74

74
Jaden’s POV
The silence in the chamber was louder than any roar I’d ever made.
The smell of smoke and scorched wood clung to my skin, the remnants of fire still curling in the cracks of the table. My hands shook at my sides, the claws retreating painfully, flesh knitting where flame had burst through.
Every Elder’s gaze cut into me like blades.
Veyra’s expression was unreadable—half fear, half something that might have once been faith. Coran, though, had that look again. The one that made my wolf bristle—the gleam of satisfaction, as if he’d just proven what he wanted the whole pack to believe.
That I wasn’t fit to lead. That I was cursed, dangerous, unstable.
And maybe I was.
“Enough,” I said, my voice rough, burned raw from holding back the wolf’s growl. “This council is dismissed.”
No one moved.
“Leave,” I repeated, slower, the words layered with dominance.
The room obeyed. Chairs scraped against stone, robes brushed the floor, and one by one they filed out. Only Coran lingered for a moment, his gaze flicking from my scorched hands to Thalia, who still stood near me.
His lips curved faintly. “It’s always the woman that brings the beast to heel—or to ruin.”
Thalia’s sharp inhale reached me, but before she could speak, I turned to him.
“Say that again,” I said quietly.
He didn’t. He simply bowed, mockingly, and walked out.
The doors closed behind him, and the moment they did, the strength drained out of me like water slipping through cracked stone. I leaned on the edge of the table, breathing hard.
The room still smelled of ash and fear.
Thalia’s hand came to my arm—hesitant, warm, grounding. The bond pulsed between us, soft again now, a rhythm that tethered me back to myself.
“You shouldn’t have come in here,” I managed, my throat tight. “It wasn’t safe.”
“If I hadn’t,” she said quietly, “you would have burned the whole chamber down.”
That earned the smallest twitch of a smile from me. “You’re too fearless for your own good.”
She didn’t answer, just stood there, watching me, eyes soft with something I didn’t deserve.
“I could have hurt you,” I said finally, because the thought had been gnawing at me from the moment she touched me. “I wanted to. For a heartbeat—” I stopped, clenching my jaw. “The curse doesn’t see faces. It only sees fire.”
Her fingers tightened on my arm. “But you do. You pulled it back.”
“Barely.”
Silence. Only the faint crackle of the dying embers remained.
I straightened slowly, stepping away before her warmth could undo me further. “Coran will use this,” I said. “He’ll twist it. Tell the others that the curse is spreading, that I’m losing control. He’s been waiting for a moment like this.”
Thalia frowned. “Can’t the others see that you fought it back?”
“They saw what they wanted to see—a monster leashed by pity.”
Her expression softened. “I didn’t pity you, Jaden.”
“I know.” I met her gaze, and for a second, the fire inside me steadied. “That’s what scares me.”
Because pity would have been easy to reject. But what she felt wasn’t pity—it was faith. And faith, in me, was dangerous.
I walked toward the shattered window at the back of the chamber, where smoke drifted out into the night. The moon hung low, pale and indifferent.
“I felt you,” I said. “When the fire rose. You were… pulling at me through the bond.”
Thalia nodded slowly. “It hurt. Like the air was burning inside my chest.”
I turned back to her, guilt darkening my voice. “You shouldn’t feel my curse. I thought I’d sealed that part of the bond.”
“You did,” she said, stepping closer. “But you can’t seal something that lives inside you. I feel it because it’s part of you.”
Her words hit harder than they should have. Because that was the truth I’d spent years trying to deny—the curse wasn’t separate from me anymore. It was me.
I took her hands in mine, rough against soft. “You shouldn’t have to bear that weight.”
Her smile was faint but defiant. “Maybe I want to.”
The room seemed smaller suddenly, the air thicker. The world had gone quiet outside the chamber, only the beat of our hearts thrumming between us. I didn’t know what this was turning into—salvation or destruction—but it didn’t feel like either of us could stop.
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this curse chained,” I admitted. “Every time I use my strength, it pushes harder. Every time I hold it back, it takes more of me.”
“And what happens if you stop fighting it?” she asked softly.
I looked at her, really looked, and the bond between us pulsed once—strong, steady, alive.
“Then it wins,” I said. “And the man you know dies.”
Her breath caught. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
She shook her head. “No. Because if that happens, I’ll find a way to bring you back.”
There was no arrogance in her tone, no empty promise. Just conviction. It both broke and healed something in me all at once.
I stepped closer, close enough that I could feel her breath, the heat of her skin against mine. The fire inside me, the curse that always demanded to burn, quieted to a low, trembling ember.
“You keep doing that,” I murmured. “Taming things you don’t understand.”
She smiled faintly. “Maybe I understand more than you think.”
If she did, then she knew how dangerous this was. How close I was to losing control—not to the curse this time, but to her.
“I should take you back to your quarters,” I said, forcing myself to pull back. “Before anyone sees you here.”
She didn’t move. “You think they don’t already know? Half the pack probably felt your fire through the walls.”
“Then they’ll also know you calmed it.”
Her eyes softened again, and the smallest flush touched her cheeks. “Good. Maybe they’ll finally see you’re not the monster they think.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that wasn’t how fear worked. That once you showed people the flames, they never forgot the heat.
Instead, I said quietly, “You should rest. Tomorrow will bring consequences.”
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Will you be alright?”
I looked past her to the blackened table, the deep claw marks that still smoked faintly. “Ask me in the morning.”
She touched my arm one last time before she left, and when the door closed behind her, I let my knees give out.
The fire flickered through my veins again, restless, unsatisfied. But there was something else there now—something steadierXn, brighter.
Her.
And that terrified me more than any curse.