Chapter 186 – The Long Road Home
Hazel
We’ve been traveling since dawn, moving in formation without needing words. Wolves don’t need them. Every flick of an ear, every shift in pace, every exhale is enough. After Silvercrest, the silence feels earned.
Jace runs ahead of us, a dark streak cutting through the snow. He’s scouting, but he looks like freedom itself. Each stride measured and effortless. I match pace behind him, keeping the line tight. The others spread out to either side, a moving constellation of fur and breath and quiet strength.
Eli’s the one to break the peaceful silence, of course.
I’m freezing my ass off! He complains through the pack link, his mental voice thick with mock suffering.
Ronan’s reply rumbles across the bond, deep and amused. I thought you were in a hurry to get home? And you better make sure you hang on to that ass, it belongs to me.
Eli grumbles, all exaggerated despair. I hope you all enjoy my tragic death by hypothermia. Tell my story.
You’re not dying, Mara cuts in. You’re just dramatic.
Ronan’s tone drops to a register that should convey warning, but somehow sounds affectionate. Eli.
There’s a pause, and then a burst of warmth through the bond. Eli’s joy, tangled with something deeper. Fine, Eli mutters. Warm me up then. You should take care of your Omega, Alpha.
A growl rolls across the link, and a heartbeat later, both of their scents veer off from the group. The rest of us slow down instinctively. I exchange a look with Jace.
He doesn’t even bother hiding his smirk. Do we wait for them?
No point, I send back. They’ll catch up again once he stops pretending to be cold.
We keep moving, paws whispering through the snow. It’s easier to breathe now, easier to exist. The constant coil of vigilance that’s lived in my spine since Alaric set his sight on destroying Blackthorn, has finally unwound.
Sometimes, when I glance behind us, I almost expect to see the storm of that place still chasing our heels. But there’s no threat from Silvercrest anymore.
By late afternoon, we slow to shift back, the clearing sheltered enough to camp. We shake snow from our fur, skin reforming, limbs reshaping, until the air is filled with steam and human voices again. Ronan and Eli return after dark, both looking far too pleased with themselves.
Eli drops into the circle by the fire we’ve built and groans dramatically. “I can feel my soul defrosting.”
“You don’t have a soul,” I say.
“Then what’s this radiant warmth inside me?”
Ronan lifts an eyebrow. “Me.”
Eli grins at him unapologetically. “Fair point.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s hard not to smile. There’s something soothing about their nonsense. After everything we’ve lived through, even Eli’s whining feels like a blessing.
The campfire crackles high, spitting sap. The smoke curls up into the air like a promise that nothing will chase us tonight.
Jace sits across from me, cleaning his knife with a rag, his movements slow and purposeful. The firelight paints his face in amber, his eyes catching every flicker.
He doesn’t speak, and I don’t either. The quiet between us isn’t awkward exactly, but it’s not comfortable either. It’s charged, filled with everything neither of us knows how to name.
Then, out of nowhere, he says, “I’m glad you came.”
I blink. “You should be.”
Fuck. What the hell was that? I have no idea where that came from. My mouth just blurted the first words that popped into my head. Thank you, or So am I, couldn’t possibly have been that much harder to come up with, could it?
Eli snorts so hard he almost tips backward. “Oh my gods, Hazel. Was that supposed to be flirting or a threat?”
“Shut up, Eli.”
“I’m just saying, the delivery could use work.”
Jace’s mouth twitches. “It’s fine,” he says, deadpan. “She threatens everyone she likes.”
My cheeks redden as his meaning sinks in. “That’s not true,” I protest. “I threaten everyone equally.”
“Equal opportunity violence,” Eli says, sounding delighted.
“Keep talking and I’ll test it.”
“See?” Jace murmurs, still not looking up from his knife. If he met my eyes right now I’d probably combust.
The laughter dies down eventually, replaced by the sound of wood cracking in the fire and the soft rustle of wind through the trees.
We eat what’s left of the smoked venison from the journey, pass around a flask that burns all the way down, and just enjoy each other’s company. It feels surreal.
The quiet stretches long and warm. The smell of smoke sticks to our hair, our clothes, our skin. Proof of life.
I lie back and look up. The stars are endless, bright enough to drown thought. It’s amazing how far we’ve come. How not long ago, none of us would’ve dared to laugh this loud or sleep this easy.
All our lives have changed so much since the moment Ronan dragged Eli into our midst. He’s been the catalyst for most of the emotional shift in our pack. Not just Ronan, all of us.
When the others start to drift off, I take the first watch. The night is sharp but not too bad.
Jace joins me halfway through, silent at first. He doesn’t need to ask permission to sit beside me. His shoulder brushes mine, just once, and my heart starts galloping with the force of an entire herd of wild horses.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask quietly.
He shakes his head. “Didn’t want to.”
“Why not?”
He looks out over the field, eyes reflecting starlight. “It feels too easy,” he says. “Like if I blink, it’ll all come undone. We’ll wake up back in that hall.”
I know the feeling too well. “It won’t.”
He glances sideways. “You sound sure.”
“I’m trying it on,” I say. “Confidence. Seeing if it fits.”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “It does.”
The words hang between us, warm as the fire. The air hums faintly through the link that connects the pack. Everyone’s steady. Everyone’s safe. For once, there’s no edge waiting behind the quiet.
He leans back on his hands, gaze tilted skyward. “You’ll make a good Captain someday,” he says suddenly.
I snort. “Don’t curse me like that.”
He chuckles softly. “Too late.”
For a while, we just sit there. Watching the stars. Listening to the faint sounds of the others breathing. The fire burns down to glowing coals, and the night folds itself around us.
We shift and run at first light, paws cutting fresh paths through the powder. The cold feels good now. I can sense the way home is calling to us.
By midday, the first border markers appear. Jagged stones carved with Blackthorn’s sigil, half-buried under snow.
The moment my paws touch familiar soil, something inside me unclenches. Tight muscles loosening, lungs expanding, heartbeat steadying. The pack link hums stronger here, fuller, like the land itself recognizes us.
Eli lets out a loud bark that startles a flock of birds into the air. Home! he shouts through the link.
Ronan’s answering rumble rolls through all of us, low and warm. Home.
I glance at Jace running beside me, snow spraying from his stride. His tongue lolls out, eyes bright. He doesn’t need to say anything.
When we crest the final ridge and the familiar pines rise up to meet us, I feel it fully. The sharp, clean joy of coming home.