Chapter 68
Elara's POV
Cole's face stared back at me. Older. Harder. A scar cut through his left eyebrow that hadn't been there before.
But definitely Cole.
My knife hit the concrete floor. The metallic clang echoed in the sudden silence.
"Answer me." His voice cracked. "How do you know her combat style? Those moves—I've only ever seen one person fight like that. And she's dead."
My throat closed. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
A lifetime of memories crashed over me. Cole standing at my back in the frozen wasteland. Cole pulling a silver bullet from my shoulder in a Vancouver warehouse. Cole feeding the last piece of dried meat to a starving wolf cub while we starved in a Siberian blizzard.
Cole. My second. My partner. The only person in the Northern Territories I'd trusted with my life.
And he thought I was dead.
I looked at Vivian. She was pressed against the wall, shaking. Her eyes darted between me and Cole. Terror written across her face.
She'd just watched two strangers slaughter five trained mercenaries like it was nothing.
I took a breath. My lungs worked perfectly. No wheeze. No tightness.
The treatment had worked.
I could do this.
I met Cole's amber eyes. "The northern wind never stops blowing."
He froze.
That phrase. The words he'd spoken when he first swore loyalty to me. Seven years ago. In the ruins of the old Alpha's stronghold.
Nobody else knew those words.
"No." Cole's voice dropped to a whisper. "That's... you can't..."
"March 15th, 2019," I said. My voice was steady. Calm. "Vancouver port. I took a silver bullet in my left shoulder. You dug it out with a hunting knife. No anesthetic. You told me I owed you a life."
His face went white.
"November 2020. Siberian outpost. We got trapped for three days in a blizzard. We had one piece of compressed ration left. You fed it to that wolf cub we found dying in the snow."
"Stop." His hands were shaking.
"You said the cub reminded you of me. Small. Angry. Refusing to die."
Cole staggered backward. His shoulder hit the wall.
"You..." He couldn't finish the sentence.
"I'm Lynette," I said. "Or I was. Now I'm Elara Grey. It's complicated."
The silence stretched. I could hear Vivian's rapid breathing. The distant drip of water from a broken pipe. My own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Then Cole dropped to one knee.
His head bowed. His right fist pressed to his chest in the old Northern Territories salute.
"Alpha." His voice broke. "I... that night... I should have been there. If I'd been there, maybe—"
"Cole." I kept my voice firm. "Get up."
He didn't move.
"I said get up."
He rose slowly. His eyes were wet.
I'd never seen Cole cry. Not once in twenty years.
"What happened that night?" I asked.
He wiped his face roughly. "Fenrir sent three of his men to watch me. Make sure I didn't interfere. I..." He stopped. Swallowed hard. "I killed them. All three. But by the time I got to the parking lot, you were already..."
"Dead," I finished.
"Yes."
"And then?"
"I've been hunting them." His voice turned cold. Hard. "The Wild Hunt. Every single one who was there that night. Fenrir got away. But I've killed seventeen of his men in the last three months."
Seventeen. This explained why Fenrir wasn't here, in this town, after my family.
"I heard about the Goldman family," he continued. "About the contract. I knew it was connected. So I followed the team here. I was going to extract your cousin before you walked into their trap."
I nodded slowly. "You've been watching."
"From the north side of the building. I saw a girl arrive. I was about to move when you..." He gestured at the bodies on the floor. "You handled it."
"Not well enough." I touched my shoulder. Blood soaked through my sleeve. The wound was already closing. But it still hurt like hell.
Cole's eyes tracked the movement. "You're healing."
"The Council treated me. Fixed the asthma. Activated some of the wolf genes."
"But you still can't shift."
"No."
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "You're still the strongest person I know."
Something in my chest tightened.
A small sound made us both turn.
Vivian had slid down the wall. She was sitting on the concrete now. Her knees pulled to her chest. Her whole body shaking.
She was staring at the bodies. At the blood pooling on the floor. At the broken window where the scarred man had escaped.
Her breathing was getting faster. Shorter.
Shock. She was going into shock.
I moved toward her. Crouched down. "Vivian. Look at me."
She didn't respond. Her eyes were glassy. Unfocused.
"Vivian." I touched her shoulder gently.
She flinched. Hard. Then her eyes snapped to mine.
"What... what are you?" Her voice was barely audible. "What is he? What just happened?"
I didn't have a good answer.
Cole stepped closer. Vivian's gaze shifted to him. Something flickered in her expression.
Attraction. But also something else.
Recognition maybe. The kind that comes when you see someone who just saved your life.
"You're safe now," Cole said. His voice was gentler than I'd heard it in years. "We're getting you out of here."
Vivian's eyes filled with tears. "They were going to... they said they were going to..."
"I know." I kept my hand on her shoulder. "But they didn't. You're okay."
"That man. The one with the scars. He knew you." She looked at me. "He said your name. He said this was about you."
My stomach dropped.
She'd heard that. Of course she had.
"We'll explain later," I said. "Right now we need to move. Can you stand?"
Vivian nodded shakily. Cole reached out. Offered his hand.
She stared at it for a long moment. Then took it.
He pulled her to her feet. She swayed. He steadied her.
"Thank you," she whispered. Her voice cracked. "You... both of you... thank you."
Cole looked uncomfortable. He let go of her hand quickly. Stepped back.
Vivian wrapped her arms around herself. She was still shaking. Still pale.
But she was looking at Cole now. Really looking at him.
Her eyes traced the scar through his eyebrow. The hard line of his jaw. The blood spattered across his tactical gear.
I recognized that look. I'd seen it before in the Northern Territories. After battles. After near-death experiences.
When your brain is overloaded with terror and adrenaline, it latches onto the person who made you feel safe. The person who stood between you and death.
It wasn't rational. It wasn't romantic.
It was pure survival instinct looking for an anchor.
Vivian took a shaky breath. "I don't... I don't understand what just happened. But you..." She looked at Cole. "You saved my life."
"Just doing my job," Cole muttered.
"Your job?"
"Protecting her." He nodded at me.
Vivian's brow furrowed. She looked between us. Trying to piece it together.
Then she turned back to Cole. Her expression was different now. Confused. Vulnerable. Like a child looking at a parent after a nightmare.
"Will you..." She stopped. Swallowed. "Will you make sure they don't come back?"
Cole's face softened slightly. "They won't. I promise."
She nodded. Slowly. Then wrapped her arms tighter around herself.
I watched her carefully. The way she kept glancing at Cole. The way her breathing steadied when he spoke.
Trauma bonding. That's what this was.
I'd seen it dozens of times. Soldiers who couldn't function without their squad leader nearby. Survivors who followed their rescuer like a lost puppy.
It usually faded after a few days. Once the shock wore off.
But sometimes it didn't.
And the way Vivian was looking at Cole...
I thought about Liam. About how panicked she'd been when he got stabbed.
That had been different. That had been genuine care for someone she knew.
This... this was something else.
This was her brain desperately trying to process trauma by fixating on the person who represented safety.
I just hoped she'd snap out of it before she did something stupid.