Chapter 33: A Fight Worth Winning

The pack erupted in cheers, their howls of victory shaking the very ground beneath us. But I barely heard them. All I could focus on was Dax—his bloodied form, his ragged breaths, the way his body trembled with exhaustion.

He was alive. That should have been enough.

But as I clung to him, my heart hammering in my chest, I couldn’t shake the lingering unease in my gut. Kael was still breathing. He had lost the challenge, but he hadn’t yielded. He had lost consciousness. There was a difference.

And that difference could cost us everything.

Dax's arms wrapped tightly around me, his forehead pressing against mine. “It’s over,” he whispered, but I could hear the uncertainty beneath his words.

I swallowed hard and nodded, forcing myself to believe it.

Jack stepped forward, his expression grim as he looked between his two sons—one victorious, the other barely clinging to life.

“Take Kael to the healer,” he ordered. “Restrain him. I want guards on him at all times.”

Two warriors stepped forward, lifting Kael’s limp body from the bloodstained dirt. His face was a mess of cuts and bruises, but there was no denying the resemblance to Dax. Even in defeat, he carried the same raw power, the same untamed fire.

As they carried him away, I expected Jack to look relieved. Instead, he looked… haunted.

I stepped closer to him. “You knew, didn’t you?” I whispered.

His eyes flickered to mine. “Knew what?”

“That Dax would win.”

His jaw tensed. “I would have made sure of it myself if it came to that.”

I stared at him, trying to process his words. "You would have… you would have killed your own son?" The disbelief in my voice was evident, though I knew better than to doubt Jack's ruthlessness when it came to maintaining control.

His gaze softened, but the steel in it never wavered. "There are no exceptions when it comes to the pack's survival. Kael may be my son, but he is a threat. He has the power to destroy everything we've built."

I wanted to argue, to point out that Kael had once been part of the family, that there had to be another way, but I knew better than to speak those words aloud. Jack had never been a man for second chances, especially when power was on the line.

Dax’s voice, weak but steady, cut through the silence. "I should have killed him. But something held me back.” His eyes, bright but haunted, locked onto mine. "I should have done what needed to be done."

I wanted to ask him if he truly believed that, if he could live with that choice. But the look on his face told me everything I needed to know. His mind was already consumed by what had happened. We had no time for second-guessing.

I turned back to Jack, watching as his warriors disappeared into the packhouse with Kael’s unconscious body. "What happens now?"

Jack sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face as if the weight of everything was finally catching up to him. "We wait. If Kael wakes up and tries to challenge Dax again, we’ll be ready. If he doesn’t... then we’ll move on."

I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Jack’s plan—something darker, something he wasn’t telling me. But I kept my mouth shut. Dax needed me. And I would do whatever it took to ensure our survival.

I reached for Dax’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “We’ll figure this out,” I murmured. “Together.”

His grip tightened around mine. “Yeah.”

But there was something dark in his eyes. Something I wasn’t sure how to reach.

Dax barely spoke as we returned to our wing in the packhouse. The victory, the adrenaline, the weight of what had just happened—it was all pressing down on him.

I knew better than to push.

So instead, I guided him to the bathroom, turning on the shower and helping him strip away the torn, bloodied remains of his clothes.

He let me.

He let me clean the dried blood from his skin, let me run my fingers over his bruises and cuts, let me press soft kisses against his shoulders as I worked.

But he didn’t say a word.

Not until we were in bed, wrapped up in each other, the moon casting silver light across the sheets.

Then, finally, he whispered, “He’s not going to back off.”

I swallowed hard. “I know.”

Dax turned his head, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light. “And neither am I.”

A shiver ran down my spine, not from fear—but from certainty.

Kael had come back to take everything from Dax. From me. From us. 

I cupped his face, brushing my thumb over his cheek. “Then neither am I.”

He let out a slow breath, his forehead pressing against mine. “I love you.”

The words settled deep in my chest, warm and unshakable. “I love you, too.”

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy. I pressed closer to Dax, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips, the warmth of his skin against mine. But even in this closeness, I couldn’t push the thought of Kael away. I could feel the tension coiling, ready to snap.

“I don’t trust him,” I whispered into the quiet.

Dax’s grip on me tightened, his fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me even closer. “Neither do I,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge. “But I won’t let him win.” There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt.

Dax moved, pulling away slightly to look down at me. “Tomorrow, we make our move. We’ll prepare. If Kael wakes, we’ll be ready. But we won’t let him take this from us. Not without a fight.”

I met his eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. “Together.”

Dax’s lips curved up into a faint, strained smile, the fire in his eyes burning brighter. “Together.”

And as I closed my eyes and held onto him, I knew that no matter what came next, I would stand by his side. For better or worse. Because in this world, you didn’t just fight for your life—you fought for your place in it. And ours was a fight worth winning.