Chapter 88 89
Alpha Gregor POV
The night was heavy with smoke and triumph. The storm had passed, but the air still pulsed with the heartbeat of battle — the mountain’s breath mingled with ours, raw and alive. Wolves from every pack raised their muzzles toward the bleeding dawn, howls rising into the crimson sky, a song of freedom and vengeance and survival.
I stood at the cliff’s edge, my fur still slick with blood — both mine and my enemies’. Around us, the snow was no longer white. It was the color of war. The Queen was dead. Her cursed army silenced. ASA’s iron machines lay in ruin, their human masters buried beneath the lands they tried to claim.
I threw back my head and howled, the sound echoing through the valley.
A call of victory. Of mourning. Of rebirth.
The others followed — Xander, Barbie (tiny and fierce, her fae wings glowing faintly), and the packs that had bled beside us. The mountains shook with it, a symphony of howls that carried for miles.
Then I felt her.
Marigold.
She came up beside me, shifting back into her human form, with shirts and jeans, thanks to Xander— dark hair tangled, her skin smeared with ash and blood, her eyes wild and alive. The fire of the warrior still danced in her veins, her aura still crackling with the remnants of that dark, ancient power that had saved us all.
Gods, she was magnificent.
“You did it,” she whispered, her breath visible in the cold air, her voice trembling with exhaustion and something softer. “You really did it, Alpha.”
I turned to her slowly, the storm still flashing faintly in the distance behind us. “No, we did it,” I said, voice rough. “You and I. Together.”
Her lips curled in a half-smile, that familiar sass flickering even through the exhaustion. “You mean I killed half the army while you were busy growling dramatically in slow motion.”
I couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped me. “You call it dramatic. I call it leadership.”
She snorted. “You call it leadership when I have to save your hairy—”
I cut her off with a kiss.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, tasting of blood and victory and relief. The kind of kiss that made the world fall away until there was nothing left but the two of us — survivors in the ruins of everything that once tried to destroy us.
Her hands fisted in my hair, mine gripped her waist. I pulled her closer until the warmth of her skin was the only thing anchoring me to the present. When we broke apart, she looked up at me, breathless, her eyes shining even in the dark.
“What happens now?” she asked softly.
“Now,” I murmured, pressing my forehead against hers, “you come home. To my pack. To the north.”
Her brow furrowed. “As what? A runaway? A curse? The Queen’s former prey?”
I smiled faintly, brushing my thumb over her cheek. “As my Luna. The North has been waiting for its true Luna — not the one who cursed us, but the one who freed us.”
She blinked, stunned. “Alpha Gregor…”
I silenced her with another kiss — slower this time, filled with promise instead of fire. “You are my heart, Marigold. My battle. My victory. There will be no more cages for you. No more chains. My pack will protect you as I do, or they will answer to me.”
Her hand found my chest, right over my heart, and I felt the bond between us pulse — fierce and ancient. “Then I promise you this,” she whispered. “I will fight beside you. Always. No more running.”
We stood there for a long moment, the mountain wind wrapping around us like a blessing.
Behind us, Beta Xander approached, blood still drying on his fur, eyes weary but bright. “Alpha,” he said, “the warriors are regrouping. The wounded are being carried down to the lower ridge. But…” His tone darkened. “Still no word from Prince Leon or his mate, Sugar. No sightings. Not even the King’s scouts.”
I nodded, jaw tightening. “I feared as much.”
Barbie, hovering beside him with her tiny arms crossed, frowned. “So basically—more humans being sneaky little jerks.”
“Precisely,” I said grimly. “They took Leon and Sugar for a reason. The Queen may be dead, but ASA’s ambitions aren’t. They’ll come again — harder this time.”
Marigold’s hand slipped into mine. “Then we go after them.”
“Not yet,” I said gently. “You need to heal. We all do. The North awaits us — my pack, our allies. We’ll regroup, gather strength. I’ll send spies across the human borders to track the ASA’s movements. We’ll find them — Leon, Sugar, everyone — and we’ll finish this war once and for all.”
Barbie nodded, a tiny spark of lightning dancing across her fingertips. “And when we do, I’m turning their labs into fireworks.”
Marigold smiled faintly at her. “Save one spark for me.”
I looked at the two of them — the last embers of something divine that refused to die — and felt something stir in my chest. Hope.
I turned toward the rising sun, the light spilling across the snow-stained peaks. “Come,” I said. “The North calls.”
We began to run — wolves and fae and survivors together — across the ridge and down into the valleys where our pack awaited. The wind howled behind us, carrying the scent of pine and blood and freedom.
Marigold shifted mid-stride, her silver wolf glinting under the morning light, and she ran beside me — fast, wild, untamed. Our bond pulsed with each heartbeat, a silent promise that whatever war waited ahead, we’d face it together.
The mountain roared its approval.
And as we crossed into the lands of the Northern Pack — the home that awaited us, the pack that would one day call her Luna — I sent a message through the mental link to my spies, a single command that echoed with the power of an Alpha reborn:
“Find Prince Leon. Find Sugar. The war is not over.”
But for now — for one fleeting sunrise —
we were alive.
We were free.
And I held my Luna in my arms beneath the burning dawn.