Chapter 17
The fire in Garrick’s watchtower burned low, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. The night outside was still, too still—as if the valley itself was bracing for what was coming.
Elara sat at the worn wooden table, fingers tracing the folded edges of the note she had found back at the stronghold. He is coming.
Garrick had given her answers, but they only led to more questions.
The Order. The forced creation of the mate bond. Her mother’s war to undo it.
It was too much. And yet, not enough.
Leon stood near the door, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked on Garrick. His body was taut with tension, every muscle coiled as if expecting a fight. He had barely spoken since Garrick’s revelation, but his silence said enough.
He didn’t trust this.
Neither did she.
Finally, she exhaled, pushing the note aside. “If my mother was trying to break the mate bond, how far did she get?”
Garrick studied her for a long moment before speaking. “Farther than they wanted her to.”
Elara’s pulse spiked. “Then she knew how to do it.”
Garrick leaned back, his expression unreadable. “She had a theory. A way to unravel what had been done. But before she could finish what she started, she was betrayed.”
Elara’s stomach turned. “By who?”
Garrick’s amber eyes flickered to Leon.
The room shifted.
Leon’s body tensed. His voice was quiet, cold. “Say it.”
Garrick exhaled. “Kael Storm.”
Leon went still.
Elara felt the air leave her lungs.
No.
No, it didn’t make sense. Kael Storm—Leon’s father—had been one of the most feared Alphas in the valley, a warrior known for his ruthlessness. But he had never been tied to the Order. Never involved in her mother’s cause.
Had he?
Leon’s jaw clenched. “You’re lying.”
Garrick’s gaze remained steady. “You already know I’m not.”
Elara’s pulse pounded. Kael Storm had betrayed her mother.
Which meant—
Leon’s entire body was rigid, his hands clenched into fists.
Elara swallowed hard. “Leon—”
But he turned sharply, shoving away from the wall and striding toward the door.
“Elara, we’re leaving.”
His voice was clipped, cold.
Elara hesitated.
She looked at Garrick one last time, searching his face for deception. For anything that would tell her this wasn’t true.
But there was nothing.
Just truth.
She exhaled. “Fine.”
Then she followed Leon out into the night.
\---
**The Ride Back – A Fractured Silence**
The forest was a blur of dark shapes and cold wind as they rode through the night. Their horses moved swiftly, hooves kicking up damp earth, the moonlight carving silver streaks across the landscape.
Elara wanted to say something.
She wanted to break the silence stretching between them like a canyon.
But Leon didn’t speak.
His posture was stiff, his hands gripping the reins too tightly. She could feel the storm inside him, the barely restrained rage.
His father had betrayed her mother.
Which meant everything they thought they knew had been a lie.
Elara’s chest ached.
She knew what betrayal felt like.
But this—this was different. This was personal.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Leon.”
He didn’t look at her.
“We don’t know the whole story yet.”
His jaw tightened. “We know enough.”
Elara swallowed. “He’s still your father.”
Leon exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching. “He’s been dead for years.” His voice was rough, bitter. “And yet, he’s still ruining things.”
Elara hesitated. Then, softly, “That’s not your fault.”
Leon let out a low, humorless laugh. “Isn’t it?”
She frowned. “Leon—”
Then, suddenly—
He stopped.
His horse skidded to a halt, kicking up dust. Elara pulled on her reins, turning back to him.
He was breathing hard, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “What if it is?”
Elara’s throat tightened.
She dismounted.
Slowly, carefully, she stepped toward him. The night air was thick, the scent of pine and damp earth wrapping around them.
“You are not your father,” she said firmly.
Leon let out a breath. His head tilted back slightly, his ice-blue eyes searching the sky, as if it held answers he would never get.
Elara hesitated. Then, before she could talk herself out of it—
She reached for his hand.
Leon stilled.
Her fingers barely brushed his, but the touch was warm. Real.
Leon’s breath hitched.
She should have pulled away.
She didn’t.
And neither did he.
Instead, slowly, his fingers curled around hers, rough and steady.
A heartbeat passed. Then another.
Leon exhaled, his grip tightening—just slightly.
And Elara realized—
She had already made her choice.
\---
**The Blackthorn Stronghold – A Trap Set in Silence**
By the time they reached the Blackthorn stronghold, dawn was creeping over the valley, turning the sky into streaks of fire and gold.
The gates were open.
That was the first sign something was wrong.
Elara pulled her horse to a stop, scanning the courtyard. Warriors were gathered, their expressions tense, their voices hushed.
Then she saw him.
Draven.
He stood at the entrance of the war hall, arms crossed, dark eyes waiting.
Leon tensed beside her. “Shit.”
Elara swallowed hard. She forced herself to dismount, her movements careful, measured.
Draven watched them, his expression unreadable.
Then, softly, “You’ve been busy.”
Elara met his gaze. “So have you.”
Draven’s lips curved slightly. “Yes.” His eyes flickered to Leon. “You should have chosen better company.”
Leon’s shoulders tensed. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing to her.”
Draven chuckled. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
Then, before Elara could react—
Draven lifted his hand.
And warriors surrounded them.
Elara’s breath caught.
She turned sharply, scanning the faces around them—Blackthorn wolves. Her own pack.
They had been waiting for her.
Her chest tightened. Soren.
Had he told Draven?
Her stomach twisted.
Leon moved beside her, his stance shifting slightly, ready to fight.
Draven sighed. “Let’s not make this messy, hmm?”
Elara clenched her fists.
Then, quietly, she said, “You were never going to let me choose, were you?”
Draven’s smile widened, dangerous.
“Oh, my dear,” he murmured.
Then, softly—
“You were never meant to have a choice.”
And the warriors moved.