Chapter 58

Chapter 58
Elara’s POV

I woke to pain first. It burned sharp across my back, spreading through my body like fire. I tried to move, but my muscles wouldn’t listen. My throat was dry, my lips cracked. For a moment I thought I was still out there in the dirt, rogues all around me, blood pouring out of me.

Then I heard his voice.

“Elara, stay with me. Please.”

Damian.

My eyes blinked open, heavy, blurry. His face was above me, tense, shadowed, like he hadn’t slept in days. His hand was gripping mine, tight, almost shaking.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Safe. The word felt strange. The walls around me weren’t Stone Ridge, weren’t my old home. They were Stormfang. A place that had never wanted me here. A place now even more divided because of me.

I tried to speak, but my voice cracked. Damian leaned closer. “Don’t try to talk. Sarah’s working on you.”

I turned my head slightly, enough to see Sarah bent over me, her hands steady even as sweat rolled down her forehead. She was stitching the wound on my back, her touch firm but careful. Every time the needle pierced my skin, I flinched, but she didn’t stop.

“She lost too much blood,” Sarah muttered, not to me, but to Damian. “She’s lucky to still be breathing.”

Lucky. That word sat heavy in the air.

I wanted to say something, anything, but then the voices hit me. Not in the room. Beyond the walls. Wolves talking, arguing, their words like knives even muffled through the walls.

“She’s dangerous.”

“She saved us.”

“She killed rogues with her hands. What if she turns on us next?”

“She’s a Giftmaker, don’t you see? She could make Stormfang stronger than it’s ever been.”

Stronger. Dangerous. Weapon. I closed my eyes, wishing I could block it all out.

“Stop listening to them,” Damian’s voice cut through, softer now, like he knew exactly what was happening in my head. His thumb brushed across my knuckles, grounding me. “They don’t get to define you.”

I opened my eyes again, staring up at him. His eyes were tired, darker than usual, but steady. He wasn’t leaving my side. Not even with the whole pack whispering about me outside.

The door creaked open. Marcus stepped in. His arm was wrapped in a bandage, his expression unreadable.

Sarah stiffened, not looking up from her work. Damian’s grip on my hand tightened.

“What do you want?” Damian asked, his voice sharp.

“The council meets at dawn,” Marcus said flatly. “She needs to be there.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Damian snapped. “Not like this.”

Marcus’s eyes flicked to me, then back to him. “The pack is split down the middle. Half see her as salvation. Half see her as a curse. If she doesn’t speak for herself, they’ll decide without her.”

A chill ran down my spine. Decide. About me. Like I wasn’t even human.

“No,” Damian growled. “She’s healing. That’s final.”

Marcus didn’t back down. His jaw tightened, his voice cold. “You can’t shield her forever, Damian. If you try, the pack will see it as weakness. And weakness is something we can’t afford right now.”

The room went still. Damian stood, his body blocking me, his voice like steel. “Get out.”

Marcus didn’t move for a moment, then finally turned, leaving without another word. The door shut, but his shadow still lingered in my mind.

I swallowed, forcing my dry throat to work. “He’s right.”

Damian spun back to me, his eyes flashing. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say that.”

“I heard them,” I whispered. “All of them. They’re scared of me. If I don’t face them…” My voice broke. “I’ll always be the danger in the room.”

His hand cupped my face, gentle, trembling. “You are not a danger. You are the reason we’re still standing.”

Tears stung my eyes, spilling hot and fast down my temples. “And if they don’t believe that? What then?”

His silence was heavy. He didn’t have an answer.

Sarah finally spoke, her voice softer now. “Elara, your body can’t take more tonight. But she’s right, Damian. If she doesn’t show them who she is, they’ll make her into something she’s not.”

I forced myself to breathe through the pain, through the fire in my back. I looked at Damian, his face torn between fury and fear. “Then I’ll do it. At dawn.”

He shook his head, desperate. “You can’t even stand—”

“Then you’ll help me stand,” I cut him off, my voice raw but steady. “Because I’m done hiding.”

The silence after that was sharp, heavy. Damian stared at me, his chest rising and falling like he was trying to fight the entire world at once. Then his shoulders sagged, just slightly.

“Dawn,” he muttered, like the word itself hurt. His thumb brushed across my cheek again, softer now. “But you’re not facing them alone.”

I nodded, even as exhaustion pulled me back under. The fire in my back dulled, the room blurred. But his hand never left mine, his presence never faded.

And as darkness took me again, I held onto one truth. 

At dawn, the pack would decide who I was. And I wasn’t going to let them speak for me anymore.