Chapter 16 Chapter 16

Chapter 16 Chapter 16
Chapter 16

Nova’s POV

We didn’t sleep.

Alaric sat on the edge of the bed, knife in his hand. He wasn’t sharpening it this time. He just held it, turning it slowly, staring at the door like he expected someone to kick it in at any moment.

I sat against the far wall with my knees drawn up to my chest and my arms wrapped tightly around them. The blanket had slipped to the floor. I didn’t bother picking it up. The cold had settled deep in my bones anyway.

The voices outside never really stopped.

They started as low murmurs, muffled through the cabin walls. Then they grew louder, drifting closer until I could make out every word.

“She touched him and he breathed again.”

“She’s not normal.”

“She saved Tomas.”

“She’s Silverfang.”

“She’s a healer.”

“She’s a witch.”

“She’s dangerous.”

Each word landed like a stone against my ribs. I pressed my forehead to my knees and tried to breathe through it.

Alaric looked over at me. His voice was quiet. “They’re scared.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“Some of them are grateful too.”

“Not enough.”

He set the knife down on the small table with a soft clink and walked over. He lowered himself to the floor beside me, back against the wall, his shoulder pressing warmly against mine. For a long moment he just sat there, solid and steady.

“They’ll talk themselves out eventually,” he said. “Kael will call another meeting. He’ll tell them what they need to hear.”

I shook my head. “They saw me do it, Alaric. No lights. No tricks. Just… me. They know exactly what I am now.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled slowly. “They do.”

“What if they decide I’m too dangerous to keep around?”

He turned his head to look at me. His green eyes were tired but fierce. “Then they go through me.”

I swallowed hard. “You can’t fight the whole pack.”

“I won’t have to.” His voice was low and certain. “Most of them watched Tomas open his eyes. They saw his mother crying tears of joy instead of grief. That matters more than whispers in the dark.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But doubt still gnawed at me, cold and persistent.

The voices outside grew louder. Boots scraped against dirt. Someone was shouting now.

“Alpha Kael said she stays!”

“Then why is she Silverfang?”

“She saved a kid!”

“She could kill us all next!”

Alaric stood up quickly and moved to the window. I followed, standing beside him and peering out into the night.

A small crowd had gathered just outside the cabin. Maybe ten or twelve people — warriors, mothers, a couple of elders. They weren’t armed, and they weren’t angry enough to storm the door, but they were loud enough to make my stomach twist into knots.

One of them stepped forward. Rylan. The big, scarred warrior who had sparred with Alaric weeks ago.

He raised his voice so it carried clearly. “We all saw what she did tonight. The boy was gone. Neck snapped. Not breathing. Now he’s alive. She did that. No one else could have.”

Murmurs rippled through the group. Some nodded. Others shook their heads.

Rylan kept going, his tone steady. “I don’t trust Silverfang. Never have. But she’s not acting like one of them. She stayed when she could have run. She healed when she didn’t have to. She proved herself tonight.”

Someone yelled back. “What if she flips? What if she turns that power on us next?”

Rylan looked straight at the man. “Then we deal with it when it happens. But right now she’s one of ours. And she just proved it by saving one of our pups.”

The crowd fell quiet again. Heavy silence.

Rylan looked directly toward the cabin window — toward me. He gave one small, respectful nod.

Then he turned and walked away.

The group slowly broke apart. Some left quickly. Others lingered, talking in lower voices now.

Alaric let out a long breath and turned to me. “Rylan just bought you some time.”

I nodded, my chest still tight. “They still don’t trust me.”

“They don’t have to trust you completely,” he said. “They just have to not hate you enough to turn on you.”

He pulled me into his arms and held me close, chin resting on top of my head. I let myself lean into him, let myself believe — just for a minute — that maybe the pack wouldn’t tear itself apart over me.

Then a horn sounded from the eastern ridge.

Sharp. Urgent.

Alaric tensed against me.

Another horn answered. Closer.

He pulled back and looked out the window again. Torchlight was moving along the ridge. Too many lights. Moving fast.

“They’re not waiting for morning,” he said grimly.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

He grabbed his coat, knife, and belt in one fluid motion.

“I have to go.”

I grabbed his arm. “Take me with you.”

“No.” His voice was hard, final. “You stay here. Lock the door. Bar it. If anything goes wrong, you run west through the back trails. Don’t stop for anything.”

I shook my head fiercely. “I’m not running.”

“You are if it means staying alive,” he said, cupping my face with both hands. “That’s all that matters to me.”

He kissed me — hard, fast, desperate. Like he was terrified it might be the last time.

Then he was gone.

The door shut behind him. I heard the lock click from the outside.

I stood alone in the middle of the cabin, heart pounding.

The bond pulled sharply in my chest. Alaric was already moving fast toward the ridge. Toward the torches. Toward the fight.

I walked to the window and looked out.

The settlement was waking up in chaos. Warriors were running. Families were barricading doors. Children cried in the distance.

A low, menacing growl rolled from the east.

Silverfang.

They were here.

And they were not stopping.

I pressed my palm against the cold glass.

“Come back,” I whispered to the empty room.

Outside, the torches kept moving.

Closer.

The war had finally arrived.

And it wanted me.