Chapter 17

*Aria*

I don’t know what I expected when I brought Talon back to the glade.

Certainly not this.

The trees shift as I approach, bending ever so slightly as if granting me passage. Talon follows quietly behind me, his presence alert but nonthreatening. My wolf is calm, which unsettles me more than I’d like to admit.

And then I hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement. Voices. Boots on soft earth.

My heart stutters.

The glade isn’t empty.

As we break through the last line of trees, I stop dead in my tracks.

Tents. At least a dozen. A low fire crackling near the center. Wolves gathered in loose formation, sharpening blades, unpacking satchels, tending to gear. They move with practiced efficiency. Like soldiers. Or survivors.

Rogues.

My first instinct is to raise my claws. But my wolf doesn’t growl. She steps forward.

Sera stands at the center of it all, arms crossed, calm as the moon. She looks at me, and then her eyes slide to Talon.

"Who is with you?"

Her tone is sharp and questioning. Immediately, several wolves around the fire stop what they’re doing. Their eyes narrow. Some rise to their feet. A few shift slightly, their wolves brushing close to the surface.

Why are they here and why are they acting like this?

Like they are being protective.

Of me.

The realization hits like a soft blow to the chest.

"He was a scout," I say. "From Kael. But he defected. He wants to serve me."

Talon steps forward but keeps his hands where they can see them. His voice is steady. "I mean no harm. I swear by the moon and forest both. I saw what she was, and I couldn’t go back."

The pack doesn’t relax.

Sera eyes him closely. "You were sent to hunt her. Why the change of heart?"

"Because I saw the forest change the moment she entered it. Because I watched her hunt with respect, not cruelty. Because she carries something sacred. And because the King is falling apart."

A low growl comes from one of the older rogues near the fire. He takes a step toward Talon, but a sharp glance from Sera halts him.

She studies Talon for another long breath, then murmurs a chant under her breath, her eyes glowing faintly with witchlight. When the glow fades, she gives a single, sharp nod.

"He speaks the truth. Conflicted, but not corrupted. His loyalty is torn. But he’s made a choice."

I nod slowly. "He comes with us. I want your help deciding what role he plays."

Sera gestures to the fire. "Then sit. You need to know who has come."

A man steps forward, separating from the gathered group. Broad-shouldered, lean muscle wrapped in worn leathers and a long coat the colour of wet bark. His hair is raven-dark and braided back, and a jagged scar cuts down the side of his neck like a lightning strike. His eyes—amber and unwavering—meet mine without hesitation.

He bows his head slightly. "Alpha Ronan of the Hollowfang pack."

Behind him, another man steps forward. Shorter, wiry, with pale hair and a sharp smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"This is my second, Corren," Ronan says.

I study them both carefully. Ronan carries a weight that doesn’t come from age but experience. He’s maybe a few years older than me, but there’s steel in his stance. When he speaks again, his voice is low.

"I was a teenager when your family fell. My father served under your uncle. He died trying to protect what remained of the Nightshade name. I don’t remember Lyriana well—only that she was brave and kind. But I remember what was taken from us."

My chest tightens. I can feel the truth and pain in his words.

Corren speaks next. "There are others scattered across the land who never accepted the Thorne line. We were waiting. Hoping. When we felt the shift in the forest… we knew."

Sera places a hand gently on my shoulder. "They came because they believe. In your blood. In what you represent."

I glance around at the camp. Men, women, and even a few older children. Not all warriors, but all hardened by life outside the pack system. Survivors.

"What do you want from me?"

Ronan doesn’t hesitate. "We want a chance to rebuild. Not to conquer. Not to destroy. But to serve a leader worth following. Someone who remembers the old ways. The balance."

Sera adds, "They won’t pressure you to take a crown. But they will follow you if you rise."

I look to Talon, still standing quietly at the edge of the circle. I look at the fire. And I remember everything I’ve lost.

And everything I could become.

"Then I’ll train. I’ll earn it. I won’t inherit loyalty. I’ll deserve it."

Corren snorts. "Good. You'll need that spine. This won't be easy."

Ronan smiles faintly. "The fact you said that makes you already more worthy than half the alphas I’ve known."

Sera rises. "Then let it begin again. Tomorrow, your training continue."

Night falls.

The fire is fed. Songs in old tongues drift across the glade. Wolves in human skin dance, laugh, and drink. I sit near the edge of the stones, listening. Watching.

A woman with golden braids and antler-shaped necklace offers me a carved cup of mead. A child runs past barefoot, his laughter echoing like a memory I never had. Two men, half-shifted, wrestle in the dirt to the cheers of their packmates.

And I finally understand what this feeling is.

These aren’t just rogues.

These are my people.

Talon approaches.

"I never knew packs could be like this," he murmurs.

"Me neither."

He kneels beside me, close but not too close.

"You’ll make them proud. Those who were lost... taken. You'll make them proud."

I don’t answer. I don’t have to.

Because tonight, I feel it.

Not just the bond.

Not just the pain.

I feel the beginning of something greater.

Not vengeance.

Not war.

A home.

And maybe, finally, the start of becoming who I was always meant to be.