Chapter 89

VANCE

"I just got you back, brother, why are you so eager to kill yourself?" Lukas called out, running beside me as we followed Paul deeper into the order.

"Why is Jonah here?" I asked him instead. I could see the tired look in his eyes. I doubted any of us had much sleep. He had a crossbow in his hand, I noticed. Like the rest of them. He came prepared. Just a minute ago, Eria was so close to me. And now it was like we were at opposite sides of the world again. I could almost hear her, desperately calling my name.

"It's a long story," Lukas replied, his voice anchoring my thoughts, keeping them from wandering. "But he was working for the order. Like Paul."

Paul tensed but kept running. I suddenly felt an urge to defend him. "Paul helped me escape," I told Lukas.

"After helping you and Orion get captured in the first place. I suppose the two events cancel out." Lukas's tone was curt, his expression hard to read.

"He's helping us now when he doesn't have any reason to. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" I asked, glaring at Lukas. It wasn't fair to make Paul the enemy, even if he wronged us.

"Quit it, you two," Paul stopped, turning to face us. His tone was clipped, hurt just under the surface. He stood in front of a closed door. I swallowed hard; this was the only door in the order that I recognized. Of course, Viper would be here.

"I've done things that I am ashamed of," Paul said, his eyes resting on Lukas, "but right now, we have to work together if we're going to walk out of here in one piece. I thought we already agreed on that?"

Lukas bit his lip, turning away. The door slid open, and inside, about five men dressed in black and armed to the teeth stood in a circle around Viper, their heads bowed while she yelled. Something about Orion escaping right under their noses. But what caught my attention was the boy bound to the leather chair in the middle of the room. A boy I knew. Viper swung a wicked-looking knife in her hand, and I nearly forgot to breathe when she brought it closer to Jonah.

Lukas cursed under his breath.

"You two, let me handle this, okay?" Paul whispered, his voice low. He didn't look at us as he spoke. "I'll lure some of the men outside. You take care of them as quietly as you can..."

"That's not much of a plan," I was saying, but Lukas already pulled me into the shadows and was nodding at Paul.

I had a bad feeling about it as Paul walked in.

"Viper, a word," Paul said, his voice echoing slightly in the room. "I have information about Orion's escape."

My ears perked up as we watched from the shadows. My fingers tightened around my dagger.

Viper turned, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Speak," she snapped.

"It's sensitive," Paul replied, gesturing towards the door. "I'd rather not discuss it in front of the others."

The rest of the men muttered amongst themselves, then Viper laughed, taking a step closer. "Oh, Paul. You think I don't see you conspiring with that wretched pack, helping the escape? Seize him!"

The next thing I heard was the unmistakable sound of weapons being drawn.

"Fuck!" Lukas cursed, pulling out his crossbow and running into the room. I followed, joining the fight as I threw myself at the nearest guard, disarming him with a quick maneuver. Lukas moved with a speed I envied, knocking down another guard. Paul was locked in close combat with the remaining two men, as they tried to bind him.

"Lukas, free Jonah!" I yelled. The man under me began to shift, claws appearing. I couldn't hold him down for long, I knew.

Out of the corner of my eye, Lukas dodged a blow and darted for Jonah, cutting through the ropes in one smooth motion. Jonah, still groggy, scrambled to his feet.

"Fools," Viper yelled, drawing out her blade. With a guttural cry, she lunged at Jonah, her knife aimed at his heart.

The guard, now completely werewolf, pushed me off, the force throwing me against the wall. I slammed against the concrete, yelling Jonah's name.

Out of nowhere, Paul threw himself in front of Jonah. I watched as the knife sank deep into his chest.

The air was knocked out of my lungs. Paul's eyes locked with mine. Run, he mouthed. Viper drew out her knife from him, and he slumped to the ground, blood everywhere.

