Chapter 10 Pulled Into the Light
The voices grew clearer above us, threading through the cracks in the stone, urgent and rising. Each shout sent a tremor through the cave walls, loosening grit that tumbled like dry rain into our hair. My heart kicked hard against my ribs. For one wild moment, I wasn’t sure if I wanted them to find us yet—not while the air between Kier and me was still thick with everything unsaid, the ghost of what almost happened lingering between our breaths.
“Here!” Jaxon’s voice rang out, sharp and insistent. “They’re down here!”
Relief and dread crashed into me at once. Rescue meant safety, but also eyes. Questions. Assumptions.
Kier pushed himself to his feet, bracing one hand against the rock. Dirt smeared across his jaw and temple; his dark hair had come loose, curling damp against his forehead. Even battered and bloodstained, he looked unshakable in the dim glow—a figure carved out of resolve. My pulse jumped traitorously at the sight of him.
He extended his hand to me. The gesture was simple, but it felt like a choice. I took it, my fingers curling against his palm, and let him pull me upright.
Above, stone groaned as the warriors pried at the rocks. The crack widened, spilling moonlight into the cave in a harsh white shaft after hours of gloom. It made me blink, disoriented. The scent of pine and blood rode the fresh air down to us.
My father’s voice followed, commanding and calm even through the strain. “Hold steady—we’ll break it open.”
Kier leaned down, his breath warm against my ear despite the chill. “When we step out, they’re going to see what they want to see,” he murmured.
I swallowed hard. “Let them.”
It sounded like bravado, but inside, fear curled tight as a fist in my gut. The cave had been a cocoon of sorts—dark, close, private. Outside, the world waited with its judgments.
Finally, the last rock gave way. Jaxon dropped through first, boots hitting stone with a thud. Relief flashed across his face before he smothered it with a grin. “Well, well. Trapped in a cave with Kier all night? Should I be worried about a new brother-in-law?”
“Jaxon!” My voice cracked like a whip, sharp and furious.
He only laughed, offering me his hand up. But Kier moved past him without hesitation, steadying me himself, his hand firm on my elbow. The warriors above reached down, hauling us out into the open air.
The clearing beyond the ridge was chaos. Rogues lay slain in the dirt, their blood black under the moonlight, their scent sharp and feral. Wolves clustered in knots, some wounded, some whispering, all of them watching as Kier and I emerged side by side.
My mother was there in an instant, her sharp eyes raking me for injury. She brushed hair from my face, her fingers gentle even as her voice cut like steel. “You’re alive. Thank the moon goddess.”
“Yes, Mother,” I said quietly.
But it wasn’t her gaze I felt burning into me. It was the pack’s.
Warriors nudged one another. Elders murmured under their breath. The whispers curled through the clearing like smoke: Together. Survived together. Meant to be.
Alina descended the ridge, her silver shawl trailing like water over the stones. She smiled softly at me before turning her eyes to Kier. “You protected her.”
He straightened, chin high. “She protected me.”
The crowd stirred at that—admiration rippling outward, a collective exhale. I wanted to vanish into the earth.
Then Alpha Tor stepped forward, his presence a wall of authority. His eyes moved from Kier to me and back again, heavy with something unreadable. “To find your mate is a gift,” he said, voice carrying over the clearing. “But sometimes, the bond reveals itself not in ceremony, not in prophecy, but in blood and battle. Perhaps tonight, the moon goddess has spoken.”
The cheer that followed was deafening. It rolled over me like a wave, hot and suffocating, as if the decision had already been made and all I had left to do was drown in it.
Later, after the dead were burned and the wounded tended, the pack dispersed in a haze of exhaustion and rumor. Kier and I sat on the steps of the lodge, the timber cool against my legs, the night deepening around us.
The silence between us was heavier than the noise of the crowd. Finally, I broke it. “Did you hear them?” My voice was low. “Did you hear what they’re saying?”
“I hear it,” Kier admitted. His tone was steady, but his eyes were dark and heavy, like a storm brewing behind his calm. “And I don’t know what to do with it.”
I hugged my knees to my chest, staring at the trees beyond the lodge. “If the mate bond binds us, they’ll think we’re perfect. They’ll celebrate. But I’ll be the one who loses.”
He turned toward me, his shoulder brushing mine. His hand hovered before it found mine, tentative but certain. “Or maybe,” he said quietly, “you’ll be the one who changes everything.”
The words hung between us, heavier than the silence, more dangerous than any rogue. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that if the moon goddess tied me to Kier, it wouldn’t be the end of me—it might even be the beginning of something else.
But the memory of the cave still lingered—the almost-kiss, the weight of his confession, the way my silence had betrayed me.
I closed my eyes, the cheers of the pack still echoing in my ears. My fate felt closer now, tightening around me like the pull of the moon itself.
And for the first time, I didn’t know if I wanted to run from it—or straight into it.