Chapter 51: Bound by Blood

The announcement was made at dusk.

The entirety of the Ironfang pack—those who had survived—came to swear fealty to Jack.

I stood beside Dax as we watched them kneel in the clearing outside the packhouse, one by one, their heads bowed, their voices steady as they repeated the oath that bound them to our pack. Jack’s voice was strong as he accepted their submission, his presence a steady force amid the tension.

But beside me, Dax remained still as stone.

I could feel the weight of his unease, the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched each time one of the Ironfang wolves spoke. He didn’t trust them. I wasn’t sure if he ever would.

I reached for his hand, my fingers brushing against his. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t respond either.

It didn’t matter that they had submitted.

To him, they would always be the enemy.

Jack’s voice carried through the gathering. “From this day forward, you are members of this pack. You will abide by our rules, fight under our banner, and earn your place among us.” His gaze swept over them, sharp and unwavering. “Prove your loyalty, and you will have a home here.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

Dax exhaled sharply beside me.

I turned to him, speaking softly so only he could hear. “This is the right choice.”

He let out a quiet, bitter laugh. “That’s what you always say.”

“Because I believe it.” I squeezed his hand. “And I believe in you.”

He finally looked at me then, his eyes burning with something unreadable. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, he exhaled and gave a single, reluctant nod.

I knew it wasn’t trust.

But it was something.

The war room was silent.

Jack sat at the head of the table, Dax standing beside him, his arms crossed. Pierce was there, along with a handful of senior warriors. And Kael—Kael was on his knees, shackled, his face bruised but still wearing that infuriating smirk.

Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. “We can’t keep him locked up forever.”

Dax scoffed. “We could. I’d even volunteer to watch him rot.”

I folded my arms. “That’s not justice, Dax.”

His gaze flicked to me. “Then what is?”

Jack leaned forward. “We execute him.”

The words hung in the air like a blade.

Kael didn’t flinch.

Dax exhaled, nodding slowly. “Good.”

But something twisted in my gut.

I wasn’t naïve. I knew what Kael had done. I knew the blood on his hands. But standing here, staring at him, I saw something else—something I wasn’t sure Dax could.

Regret.

It was buried deep beneath the arrogance, beneath the smirks and the sharp words. But it was there.

“Wait,” I said.

Dax tensed. “Alina—”

“I need to talk to him.”

Silence.

Then Jack sighed. “You have five minutes.”

Dax looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave me a sharp look before stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Kael chuckled. “He really hates me.”

I sat across from him. “Maybe you should stop giving him reasons to.”

He tilted his head. “Wouldn’t be any fun.”

I sighed. “Kael. If I tell Jack not to kill you, what will you do with that chance?”

His smirk faltered, just for a second.

Then, finally, he exhaled. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then, voice low, he said, “I don’t want to die.”

I studied him. “Do you want to live?”

His eyes met mine. “I think so.”

I didn’t know if he was telling the truth.

But I was willing to find out.

That night, Dax was restless.

He paced the room, tension rolling off him in waves. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him, waiting for him to speak.

When he finally did, his voice was hoarse. “I don’t know how to let this go, Alina.”

I stood, stepping toward him, my fingers brushing against his arm. “Then don’t. But don’t let it consume you either.”

His gaze darkened. “What if it already has?”

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I reached up, cupping his face in my hands. His skin was warm beneath my fingertips, his jaw tight. I traced my thumb over the scar on his cheek, felt the way he shuddered beneath my touch.

He was unraveling.

I could see it in the way his breath hitched, in the way his hands clenched at his sides like he was fighting something—fighting himself.

So I kissed him.

It wasn’t soft.

It was raw, desperate. A battle all its own.

Dax growled against my lips, his hands finally gripping my waist, pulling me closer, his touch rough and needy. His mouth was fire and fury, teeth grazing my bottom lip, fingers digging into my hips like he was afraid to let go.

I gasped as he lifted me, my back pressing against the wall.

“Tell me this is real,” he muttered against my skin. “Tell me I’m not losing you too.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. “I’m right here.”

His eyes burned into mine, something fragile hidden beneath all that darkness.

Then, without another word, he kissed me again.

And this time, he didn’t hold back.