Chapter 170 CHAPTER 170
Chapter 170 CHAPTER 170
The howl lingers long after sound itself has vanished.
Rowan remains standing on her balcony, fingers curled tightly around cold stone railing as dawn slowly bleeds across horizon. Mountains stand silent once more, wrapped in shadows and mist.
Yet something has changed since ivory silver wolf.. she feels more intuned with herself.
The air feels different.
The world feels different.
Deep within her chest, beneath her wolf, beneath Vespera, beneath every layer of who she’s becoming something continues to vibrate with quiet awareness.
As though part of her heard call it was never meant to hear.
As though something ancient has awakened.
Lights continue flickering throughout Blackwell compound below.
Wolves emerge from homes, speaking in hushed voices as they try to determine source of sound. Warriors move toward outer gates. Patrol leaders exchange concerned looks.
Everyone has heard it.
Not just heard it.
Felt it.
The howl carried emotion with it.
Pain.
Loneliness.
Grief.
The kind of grief that comes from losing something irreplaceable.
Rowan swallows hard.
Because she felt it more intensely than anyone.
Almost as though howl reached for her specifically.
A sharp discomfort stirs inside her.
Immediately, she shoves the thought away.
That’s ridiculous.
She barely knows Kaelen Nightshade.
One conversation in forest does not create mysterious soul connections.
And yet...
Her mind betrays her by replaying memory anyway.
The quiet way he spoke.
The sadness hidden beneath every word.
The look in his eyes when he admitted being alone had stopped feeling bearable.
Rowan closes her eyes.
She hates how vividly she remembers it.
“You should stop.”
Vespera’s voice cuts through her thoughts.
The goddess sounds troubled.
Far more troubled than during Eden Forest encounter.
Rowan opens her eyes again.
“Stop what?”
“You know what.”
Long silence stretches between them.
The kind that only exists when both parties already know answer.
Finally Rowan exhales.
“I am curious.”
“You are becoming attached and you barely know him.”
“There is difference.”
Vespera laughs softly.
The sound holds no amusement.
“Every great tragedy begins with those exact words.”
Rowan frowns.
Vespera rarely speaks so dramatically.
“You’re overreacting.”
“No.”
For first time since their bond formed, Vespera sounds genuinely afraid.
“I am remembering.”
That answer settles heavily inside Rowan.
Remembering.
Not imagining.
Not fearing.
Remembering.
The distinction matters.
Before Rowan can ask another question, movement below catches her attention.
Damian steps from main house and crosses courtyard with purposeful strides.
Several senior warriors follow behind him.
The Alpha looks calm.
But Rowan has learned enough about Damian to recognize subtle signs.
His shoulders are tighter than usual.
His expression more guarded.
Something about the howl concerns him.
Moments later, Luna emerges from house and joins him.
The pair exchange quiet words before heading toward council hall.
A meeting.
At this hour.
That cannot be good.
Curiosity gnaws at Rowan.
She shifts from balcony and quickly dresses before making her way across compound.
By time she reaches council hall, several elders have already gathered.
The atmosphere inside feels heavy.
Uneasy.
No one is laughing.
No one is relaxed.
The moment Rowan enters, conversations cease.
Every eye turns toward her.
Strange tension settles over room.
Damian notices it immediately.
“So,” he says, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Apparently everyone had the same thought.”
Rowan frowns.
“What thought?”
Elder Marcus clears his throat.
“The howl.”
A knot tightens in Rowan’s stomach.
“What about it?”
The elder exchanges glance with Damian.
Then he speaks carefully.
“That wasn’t an ordinary wolf.”
The room falls silent.
Rowan already knows that.
Every instinct she possesses recognized it.
Still, hearing it spoken aloud makes something colder settle beneath her skin.
Damian folds his arms.
“Most wolves can project emotion through howl,” he says. “Strength. Anger. Dominance. Fear.”
His gaze settles on Rowan.
