Chapter 173: Lethal

The world snapped back into focus all at once, too bright, too clear, too real. The battle noise crashed over me like a wave—snarls, shouts, the thundering of paws, the crackle of wolfsbane pellets still firing from somewhere behind our line.

Somewhere amidst the wreckage, Willow was helping Juniper, injured rogues were retreating, and the Silverstone pack was converging.

My mind was a raw hurricane of thought, each one spiraling and twisting around another. I didn’t have time to process what they meant. I had one goal in my mind: that I refused to lose anyone else.

The rogue lay twisted in the dirt, its body wrong in ways I didn’t want to look at too closely. I hadn’t touched it. I hadn’t even moved. And yet—

My stomach lurched with nausea.

I staggered back a step, paws slipping in the torn earth. The air around me felt too thin, too tight, like the forest itself had stopped breathing. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a frantic, uneven thud.

I’d killed it. Not in a fight. Not in defense. Not with tooth or claw.

With my mind.

My breath hitched, sharp and painful, as if my lungs had forgotten how to work while I’d been using my powers.

But the battlefield had gone quiet. Not silent—wolves still clashed at the edges, the traps still snapped, the nets still fell—but something had shifted. A ripple of unease moved through the clearing, a collective shudder that had nothing to do with the wolfsbane or the nets.

It was me. So many wolves—ours and rogues alike— had paused, and they were staring.

And then I felt him. Levi.

He’d stopped fighting Skye and Kairn. His massive wolf form bristled, his eyes locked on me with a look so sharp it felt like claws dragging across my skin.

Fury, awe, disbelief. But beneath it all—beneath the snarl curling his lips—was something unmistakable.

Fear. Levi was afraid.

He’d seen. He knew what I could do, the full extent of how my powers could be used.

His growl rumbled through the clearing, low and dangerous. “What are you?” he snarled in my head, his voice rough and trembling. There was something else, that same admiration he’d conveyed when he spoke about how ‘special’ I was.

The question hit me like a slap to the face.

I didn’t know what I was. I’d never found out where my mother’s family came from.

And now, I didn’t have time to figure it out, because Levi lunged toward me suddenly.

Skye moved instantly, his wolf form slamming into Levi’s path. Kairn followed, intercepting Levi’s flank with a protective snarl. The impact shook the ground, the three wolves colliding in a blur of fur and fury.

But Levi wasn’t fighting them. He’d abandoned his desire for revenge against the Shadowthornes. Instead, he was fighting to get to me.

His gaze never left mine, even as Skye tore into his shoulder with his teeth, even as Kairn forced him back step by step. His rage was a living thing, wild and unhinged, fueled by the humiliation of watching his pack fall apart—and by the terror of what he’d just witnessed. If he’d wanted to control me before, now his desperation was palpable in the air.

“Tyranni, stay back,” Skye warned, his voice sharp in my mind.

But Levi’s fury hit me like a physical force, and something inside me—something raw and instinctive—rose to meet it.

The haze didn’t return.

This time, it was something clearer. Sharper. Controlled.

My breath steadied. My heartbeat slowed. The world narrowed to Levi’s form, to the way he strained against Skye and Kairn, to the way his eyes burned with hatred and fear and want.

I didn’t reach for my power. This time, it reached for me.

The air around Levi tightened, subtle at first—just enough to snap him out of his determination. His snarl faltered, confusion flickering across his features. He shook his head, trying to break free, as if my mind was a living creature he could fight off.

Skye’s eyes widened. “Tyranni—”

But I wasn’t lost this time. I wasn’t drowning in grief or rage. I was standing.

And Levi was the one who couldn’t move. It was his turn to be held captive.

His limbs jerked, his body twisting as if invisible hands were pulling him in different directions. He let out a guttural sound—half snarl, half whine—as the pressure increased.

Not enough to kill, just enough to make him feel it.

His fear spiked, sharp and unmistakable.

“Tyranni, stop,” Kairn said, voice low, urgent. “You’re going to kill him.”

Good. The thought came unbidden, cold and quiet.

Levi’s eyes, the sharp one and the white, locked onto mine, wide now, cracking to reveal something far more satisfying—panic. His body strained against the hold I had on him, muscles trembling, paws scraping uselessly at the dirt.

He wasn’t in control of the situation anymore. I was.

“Tyranni,” Skye said, his voice gentle in my head. “He’s beaten. Let him go. He’s our prisoner now.”

But Levi’s gaze held mine, and in it I saw every threat he’d ever made. Every time he’d hunted us. Every time he’d found his way into my dreams. Every time he’d hurt someone I loved.

Including Norrix and Luna Vera.

My breath stuttered.

The pressure around him tightened for a heartbeat, just enough to make him yelp in pain as his hind legs broke, enough to make the few rogues that were still fighting freeze in terror.

Then I exhaled slowly and released him.

Levi collapsed to the ground, panting, trembling, his limbs shaking from the strain. He scrambled backward, eyes never leaving me, his fear so thick it pulsed through the clearing like a second heartbeat.

He didn’t snarl. He didn’t threaten. He didn’t even try to stand his ground. He scrambled, dragging his legs as he tried to retreat.

Kairn closed the distance between us. “You did the right thing,” he whispered, nuzzling me. “You stopped.”

Skye stood just behind Kairn, his expression unreadable—but his eyes burned with something fierce and protective, a silent promise that he would not let anything else touch me.

But I wasn’t looking at them.

My gaze was locked on Levi as he dragged himself backward through the dirt, trembling, desperate to get away from me. The sight should have satisfied something in me. It didn’t. It only made the hollow ache in my chest deepen.

“Tyranni!”

My name didn’t come through the bond. It wasn’t a mind‑link whisper or a warning from the pack. It was a voice—sharp, human, echoing through the trees.

My head snapped toward the sound.

Clove stood only a few paces away, fully human, bare skin streaked with dirt and sweat. But that wasn’t what made my breath catch.

It was the gun in her hands. The weapon wasn’t meant to sting or slow. I knew whatever she’d loaded into that chamber was lethal.

Her smile stretched across her face, slow, triumphant, and cruel.

Time seemed to stand still, the world narrowing to the glint of metal as cold certainty settled in the pit of my stomach.

Then Clove pulled the trigger.