Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Sera

Dante's wolves burst from the trees behind Marcus's group with coordinated precision. Not attacking—just revealing themselves, surrounding the surrounders. The fifty wolves Marcus had brought suddenly found themselves boxed in by at least thirty more.

The power shift was immediate and obvious.

Marcus spun, his hand going to his injured side. His face darkened when he saw how thoroughly he'd been outmaneuvered. "Clever," he called out, though I couldn't tell if he was addressing Dante or himself.

"This doesn't have to end in bloodshed," Dante's voice rang clear across the clearing. I couldn't see him from inside the vehicle, but I could feel him through the bond—controlled fury barely held in check. "Stand down, Marcus. Let us pass, and we'll settle this at the Council Hall like civilized wolves."

"Civilized." Marcus laughed, the sound brittle. "There's nothing civilized about what you did. You took my mate during your rut, claimed her as yours, and now you're carrying her off to legitimize the theft with Council approval."

"She was never yours to take," Dante said. "The bond broke because it was never real."

"Three years wasn't real? Three years of her in my bed, in my home, wearing my mark?" Marcus's voice cracked. "You don't get to rewrite history because you found her first in heat."

I flinched at the crude description. Cole's hand moved slightly, ready to cover me if things escalated.

"Your mark faded the moment the true bond formed," Dante replied. "You felt it break, Marcus. Don't pretend you didn't."

"What I felt was my uncle betraying me. What I felt was—" Marcus stopped, swaying slightly. His hand pressed harder against his side. The injury was clearly worse than he was letting on.

One of Marcus's warriors stepped forward. "Alpha, you need medical attention. We should retreat."

"We're not retreating without what we came for." But Marcus's voice lacked conviction. He looked at our vehicle again, and I saw something I'd never seen in his face before. Fear. "Sera, please. Just talk to me. Five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

"Don't do it," Cole warned.

But I was already reaching for the door handle. "He's hurt and desperate. This is our chance to end this without more violence."

"Sera, no—"

I opened the door and stepped out before Cole could stop me.

The clearing went silent. Every wolf, on both sides, turned to look at me. I felt exposed and small standing there between two groups of armed warriors, but I kept my chin up.

"I'm here," I said. "You wanted to talk. So talk."

Marcus stared at me like he couldn't quite believe I'd actually come out. Up close, he looked worse than I'd thought. His skin was pale, his eyes shadowed with pain. Whatever injury he'd sustained, it was serious.

"You look different," he said finally. "Stronger."

"I am stronger."

"The bond did that. The true mate bond." He said it like he was testing the words, trying to accept something he didn't want to believe. "I felt it break, you know. Three weeks ago. In the middle of the night, I woke up and the connection we'd had just... snapped. Like a rope pulled too tight."

Three weeks ago. The same time I'd conceived, according to Marie's original timeline. Before she'd discovered the accelerated development.

"You felt it break three weeks ago?" I asked carefully.

"Yes. I thought I was imagining things at first. Thought maybe it was stress or too much whiskey. But the next morning, your scent was different in the house. Wrong somehow. Like you didn't belong there anymore." Marcus took a step closer and I saw Dante's wolves tense. "That's when I knew you'd found him. Your true mate. Even before you'd met him physically, some part of you was already reaching for him."

I thought about the exhaustion I'd felt three weeks ago, the strange dreams I'd been having. Dreams of running through forests, of golden eyes watching me from the shadows. Dreams I'd dismissed as stress-induced nonsense.

"Maybe the bond knew before we did," I said quietly.

"Maybe." Marcus's laugh was hollow. "Do you know what that's like? Feeling your mate slip away and being powerless to stop it? I tried everything. I thought if I pushed you toward Lydia, made you angry enough, you'd fight for our bond. Instead you just... accepted it. Like you'd been waiting for an excuse to leave."

"I accepted it because I was tired, Marcus. Tired of trying to be enough for someone who never wanted me in the first place." I wrapped my arms around myself. "You took me in because I was convenient. A packless wolf who'd be grateful enough not to ask questions or expect too much. But I'm not that person anymore."

"No, you're not." He studied me with something that might have been regret. "You're an Alpha's true mate now. You're carrying a child. You have everything you wanted."

"I wanted a partner who respected me. I wanted to feel valued." I met his eyes. "I never had that with you."

The words hung in the air between us. I watched Marcus process them, saw the moment he finally accepted what he'd probably known all along—that our bond had been broken long before it officially severed.

"The baby," he said, his voice rough. "You have to know I didn't plan any of this to hurt you. I just wanted my child. An heir. Something that was mine."

My hand went to my stomach instinctively. "The baby isn't yours, Marcus."

His expression hardened. "Don't lie to me. Four weeks pregnant, conceived while you were still my mate. The math is simple."

"The math is complicated." I glanced back at the vehicle where Cole watched tensely. "The pregnancy is accelerated. It's a true mate phenomenon. Conception happened four days ago, not four weeks."

