Chapter 173 They're Blackwood Wolves
She held up her hand, and a soft, emerald light flickered around her fingertips. The air grew warmer, charged with an elemental energy that Northcott had only ever theorized about. “You hunted the elementals, trying to harness their power. You never understood. It wasn’t about wielding a trinket. It was about becoming one with it.” Her gaze, sharp and unwavering, pinned Northcott to the spot. “Amd your little concoction… it only amplified what I already possessed.”
Northcott sputtered, his face paling. “Impossible… the reports… the potency…”
Fennigan stepped forward, his voice a low, dangerous growl that promised retribution. He snatched the contract from the table where he’d signed it, holding it up for Northcott to see. “You wished to distract me, Northcott? To isolate me from my family? To gain access to my children?” His eyes blazed with a ferocity that made Northcott flinch. “You have made a grave error.”
With a flick of his wrist he pulled a lighter from his pocket, Fennigan ignited the parchment. Flames, hot and vibrant, consumed the document, turning Northcott’s manipulative scheme into ash. “Your plans are void, Councilman. Just like your authority.”
He turned, his voice ringing with undeniable command. “Jax! Seize this traitor!”
Jax reappeared in the hallway, his expression grim. He hadn't rushed to administer a antidote, but to secure Northcott’s expected arrest. He moved with practiced efficiency, flanking Northcott, who stood frozen, his bravado utterly evaporated.
Northcott finally found his voice, a pathetic whimper. “You can’t do this! I am a councilman!”
“You are a murderer,” Fennigan stated, his gaze never leaving Northcott’s terrified face. “And you have attempted to assassinate a Luna of the Blackwood pack. By order of Alpha Fennigan Blackwood, you are under arrest for treason and attempted murder.”
Jax ignored his screams of protest, simply giving a firm, unyielding shove that propelled Northcott forward. The old man stumbled, his age suddenly seeming to press down on him with the weight of his exposure. Jax kept up the steady pressure, a relentless, uncaring force pushing the disgraced councilman out of the grand hall and towards the waiting pack enforcers beyond the doors. He didn’t care if Northcott fell or kept walking; his only concern was removal.
Fennigan turned to Leela. The fierce Alpha melted away, replaced by the devoted mate. He crossed the distance between them in two strides, pulling her into his arms, his wolf whimpering with relief. Caspian and Briar, sensing the shift, nuzzled into their parents’ embrace.
“Leela,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, pressing his forehead against hers. “You are safe. You are alive.”
Leela held him tightly, her power radiating a comforting warmth. “Always, my love. Always.” She glanced down at their children, a soft smile gracing her lips. “And they are safe too. Thanks to a mother who is a little more… elemental than the council had prepared for.”
Fennigan pulled back, gazing at his mate, at the powerful, radiant woman who had defied death itself. Caspian, his cheeks puffed out, prepared to blow raspberries, but Briar beat him to it, letting out a playful puff that made Leela laugh. Fennigan, seeing his son’s intent, took Caspian from Leela’s hip and blew a series of loud, ticklish raspberries on his chubby cheeks, eliciting a delighted squeal from the little boy. Fennigan chuckled, a sound of pure joy and relief, the weight of the world lifting with his son's laughter. He looked at his mate and children, his heart swelling with a love that transcended even the wildest of his dreams. The future was uncertain, the political fallout from Northcott’s downfall would be immense, but for now, in the heart of their ancestral home, surrounded by his family, Fennigan Blackwood had everything he could ever want.
Jax, having efficiently turned Northcott over to the waiting guards who would escort him to the holding cells until the capital’s authorities arrived, re-entered the grand hall. His voice, rough but resolute, cut through the tension. "Done."
"Oof," Ginny breathed out, her eyes widening as a surprised, genuine smile finally touched her lips. She looked up at Jax, her amber eyes shimmering. "I think Iggy was waiting for his father to check in. As soon as you spoke, he practically did a somersault. He’s been restless, but he knows your voice."
Jax’s rough edges, honed by years of being the Alpha’s shadow, seemed to dissolve. He moved with a reverence that felt sacred in the middle of a war zone, lowering his head until his ear was pressed against the soft fabric covering Ginny’s stomach.
"Hey there, little wolf," Jax whispered against her skin.
Almost on cue, a swift, enthusiastic kick landed right against Jax’s cheek, strong enough to make him recoil slightly in surprise. Jax let out a laugh—a deep, rumbling sound of pure, unadulterated contentment that seemed to chase the last of the "Vane-rot" out of the hallway.
He straightened up, his hand covering Ginny’s on the apex of her belly, feeling the strong, defiant pulse of their child within. He leaned in, pressing a quick, tender kiss to her lips that tasted of promise and protection.
"This," he murmured, his forehead resting against hers as the world outside the Blackwood estate prepared for a storm. "This is what it's all about. This is why we hold the line."
Leela walked in first, her hand resting atop the swell of her six-month bump. Just as she crossed the threshold, a sharp, rolling pressure made her breath hitch. "Oof," she exhaled, mirroring Ginny’s earlier reaction. Zephyr wasn't just kicking; it felt like the little wolf was trying to reshape the landscape.
She turned back toward Ginny, a playful, tired glint returning to her sapphire eyes. "Hey," Leela joked, bracing herself against the counter. "Tell your little wolf to keep his kicks to himself! I think Zephyr is trying to kick out of here"
Ginny laughed, a bright, clear sound that hadn't been heard in hours. She stepped forward, and in a silent, sisterly pact of defiance against the Council’s darkness, the two women leaned in until their baby bumps touched—a physical bridge between the next generation of Blackwood.
Elana was standing by the large butcher-block island, a tray of tea forgotten in her hands. She watched the scene unfold: Jax with his arm draped protectively over Ginny’s shoulder, Fennigan standing tall beside Leela, and the twins already scavenging for snacks at the table.
The sight hit her with the force of a tidal wave. Tears, hot and thick with relief, began to track down her cheeks.
"Elana, what’s wrong?" Damon asked, stepping into the room from the mudroom. He paused, his brow furrowing in concern as he saw his wife’s trembling lip.
Elana reached out, grabbing her husband’s hand and pulling him close. "Damon... look at them."
She gestured to the room. "Our sons, standing like towers. Their mates, who have more fire in them than any Alpha I’ve ever known. And our grandchildren..." She looked at the twins, then at the two growing bellies in the center of the room. "My heart is so full, Damon. I have to cry, or I think it might actually burst."
Damon’s expression softened into a look of pride. He had fought a hundred battles to keep this land, but this—the messy, loud, beautiful sanctuary of his kitchen—was the only victory that mattered. He chuckled low in his throat, a sound of deep satisfaction, and pulled Elana into a protective embrace, resting his chin on top of her head.
"They're wolves of Blackwood, Elana," he murmured, his eyes catching Fennigan's across the room. "They’ll never break a bond this thick."