71

71
Jaden’s POV

The pack was never silent for long, not truly. Even in the dead of night, wolves stirred in their sleep, shifted restlessly, or paced the edges of the territory like shadows on patrol. But tonight was different.
The silence had weight. It pressed down like a suffocating blanket, smothering the usual rustle of branches and low murmurs. A silence born not of peace but of fear.
I could feel it long before I heard it. Fear had a pulse, and in this cursed body of mine, it thrummed in my bones like a drumbeat. The whispers spread faster than fire—carrying her name, carrying mine.
Thalia.
I pushed back from the table in my private chamber, my hands curling into fists. My claws threatened to break through the skin, and it took effort to keep them retracted. The council had gathered again. I didn’t need to be told; I felt the weight of their words on the air, carried by the tension that rippled across every wolf in the pack.
And threaded through it, faint but steady, was her.
Her heartbeat. Her breath. The scent of her fear, sharp and bitter, seeping across the bond like smoke through cracks.
I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly. Stay calm, Jaden.
But calm had never been easy for me—not since the curse took root, not since the first time the shadows coiled around my ribs and refused to let go. My wolf prowled just beneath the surface, furious and restless. It knew she was afraid. It wanted to tear down every door, rip apart every throat that dared whisper her name with suspicion.
“Not yet,” I muttered aloud, voice rough.
The wolf pressed harder, its fire burning at the edges of my control. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to move. Sitting still only fed the rage.
I paced to the window and flung it open. Cold night air rushed in, carrying the faintest scent of ash and pine, but it wasn’t enough to steady me. The smell of her fear lingered stronger than the mountain air.
Then—voices. Muffled, but my hearing was too sharp to miss them.
“…the mark spreads. She’s dangerous.”
“…bonded to him, whether she admits it or not.”
“…the council must act.”
A low growl rumbled from my chest before I could stop it. My claws slid free, gouging deep scratches into the wooden frame of the window.
They were talking about her. Already deciding her fate. Already putting her in the same chains they had tried to wrap around me.
I forced myself back from the window, pacing. Memories surged unbidden.
The first time the council called me cursed. The night I lost control, fire tearing through the training grounds, leaving three wolves burned and scarred. The way they looked at me afterward—as if I weren’t their Alpha but a sickness waiting to spread.
And now they looked at her the same way.
The bond pulsed.
Thalia.
I stilled, one hand braced against the wall. For a moment, I let myself sink into it. Her presence brushed against me—uneasy, trembling, yet stubbornly unbroken. She was listening too, then. She had heard them.
And she was hurting.
Something inside me snapped.
I had sworn to myself I would not drag her deeper into this bond, that I would give her the space to breathe, to choose. But space didn’t matter if the council moved first. If they branded her cursed, there would be no choice left.
My wolf pressed against my skin, demanding release. Protect. Claim. Destroy.
“No.” My voice shook with the effort of control. “Not like this.”
I dug my claws into my palms until blood welled, the sharp sting anchoring me. If I gave in now, if I let the fire surge unchecked, they’d only prove themselves right. Cursed. Dangerous. A monster.
But doing nothing wasn’t an option either.
I paced again, every muscle tight, every breath a battle. My wolf growled in frustration, but I forced myself to think. Strategy had always been the one weapon left to me, sharper than any fang or claw.
The council wouldn’t move openly, not yet. They’d circle their decision like vultures around a carcass, waiting until the pack’s whispers grew loud enough to shield them from blame. That gave me time. Not much, but some.
The question was—how to use it.
I could pull her into the bond again, shield her in the only way I knew how. But every time I touched her mind, I risked tightening the tether that already strangled us both. And the more I drew her in, the more the curse seeped into her. I had seen the mark on her skin, felt the shadows spreading.
No. I wouldn’t endanger her that way.
I turned back to the window, fists clenched. There was only one choice left.
I had to face them.
The thought was bitter, but my wolf surged with approval. Confronting the Elders head-on meant danger—exposure. It meant showing the cracks in my control, letting them see how close the fire licked beneath my skin. But it also meant reminding them whose pack this truly was.
I couldn’t let them circle her like prey.
My heart pounded harder, syncing with hers through the bond. Whether she knew it or not, she fueled me. Every beat of her heart was a reminder: she was still here. Still mine to protect.
I crossed the chamber, tearing the door open. The guards stationed outside startled, their eyes widening as they caught the flicker of fire in mine. They bowed quickly, but I saw the fear there too.
Let them fear.
I stalked down the corridor, the scent of torch smoke curling around me. With every step, the voices of the council grew louder, sharper.
“…we must decide soon.”
“…before it’s too late.”
“…for the safety of the pack.”
My wolf growled again, deep and resonant, and I didn’t bother to silence it this time. Let them hear it. Let them know I was coming.
I reached the heavy doors of the council chamber, my claws flexing at my sides. For a moment, I stood still, breathing hard, the fire beneath my skin threatening to break free.
If you open these doors, there’s no turning back.
I already knew that. But I also knew something else—if I did nothing, they would take her from me. Strip her away piece by piece until nothing remained but ashes.
I pressed my hand against the wood, the heat of my palm searing into it.
And then I pushed.
The doors groaned open, spilling torchlight across my face.
Every Elder inside turned toward me, their voices cutting off mid-sentence. Silence fell again, heavy and brittle, as their eyes locked onto mine.
I didn’t speak yet. I didn’t need to. The fire burning in my gaze said enough.