Back in Northwood Pack.

Ronan’s chest rose and fell like a man drowning on dry land. His vision blurred, his claws dug into his chest as if he could tear out the pain itself. His wolf roared inside him, howling in agony that bled through every inch of his being.

Matthew’s voice cut through the haze via the mind-link. “Ronan? Is it her?”

Ronan’s lips barely moved. “Yes.”

That single word froze the blood in Matthew’s veins.

Draven, across the room, didn’t understand the sudden silence. He leaned forward on the couch, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with him?”

Matthew didn’t answer, but his golden eyes glinted with warning.

Draven turned away and mindlinked Cierce instead. “Arrange for people to take Elara to dungeon the moment she returns. I want her brought here. She’s not leaving my sight again.”

Cierce’s nails dug into the chair’s armrest until wood splintered under her grip. “You’ve gone too far, Draven! That filthy halfling—”

Her words died as an overwhelming aura slammed into the mansion like a tidal wave. The chandelier above shattered, and every window imploded inward. Cierce was thrown to the floor, gasping as the pressure suffocated her. Even Matthew staggered, his knees almost buckling.

Ronan’s power tore through the air, thick and violent. The walls cracked as his roar echoed across Everton territory. Matthew steadied himself, eyes glowing faint gold. “He’s lost control.”

Then Ronan’s voice boomed through the mind-link, raw and unfiltered. “I’m bringing my mate home.”

Matthew stiffened. The words were final. Deadly.

He straightened, turned toward Draven, and muttered, “Seems you’ve irritated the Lycan King.”

Draven’s face paled. “I—”

“The proposal about us sending warriors is on hold,” Matthew continued coldly. He then turned to Cierce. “And until you put a proper leash on your bitch, you won’t hear from us again.”

Cierce’s jaw locked, her teeth grinding. Draven bowed his head, fists trembling. “Understood, Alpha.”

Matthew didn’t spare another glance. He barked an order. “Pack up. We’re heading back to the palace, now.”

–––

Ronan sprinted through the dense forest, bare feet shredding leaves and earth beneath him. His breath came out ragged, clouding in the night air. Every muscle screamed, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t feel her. The bond, the faint hum that tethered his soul was fading. No. Not her. Not now.

His wolf snarled inside him, pushing his body to the brink. The night air carried the faint metallic scent of blood. His pupils dilated. He recognized it instantly.

“Elara…”

Then came the scream. A sound that ripped through the forest and gutted him from within. He didn’t think. He shifted.

Bones cracked, fur burst through skin, and in a heartbeat, a colossal Lycan with molten gold eyes stormed through the trees. Branches snapped under his weight as he charged toward the sound. When he burst into the clearing, the world froze.

There, lying limp amidst a pool of dark, shimmering blood was Elara.

The beast inside him howled so loud the ground trembled. He shifted back mid-stride, skin splitting and reforming until he was human again. He stumbled toward her, falling to his knees beside her body.

“No, no, no…” His hands shook violently as he lifted her into his arms. Her head lolled back, her once-bright eyes were now dull and empty.

“Elara.” His voice cracked. “Please.” He pressed his ear to her chest, desperate for even a whisper of life. Nothing. Only silence. Tears blurred his sight. “You can’t do this. You can’t leave me.”

But the bond was gone. Something inside him shattered. His bones snapped again as his wolf surged forward, half-shifting, half-human, consumed by anguish. The forest itself seemed to tremble beneath his grief. “You cursed me!” he roared at the sky. “You made me feel her pain! And now you let her die?!” His voice broke. “Why, Moon Goddess?! Why her?!”

Matthew’s voice intruded through the chaos. “Ronan! We’ve summoned the palace doctor. Bring her back now!”

Ronan didn’t answer. He simply gathered Elara’s body into his arms and took off.

He ran until the trees blurred into streaks of color. His lungs burned, his heart cracked with every step.

When the palace came into view, guards and servants rushed out, startled by the king’s arrival. Queen Arwen stepped forward, her face pale. “Ronan…”

He didn’t look at her. “No one comes to my chambers unless I summon them.” His voice was low, broken.