Marcus stared at me. "That's not possible."

"It is with true mates. Ask any elder, check the old records. Children of true mate bonds develop faster, are born stronger." I took a breath. "This baby is Dante's. It was always going to be Dante's. My body rejected you for three years because it knew you weren't my true match."

I watched the words hit him, saw his face drain of what little color it had left. His hand slipped from his side and I saw fresh blood seeping through his shirt.

"Marcus, you're hurt," I said, momentarily forgetting everything else. "Let one of the healers look at you."

"Don't." His voice was sharp. "Don't pretend to care now."

"I'm not pretending. Despite everything, I don't want you to die."

"Why not? It would solve all your problems." But he swayed again, and this time one of his warriors caught him before he fell.

"Alpha, please," the warrior begged. "Let us get you to a healer."

"Not until—" Marcus tried to pull away and gasped in pain. "Not until I know who did this."

"Did what?" I asked.

Marcus's eyes found mine, and I saw genuine confusion there. "You don't know. You really don't know."

"Know what?"

"Someone attacked me last night. In my own territory, in my own home. They used a silver blade, knew exactly where to strike to cause maximum damage without killing immediately." His breathing was labored now. "I thought it was Dante's wolves. A preemptive strike before today's evaluation. But you look too surprised for that to be true."

I looked toward where I could feel Dante through the bond. He emerged from the treeline, his expression dark and concerned. "We didn't touch you, Marcus. We had no reason to."

"Then who?" Marcus looked around at his assembled warriors. "Who benefits from me being weakened? From me being too injured to fight for my mate and child?"

A thought occurred to me, cold and terrible. "Lydia. Where is she?"

Marcus's face went pale. "She was supposed to be at the border parley this morning. But she never showed. Sarah went in her place."

"Sarah said Lydia brought her the documents from your office," I said. "But what if Lydia kept something else? Something more valuable?"

"Like what?" Dante asked, moving closer.

"Like whatever Marcus was using to control her. Blackmail, promises, threats—whatever kept her loyal despite how he treated her." I looked at Marcus. "What did you have on my sister?"

Marcus hesitated, then said, "Letters. She wrote them to me, detailing her feelings, her willingness to help me remove you. If those became public, she'd be branded a homewrecker and traitor. No pack would take her."

"And if she has those letters back, she has her freedom," Cole said quietly. "No more leverage."

"But why attack me?" Marcus demanded. "Why not just leave?"

"Because you're an Alpha," I said, the pieces clicking together. "Even exiled, even disgraced, you'd hunt her down. She knows how you think, knows you don't let go of things that belong to you." I paused. "But if you were dead, she'd be free."

The clearing went silent as everyone processed this.

"She tried to kill me," Marcus said slowly. "Lydia actually tried to kill me."

"She probably thought she was defending herself," Dante said. "You did hit her hard enough to bruise. Maybe she decided she was done being your victim."

Marcus looked stricken. Whatever he'd expected—anger, betrayal from me, interference from Dante—he hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected the woman he'd manipulated to turn the tables so completely.

"I need to sit down," he said suddenly, and his warriors rushed to help him to the ground.

I watched them work, keeping pressure on his wound, calling for their healer. Dante moved to my side, his hand finding mine.

"This doesn't change anything," he said quietly. "We still need to get to the Council Hall."

"I know." But I couldn't look away from Marcus, bleeding and broken in the dirt. "He looks so small like this."

"He is small. He always was. He just hid it well."

Marcus's healer arrived, working quickly to assess the damage. After a moment, she looked up at Marcus with worry. "The silver is spreading. I can slow it, but you need a specialist. Someone with experience in silver poisoning."

"How long does he have?" one of the warriors asked.

"Hours, maybe. A day if he's lucky." The healer looked at Dante. "Alpha Blackwood, your pack has the best healers in the region. Will you help him?"

Every eye turned to Dante. The man who Marcus had tried to manipulate, whose mate Marcus had tried to steal, whose child Marcus had claimed as his own. The man who had every reason to let Marcus die in the dirt.

Dante was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "Get him in one of our vehicles. We'll take him to Council Hall with us. The Council healers can stabilize him there."

"Why would you help me?" Marcus asked weakly.

"Because killing you would make me like you. And I'm better than that." Dante turned to his warriors. "Load him carefully. And someone send word ahead to Council Hall. Tell them we're bringing a medical emergency along with our testimony."

As they moved Marcus to a vehicle, I squeezed Dante's hand. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being exactly who I needed you to be."

He kissed my forehead gently. "Come on. We have an evaluation to get to. And this time, we're taking the main road. No more surprises."

We loaded back into our vehicles, but this time Marcus was with us, bleeding and broken in the back of a medical transport. His warriors followed, subdued and confused. The ambush had turned into a rescue mission.

And somewhere out there, my sister was running with stolen letters and blood on her hands.