Chapter 144 For Our Little Wolf

Chapter 144 For Our Little Wolf
Rian

I stand beside Jericho’s cradle and feel as though my heart is being torn from my chest. The room is quiet except for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the tiny sounds my son makes as he sleeps, easy, contented coos that fill the room with warmth. 

Dawn has not yet arrived. The castle still rests beneath a blanket of darkness. 

Bailey stands beside me, with one hand resting on the edge of the cradle as tears stream down her face. She doesn’t wipe them away. Jericho is wrapped in a silver blanket embroidered with the crest of Silverhide. His tiny fist is curled beside his cheek. 

He looks so content, and so innocent. He has no idea that his parents are about to go to war, that one final threat is preventing peace in the kingdom he will one day inherit. We’ll talk to him about this moment someday so that he knows how to face threats like this himself. But for now, he remains safe and unaware of the dangers surrounding us. 

I reach down and brush a finger across his soft cheek.

“He's so small,” Bailey whispers.

My throat tightens. “And so peaceful.”

“What if he forgets us?” she asks, choking back a sob. 

The question nearly destroys me. I slide an arm around her waist and pull her against me, stroking her soft hair. “He won't forget us. He won't even remember this. We’ll be back before he knows we even left,” I try to reassure her… to reassure myself. 

Bailey lowers her head, and that sob escapes her lips. I hold her tighter, feeling her body quiver against mine as she cries against my shoulder. 

I steel myself to keep uncertainty at bay. If I let myself think about what could happen in Junhera, I won't leave this room..

Jericho stirs, and his bright blue eyes blink open. 

Bailey immediately bends over the cradle. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

His tiny hand reaches upward. The sight makes her cry harder. She picks him up and holds him against her chest, rocking him gently.

“I love you so much,” she says. 

Jericho yawns, completely unaware that his mother is devastated. “I love you more than the moon and the stars,” she adds. 

Tears begin to fill my eyes as I watch her kiss the top of his head over and over.

“I’ll come back to you soon.” She says it like a promise and a prayer.

I step closer and place my hand over Jericho's back. “We both will.”

I memorize everything about him: his scent, his weight, the softness of his skin—every tiny detail. I want those images to be forever in my mind while I fight for his future, for our future.

Eventually, there is a knock at the door. The sound feels like a cruel reminder that time has run out. Our new head maid, Sadie, enters quietly.

“Alpha and Luna Gray,” she says softly. “The warriors are gathering.”

Bailey closes her eyes, and then she nods. I take Jericho from her and hold him one last time. My son blinks up at me. He trusts me to keep him safe, and I aim to do exactly that. 

I kiss his forehead. “Goodbye, little wolf.” My voice nearly fails. “I'll be back before you know it.”

Then I hand him to Sadie, and it’s the most gut-wrenching thing I have ever done.

Sadie cradles him carefully. “I will guard him with my life, Alpha, Luna.”

I nod. “Thank you, Sadie.”

Bailey kisses Jericho one final time, and then she turns away before she loses her courage. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and guide her from the room. Neither of us looks back because we know that if we do, we may never leave.

When we get to the shifting barracks, they’re already crowded. Thousands of warriors fill the massive stone structure. The air hums with anticipation and determination. Every wolf in this room knows what waits beyond our borders.

Bailey stands beside me as we prepare our satchels. Mine carries spare clothing, Bailey's moonstones, Ava's notes, medicinal supplies, alchemical ingredients, and every piece of knowledge we may need once the fighting begins. Bailey's satchel carries clothing and additional necessities.

A guard approaches.

“Ready, Alpha Gray?”

I nod, and hand him our bags. Then I shift. My bones crack, muscles stretch, and heat races through my body. Moments later, I stand on four paws.

Beside me, Bailey shifts into her white wolf, and the guard secures our satchels across our backs.

When we step out, thousands of wolves wait on the fields. They’re ready. 

We leave Silverhide as the first hint of sunlight touches the mountain tops. Silverhide wolves surge forward together. The sight is incredible—an endless river of fur and movement flowing across the kingdom. The ground trembles beneath countless paws.

I run at the front beside Bailey. “I already miss him,” she says. 

Pain rushes into my chest. “Me too.”

“I hated leaving him.” She sounds shaky in the link. Then her voice grows steadier. “We'll come back.”

“Yes. We have to.”

Hours later, the cliffs of Silverpeak rise before us. When we arrive at the castle gates, their warriors are stationed there, and at their head stands Luna Erin. Even from a distance, her silver-gray wolf is unmistakable.

The moment our forces merge, our numbers swell even further. Thousands become tens of thousands. The army stretches across the landscape as far as I can see. Erin falls into step beside Bailey and me, and together, we continue toward Crestwood. 

Toward our destiny.

By the time we reach the Crestwood border, the sun hangs low in the sky, and the allied packs are gathered. There are eight banners, eight armies, eight packs standing together. Wolves fill the valleys, hills, and forests in every direction. 

We’re an ocean of warriors waiting for darkness. The massive army remains quiet, focused, and patient. This is the final calm before the storm.

As twilight approaches, Bailey settles beside me beneath a line of trees overlooking the border.

“Are you scared?” she asks.

I stare toward the distant lands of Junhera, the kingdom that has brought death to so many. The enemy waits beyond the darkness.

“Yes.” There is no point in lying.

After a moment, she presses against my side. “Me too.”

I lean against her, drawing strength from the bond we share, and from the boy waiting for us at home.

Across the border, night slowly begins to fall, and commands spread silently through the waiting armies.

Every wolf rises. The time has come.

I look once toward the stars beginning to appear overhead, toward the same sky hanging above Silverhide, and above Jericho.

“This is for our son,” Bailey says.

I bare my teeth and fix my gaze on Junhera. “For our son.”