The palace doctor and a witch ran to him, bowing hurriedly. “Your Majesty, her wounds…”

“Fix her.”

“Not here,” the witch interrupted, her eyes darting to Elara’s body. “We need the Luna Rock beneath the castle. It holds the Moon’s purest energy.”

“Then let’s go!” Ronan said, his tone dark as thunder.

–––

The Luna Rock chamber glowed faintly blue, runes carved into the stone walls. The massive crystal bed in the center pulsed like a living heart.

Ronan laid Elara gently on it, brushing the hair from her pale face. Every bruise on her body tore at him like blades.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, I’ll need you to…”

“No,” Ronan cut in, his voice hard. “I stay.”

The witch raised her staff, chanting under her breath. A circle of silver light expanded beneath Elara’s body. Suddenly, the air grew colder. Seven more witches materialized, cloaked in colors of the moon. The lead witch, her staff gleaming with lunar energy, frowned. “This girl… she is not a full-blooded wolf.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care. Heal her.”

“She’s part witch,” the lead witch continued, “and something darker. But this bite-” she gestured to Elara’s neck, “-is from a vampire.”

Ronan’s eyes snapped open in disbelief. “Impossible. They wouldn’t dare cross-” He stopped himself, growling. “Fix her. Now.”

The witches obeyed.

Crystals around the Luna Rock flared, bathing the room in blinding light. The chant rose, ancient and melodic, echoing off the stone walls.

Ronan stood frozen as Elara’s body began to glow. Blood seeped from the bite mark, running down her neck.

“Stop!” he barked. “You’re hurting her!”

But the barrier had already formed a translucent dome that kept him out. His claws slashed at it to no avail. Sparks danced where he struck, but it held firm. Elara’s body lifted from the rock, suspended midair. Her wounds closed one by one, bones snapping back into place. The sound echoed sickeningly.

Ronan’s chest tightened. “Elara!”

The head witch’s eyes rolled white as she pushed harder, channeling the Moon’s energy. “We’re almost there!” The crystals flickered. The air turned violent. Energy lashed through the chamber like lightning. The head witch coughed blood but refused to stop. “Hold the chant!”

The other witches linked hands, their robes whipping violently in the energy storm. Cracks ran through the crystals, one after another.

Ronan’s fury boiled over. “You’ll kill her!”

Elara’s body convulsed her hair shifting color until it turned a radiant silver. A strange tattoo burned into her arm, glowing briefly before fading.

Then, with a deafening shatter, every crystal exploded. The shockwave flung the witches backward.

Ronan leaped forward, catching Elara before her body hit the rock. He held her tightly, pressing her against his chest.

Her skin was cold. Too cold.

He turned to the witches, his eyes glowing molten gold. “What did you do to her?!”

The head witch wiped blood from her mouth. “We flushed out the vampire venom. It had already reached her heart. That’s why the crystals broke.”

Ronan’s breathing quickened. “And now?”

Her voice softened. “Her body is whole. But whether she wakes… that is her choice. Her soul is hiding. She’s afraid of being broken again.”

Ronan sank to his knees, Elara cradled in his arms. The ground beneath him trembled with his grief.

All around them, witches collapsed from exhaustion and Ronan’s overwhelming power. Even the guards outside the chamber fell under the crushing weight.

Ronan brushed a strand of silver hair from her face. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, just wake up. I’m sorry for not finding you earlier.”

Silence answered him.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “You’re mine, Elara. I haven’t even had the chance to tell you that. Don’t leave me now.”

A single tear slid down her cheek.

Ronan froze.

Then his hand clenched into a fist. His eyes darkened with fury. He mind linked Matthew, his voice low and deadly. “Ready the troops.”

Matthew hesitated. “Your Majesty…”

“We’re going to Northwood Pack,” Ronan growled. “They’ll pay for what they’ve done to my mate.”

“No, you’re not going to Northwood pack. You’re staying here and looking after your mate.” Came the stern voice of the Queen.