Chapter 24 Chapter 24

Chapter 24 Chapter 24
Chapter 24
I sat on a fallen log near the temporary camp, my wet clothes clinging to my skin as the first hints of dawn light filtered through the trees. My body ached from the river crossing and the fighting, but my mind felt sharper than it had in weeks. The mental wall around Caden’s essence held firm, his whispers reduced to nothing more than faint background noise. Morgana’s training had given me that much, at least. I acknowledged the guilt that tried to rise whenever I thought of what I had done to him, then pushed it aside exactly as she taught me. It worked.
Alaric paced a few feet away, his broad shoulders tense, water still dripping from his dark hair. He had barely let go of my hand since we crawled out of the rapids. Every few moments he glanced at me, as if reassuring himself I was really there. The mate bond hummed steadily between us, warm and golden, a lifeline in the middle of all this chaos.
Corin approached, his grey fur matted with blood and river mud. He shifted back to human form and accepted a cloak from one of the warriors. “Marcus is holding the main border camp two miles north. He wants us there before the parley. Graham’s offer is likely a trap, but refusing might make us look weak to the rest of the pack.”
Alaric stopped pacing and pulled me to my feet, wrapping a dry cloak around my shoulders. His touch lingered on my arms. “What do you think, Nova? This concerns you most of all.”
I looked up at him, grateful he asked instead of deciding for me. “Graham will never stop coming for Caden’s essence. Or for me. If there is even a small chance a parley buys us time to regroup and heal the wounded, we should take it. But I will not be handed over. I have trained. I can fight now.”
Pride flashed in Alaric’s pale green eyes. He brushed a strand of wet hair from my face, his thumb tracing my scar with the same tenderness he always showed. “You fought like a warrior tonight. I saw the shields, the healing. Whatever that woman taught you in the sanctum… it worked. But you are not facing Graham alone.”
The other warriors watched us closely. Some nodded with cautious respect after seeing me in battle. Others still carried that familiar wariness in their eyes—the same looks I had grown up with in Silverfang. Word of my power had clearly spread. Soul-eater. Goddess-touched. Dangerous. I straightened my spine and met their gazes. I was done shrinking from those stares.
We moved out quickly, traveling light through the forest. Alaric stayed at my side the entire way, his arm brushing mine. In the quieter moments between scouts’ reports, he spoke softly. “When you vanished with Morgana, the bond went dark. I thought the worst. I tore apart every inch of neutral territory. Fought three separate Silverfang patrols on my own. Marcus almost ordered me back, but I refused.”
“I felt you,” I whispered. “Every time the sanctum trembled, I knew you were close. I wanted to come back sooner, but she convinced me I needed more control first. That I would only hurt people if I returned too soon.”
He squeezed my hand. “And now?”
“Now I can help. I kept the wall around Caden’s essence the whole fight. My healing did not backfire. The shields held.” A small smile tugged at my lips despite everything. “I am not the same girl you carried out of the woods anymore.”
Alaric stopped suddenly and pulled me into a deep kiss, right there on the trail while the others gave us a little space. His lips were urgent, tasting of river water and relief. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. “You were always enough. But seeing you fight beside me tonight… it makes the bond feel even stronger. Like the Moon herself approves.”
The warmth of his words chased away some of the lingering cold from the river. But reality pressed in quickly. We reached the main Nightcrest border camp as the sky turned pink with sunrise. Tents were scattered among the trees, many of them stained with blood. Warriors moved with grim purpose—sharpening weapons, tending wounds, reinforcing barricades made of fallen logs and thorny vines.
Marcus met us at the center of camp. The Alpha looked exhausted, his face lined with new stress, but his posture remained commanding. “Alaric. Nova.” He gave me a long, measuring look. “I see you found her. And she is… different.”
“She trained,” Alaric said simply, keeping his arm around my waist. “Her power is more stable. She helped us break through the Silverfang line at the river.”
Marcus grunted. “Good. We need every advantage. Graham’s messenger just arrived. The parley is set for the clearing beyond the eastern ridge at first light. He claims he only wants his son’s essence returned and justice for the attack on Caden. He says he will withdraw if we comply.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “Justice? Caden attacked me. He would have done worse if my power had not erupted. Graham does not want justice. He wants me dead or broken so I cannot threaten his control.”
The Alpha studied me again, more carefully this time. “Many in the pack still fear what you are. But after tonight’s reports of you fighting with us instead of hiding… opinions are shifting. Slowly. Do not give them reason to shift back.”
I nodded. I understood. Trust was earned in blood and battle, not words.
We prepared quickly. Alaric insisted I eat and drink something warm while healers checked my minor wounds. I used my own power to help mend a few of the worst injuries in the camp, careful to keep everything controlled. The warriors who received my healing watched me with wide eyes. Some even thanked me.
As the sun climbed higher, we made our way to the parley clearing under a flag of truce. Alaric walked on my right, Marcus on my left, with Corin and a dozen elite warriors behind us. My heart pounded as we stepped into the open space.
Graham waited on the other side, flanked by his beta and two dozen of his strongest fighters. The Alpha of Silverfang looked older and more haggard than I remembered, but his eyes burned with the same hatred when they landed on me.
“So the soul-eater returns,” Graham called out, voice carrying across the clearing. “Hiding behind Nightcrest dogs. Hand her over, Marcus, and we end this here. She carries my son’s essence. It belongs to Silverfang.”
Alaric growled low in his throat, stepping slightly in front of me. “She is my mate. Touch her and this parley ends in bloodshed.”
I lifted my chin and spoke clearly, surprised at how steady my voice sounded. “Caden attacked me. I defended myself. I will not return to Silverfang, and I will not give back what I took in survival. But I offer this—Nightcrest and Silverfang do not need to bleed over me. There are bigger threats.”
Graham laughed coldly. “Bigger threats? Like your new aunt? We know of Morgana. She contacted us days ago. Offered alliance if we helped retrieve you.”
My stomach dropped. Morgana had reached out to Silverfang? The woman who had trained me, who had sheltered me?
The seed of doubt I had felt earlier sprouted wider.
Before I could process it, Graham raised his hand. “This parley is over. You have until sunset tomorrow to deliver the girl. After that, we march on Nightcrest with everything we have.”
He turned and strode away with his warriors.
Alaric pulled me close as we retreated to our lines, but my mind raced. Morgana’s training, her calm guidance, the way the barriers had conveniently failed right when Alaric arrived… and now this.
Something was very wrong.
Back at camp, the mood was grim. Preparations for full war intensified. Alaric and I found a quiet moment inside a supply tent. He held me tightly, his chin resting on my head.
“We will face this together,” he murmured. “Whatever comes.”
I nodded against his chest, but I could not shake the growing unease. Morgana was still out there. And if she had truly contacted Graham, then the real danger might not be only on the battlefield.
As the sun climbed higher, a scout ran into camp, out of breath.
“Morgana has been spotted near the western ridge. She is asking to speak with Nova. Alone.”
Alaric stiffened. My pulse quickened.
The war outside was bad enough. But the war inside my own bloodline might be far worse.