Chapter 62: The Storm Gathers

Chapter 62: The Storm Gathers


Kael’s POV

The forest never slept.

Wolves whispered in its shadows, owls called from its branches, and the wind carried a thousand scents through the trees. But tonight, all of it was drowned beneath the storm that lived inside me.

Fianna.

Her name burned on my tongue, a curse and a prayer.

I could feel her still. The bond was faint—strained, weakened, almost like smoke slipping through clenched fists—but it was there. Every few heartbeats, it pulsed, a fragile thrum in my chest, reminding me that she was alive. Barely. Hurting. But alive.

And that was the only thing keeping me from ripping apart everything in my path.

“Alpha,” Thorne’s voice cut through the night. My beta crouched near the campfire, his expression grim. “The scouts tracked Derek’s men north. Toward the ridge.”

I turned toward him, my wolf pacing hot and restless beneath my skin. My hands curled into fists, claws itching to break free. “How many?”

“Too many to strike without preparation.” Thorne’s voice was calm, measured, but his eyes betrayed him. Even he felt the tension, the danger. “If we rush headlong, we’ll be slaughtered before reaching her.”

My jaw clenched until it ached. He was right. Logic told me to wait, to plan, to gather my strength. But every flicker of the bond, every whisper of her pain, clawed at me until patience felt like betrayal.

I had betrayed her once already.

In the dungeon, when I wrapped my hand around her throat and called her a liar. When I let fear and memory blind me to the truth burning in her eyes.

I closed my eyes now, fighting the image back. Her voice echoed, broken but strong: I didn’t do it, Kael. Please, believe me.

And I hadn’t.

Now she was in Derek’s hands. And Derek knew what she was.

My wolf snarled, shaking through me, barely restrained. Ours. She is ours. He cannot have her.

“I don’t care how many stand in our way,” I growled, the sound low and lethal. “We’ll tear through them.”

“Kael,” Thorne pressed, his tone cautious but firm. “You can’t lead blind. Derek’s fortress isn’t like others. It was built for war. Built to break wolves. If we go now, we walk into his jaws.”

I snapped my head toward him, eyes blazing. “Then we break his jaws.”

The words came sharp, but they weren’t enough to quiet the pounding in my chest. I rose to my feet, pacing the fire’s edge, the flames reflecting in my silver eyes.

Every memory of Fianna came back sharper. The way she walked into my hall, trembling but unyielding. The way her voice carried at the festival before the whispers destroyed her. The way her eyes—gods, her eyes—looked at me even when she should have hated me.

She was mine. My Luna. My curse. My salvation.

And I had let her fall.

Not again. Never again.

Behind me, the pack murmured. They felt it too—the storm gathering in me, the hunger for blood. Wolves thrived on strength, and mine had always been control, iron walls no one could breach. But tonight, that control fractured. The bond tore through me, demanding vengeance, demanding war.

“We can’t go in blind,” Thorne repeated, quieter now. He wasn’t challenging me—he was reminding me. “But we can prepare. Call the Council. Rally the allies. Let them see what Derek has done. If you move alone, you risk losing her and Moonstone.”

Moonstone. My pack. My people.

Duty warred with instinct, the Alpha with the mate. But as the bond pulsed again—weak, pained, but alive—the decision burned clear as fire.

I would not choose between them. I would have both.

“Summon the Council,” I ordered, my voice steel. “Send messengers to every loyal pack. Tell them Derek moves to claim what is not his. Tell them he plans to crown himself king.”

Thorne’s eyes flickered, sharp and approving. “And what of Fianna?”

The name left his lips carefully, almost like a test. For a long moment, I didn’t answer. Then I turned toward the north, the ridges rising like teeth against the night sky.

“She is mine,” I said, my voice low, lethal. “And I will bring her home. Derek thinks he can shackle her, bend her. He doesn’t know what she is. He doesn’t know who she belongs to.”

My wolf howled then, loud and savage, ripping through the forest. It was a call, a vow, a promise of blood. The pack joined it, voices rising, fierce and united, until the night itself trembled.

I tilted my head back, letting the sound shake through me. The bond thrummed faintly in my chest, and for the first time, I swore I felt it answer.

Fianna.

She was still fighting.

And so was I.

Tomorrow, the Council will gather. Tomorrow, alliances would be forged.

But soon—I would burn Derek’s fortress to the ground.

And when the ashes fell, Fianna would stand beside me again.