“But last night’s howl carried something older.”
Vespera becomes very still within her consciousness.
Dangerously still.
“The Obsidian Wolf,” one of elders whispers.
The words seem to suck warmth from room.
Several wolves visibly stiffen.
Others look away entirely.
Not fear.
Respect.
The kind reserved for legends people hoped were myths.
Rowan remains silent.
Listening.
Watching.
Learning.
“The stories are older than packs themselves,” Marcus continues quietly. “Most dismissed them centuries ago. Silver Wolf. Obsidian Wolf. Twin powers created to maintain balance.”
“Stories,” another elder mutters.
“No.”
The interruption comes from Luna.
Her voice is calm.
Certain.
“Not stories.”
Everyone looks toward her.
Luna meets Rowan’s gaze.
For brief moment, something unreadable passes through her expression.
Recognition.
Concern.
Perhaps even sympathy.
“The world is changing,” Luna says softly. “Ancient things are waking up. Powers that slept for centuries are beginning to move again.”
The room falls silent once more.
Rowan feels Vespera stirring uneasily.
Like someone listening to conversation they desperately wish to avoid.
Damian eventually stands.
“The howl came from beyond our borders,” he says, voice carrying authority of Alpha.
“Until we know more, patrols will remain doubled.”
Several warriors nod.
The meeting concludes shortly afterward.
Yet as wolves begin filing from hall, Rowan notices something strange.
Luna remains seated.
Watching her.
Waiting.
Quiet motherly understanding passes between them.
The moment room empties, Luna rises and approaches.
“You met him.”
It isn’t a question.
Rowan freezes.
Luna smiles faintly.
Not surprised.
Not angry.
Simply resigned.
“How did you know?”
“The look on your face.”
Rowan looks away.
Embarrassment flickers through her.
Luna gently touches her shoulder.
“When I first met Damian, I thought moon had made mistake.”
Rowan blinks.
“What?”
Luna’s smile deepens.
“Some connections arrive before we’re ready for them.”
The words settle heavily between them.
Dangerously close to confirmation.
Dangerously close to hope.
Rowan’s pulse quickens.
“I don’t even know him.”
“No,” Luna agrees softly. “You don’t.”
For moment, neither speaks.
Then Luna’s expression becomes serious.
And the warmth drains from her voice.
“But if Vespera is afraid,” Luna says, “you should be too.”
A chill runs down Rowan’s spine.
Because Luna never speaks lightly.
And because deep down, Rowan already knows something terrifying.
She isn’t afraid of Kaelen Nightshade.
She’s afraid of how quickly he became impossible to forget.
Far beyond mountains, hidden within endless darkness of Shadowfang territory, pair of obsidian eyes stares toward horizon.
Toward Blackwell lands.
Toward silver wolf who has unknowingly disrupted centuries of solitude.
Kaelen stands on edge of cliff overlooking his pack’s territories.
Around him, shadows seem to move with intention.
As though darkness itself responds to his presence.
He hasn’t moved in hours.
His wolf lies restless beneath his skin, demanding to run. Demanding to return to Eden Forest. Demanding to find her.
But Kaelen holds still.
Because he understands something she might not.
That howl wasn’t casual communication.
It was declaration.
It was vulnerability.
It was him announcing to universe that he’d found something worth breaking centuries of careful distance for.
And now the universe was listening.
For second night in a row, Kaelen does not sleep.
He stands vigil on his cliff and stares toward Blackwell compound, invisible though it is across miles of terrain.
His consciousness reaches for hers ancient soul calling to ancient soul across political boundaries.
Can she feel it?
Does she sense him sensing her?
Or is she still fighting what Kaelen has already accepted:
That destiny has chosen.
That cosmic forces have aligned.
That Silver Wolf and Obsidian Wolf have found each other again.
And that nothing not pack politics, not historical rivalries, not even the gods themselves will keep them apart.