I was screaming. Hot rage exploded inside me. Someone was holding me back—Lukas, I thought—fully werewolf, dragged me out of the room. I lost consciousness, thinking I must be dead... There was no way we could have survived that.

I jerked awake, muscles screaming, head pounding like a war drum. The sterile white of the infirmary hit me hard. I struggled to sit up, my breathing ragged. It hurt, like my lungs were torn apart.

“Easy, Vance,” Lukas’s voice broke through the chaos. He hovered in the doorway, his eyes sharp but relieved. “You’re safe. You’re in the stronghold.”

I swallowed hard; the fight was still fresh in my mind—the knife sinking into Paul, the guards shifting into their wolf forms, Paul mouthing run, barely able to make out the words. Blood everywhere, then darkness. “Paul?” My voice was rough, barely a whisper. I dreaded the answer.

Lukas stepped forward, his eyes darkening. “He’s dead. Took the knife for Jonah.” His words hit me like a blow.

“No… Paul…” I struggled up to my feet, the loss hitting me like a stab.

Kael appeared behind Lukas, his face grim. “It’s hard to know what to think of him,” he said quietly, “but he died making up for his mistakes.”

"No," I shook my head. He can't be dead.

Even if he wasn't, he would be by now. We couldn't recover his body from the order.

Anger and grief burned through me, rage clawing its way up. The order... They did this. Viper killed Paul. I clenched my fist. He sacrificed himself when he had no reason to.

“Where’s Jonah?” I demanded.

“In the next room—he’s waking up,” Kael said.

I looked up, meeting his eyes. "Eria?"

"In the archive. You need to rest…" The alpha started saying, but I brushed past him, already making my way out.

I pushed open the door of the archive. It was made of stained glass, each reflecting different colors. Eria stood beside one of the shelves. She turned the moment the door opened, and then ran towards me, hugging me tightly.

She was crying now too. I saw. The last time I saw her, I was plunging back into battle. And even the time after that when we went back to the pack house... Although that had been her idea.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed. "If I wasn't so reckless, none of this would have happened."

"Hey," I held her hands, placing them on my cheeks. "I'm fine, aren't I?"

"But if anything happened to you... I wouldn't be able to forgive myself," she whispered, her eyes huge and scared. She looked small against me, eyes that had obviously been crying looking into my soul.

Her hands tightened against my cheeks. "Jared made Maya and I go through the portal first. I was so scared. Then when Lukas walked through, carrying you, I thought.... I didn't want to lose you too," she whispered, her voice small and vulnerable.

Something snapped in me. I drew her closer, covering the distance between us. My lips slammed against hers, in an almost desperate kiss, everything I felt—the cold nights in the cell without food, all the days I didn't get to see her but thinking of her to keep me alive.

Her lips were soft against mine, a break from all the violence we had to endure. And slowly, the rest of the world fell away. The Order, Paul's death, whatever came next—all of it dissolved into nothing as I held her. Eria's hands moved from my cheeks to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer, deepening the kiss.

I could taste the salt of her tears, feel the trembling of her body against mine. It was desperate, alright, like we were trying to cling to each other, enjoying every moment we could get before that, too, was fine.

When we finally broke apart, I pressed my forehead against hers. I could hear her breathing, as ragged as mine. The archive was otherwise silent. For a moment, none of us said anything. The stained glass cast colorful shadows across her face, painting her in blues and reds and golds.

"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "When they took you away, it felt like they'd ripped out a part of me."

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "You can't get rid of me that easily," I said, trying for humor, but my voice was too raw, too emotional. "I'll always find my way back to you."

She smiled then, a sad smile. "War is coming, Vance. How can you say that?"

"Because you're my mate," I said without hesitation. I felt it, long before now.

"And we'll always belong to each other. Can you promise me that?"

Her eyes dimmed, with unmistakable sorrow. I expected a happier reaction when I declared that she was my mate, the only one for me. But then she stood on her toes, kissing me again, and all my doubts vanished.

"I promise," she whispered.