Chapter 24 - Patrick
The healer won’t meet my eyes when I ask about Trenton.
That tells me everything I need to know.
The young wolf who volunteered for this mission despite barely being old enough to fight is lying on a table in the medical wing with his chest torn open and his chances slipping away with every passing minute.
I watched him go down during the battle.
I heard him scream. And I kept fighting because that’s what soldiers do, even when the cost of victory starts to feel too high.
Caelan stands beside me in the hallway outside the medical wing. Her hand finds mine, and I hold on tight. She’s exhausted. We both are. But there’s no time to rest. The council is waiting.
“He’s strong,” she says quietly. “He might pull through.”
“He might.” I don’t believe it, and neither does she. But we say the words anyway because hope is all we have right now.
The walk to the council chamber feels like a march to my own execution.
Jonas trails behind us with his wrists bound in front of him.
It’s a formality more than anything. He surrendered willingly, and he hasn’t tried to run.
But the allied packs don’t trust him yet, and I can’t blame them for that.
Trust has to be earned. I’m still earning mine.
The other Thornridge defectors wait in a holding area near the pack hall, twelve wolves who chose to follow us instead of fleeing with Bastian and the loyalists. Twelve wolves whose fates now rest in the hands of people who have every reason to hate them.
Oren Blacklock stands at the head of the council table when we enter the chamber. Dorian Fields occupies the seat to his right, and Matriarch Lydia Thornwick sits to his left. The three most powerful leaders in the allied territories gathered to decide what happens next.
Ash sits beside her mate with her hands folded on the table in front of her. Kira is next to Dorian, and Sera occupies the chair beside her aunt. Reeyan stands against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, looking between Jonas and me, assessing.
“Patrick Walzak,” Oren begins, “you stand before this council to speak on behalf of the Thornridge wolves who surrendered after the battle. Is that correct?”
“It is.”
“And you understand that this council has the authority to imprison or execute those wolves if we determine them to be a continued threat?”
My stomach clenches, but I keep my voice steady. “I understand.”
“Then speak.”
I step forward. Jonas remains where he is, flanked by two Grayhide guards who look ready to tear him apart at the slightest provocation.
“The wolves who surrendered today aren’t monsters,” I begin. “They’re survivors. Most of them were absorbed into Thornridge the same way Jonas and I were. Their original packs were conquered. Their families were killed or scattered. They had two choices: submit or die. They chose to live.”
“Survival doesn’t excuse the crimes committed in Mordaunt’s name,” Matriarch Lydia points out.
“No, it doesn’t. I’m not asking you to excuse anything. I’m not asking for absolution or forgiveness or a clean slate. I’m asking for a chance. A chance for these wolves to prove they can be better than what Thornridge made them. A chance to earn a place in packs that value honor over cruelty.”
Dorian asks, “And if they can’t? If they prove to be the threat we suspect they are?”
“Then you deal with them accordingly. I won’t stand in your way.”
Oren watches me for a moment, then he turns to consult with Dorian and Matriarch Lydia.
They speak quietly, but I catch fragments of the conversation.
Words like “probation” and “supervision” and “accountability.” The discussion stretches on for several minutes while I stand there trying not to fidget.
Finally, Oren looks at me again. “The council has reached a decision.”
I brace myself for the worst.
“The Thornridge defectors will be integrated into the allied packs on a probationary basis. Each wolf will be assigned to a specific territory and paired with a mentor who will vouch for their behavior. Any violation of the pack law will result in immediate imprisonment or exile. Any act of violence against allied wolves will be punishable by death.”
“Thank you,” I breathe out.
“Don’t thank us yet,” Oren warns. “This is a trial period. Three months. If any of your wolves prove untrustworthy during that time, the arrangement ends. For all of them.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” Oren gestures toward Jonas. “Your brother will be placed under Reeyan’s supervision here in Grayhide territory.
He’ll live in the packhouse, follow pack rules, and contribute to pack life like any other member.
But he won’t be allowed to leave the territory without permission, and he’ll check in with Reeyan daily. ”
I glance at Jonas. His face is blank, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. Being supervised by a stranger in enemy territory isn’t what he wanted, but it’s better than a cell. Better than death.
“Jonas.” I wait until he makes eye contact. “This is your chance. Don’t waste it.”
He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t argue, either, and right now, I’ll take that as a win.
The council moves on to discussing the placement of the other defectors.
Four will go to Ambersky, five to Grayhide, and three to Llewelyn, though Matriarch Lydia makes it clear she’s accepting them under protest. The logistics take another hour to sort out, and by the time we’re finished, my legs ache from standing and my head pounds from exhaustion.
Caelan is waiting for me outside the council chamber. She’s leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself, and she straightens when she sees me.
“How did it go?”
“They agreed to a three-month probation for all of them. They’re being given an opportunity to prove themselves.”
She nods and asks, “And Jonas?”
“He’s staying here. Reeyan will supervise him.”
“That’s good. Reeyan is fair. He’ll give Jonas a real chance.”
“I need to talk to him. Before anything else happens. I need to see where his head is.”
Caelan squeezes my arm. “I’ll wait here.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. Go. He’s your brother.”
I find Jonas in the holding room where Reeyan left him after the council meeting.
The guards stationed outside the door all step aside when I approach, though neither of them looks happy about it.
Jonas sits on a wooden bench against the far wall with his wrists still bound and his eyes fixed on the floor. He doesn’t look up when I enter.
“They’re going to cut those off,” I tell him, nodding toward the bindings. “Reeyan just needs to finalize the paperwork.”
“Great,” he grumbles with a grunt. “Then I can be a prisoner without the visual reminder.”
I pull a chair from the corner and position it across from him before sitting down. The distance between us feels like miles instead of feet. “You’re not a prisoner, Jonas. You heard what Oren said. They’re giving you probation. A chance to prove yourself.”
“A chance to prove myself to people who spent the last decade trying to kill us.” He finally looks up, and the anger in his eyes is scorching.
“Do you have any idea how insane this is? Two weeks ago, these wolves were the enemy. Now I’m supposed to live with them, follow their rules, and pretend like everything is fine? ”
“They’re giving you a chance to start over.”
He scoffs and replies, “You make it sound so simple. Like I can just forget everything Thornridge taught me and become someone else overnight.”
Jonas shakes his head and looks away. He works his jaw like he’s chewing on words he doesn’t want to say. I wait him out. Sixteen years of being his brother taught me that pushing Jonas only makes him dig in deeper. He needs space to find his own way to the truth.
“You left me,” he whispers. “I woke up one morning, and you were just gone. No warning. No explanation. Bastian told me you’d been captured, that the allied packs probably killed you. I mourned you, Patrick. For weeks, I thought you were dead.”
The guilt I’ve been carrying since my defection lodges itself deeper into my chest. “I couldn’t tell you. If you knew what I was planning, you would have tried to stop me. Or worse, you would have come with me, and Bastian might have killed us both.”
“So you decided for me. Just like always.” His bound hands clench into fists. “You’ve been making decisions for me my whole life. Where I sleep, what I eat, and who I trust. You never once asked what I wanted.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what? From the truth?” He launches to his feet, and the guards outside the door visibly tense through the window.
I hold up a hand to signal that everything is under control.
Jonas doesn’t seem to notice. He’s pacing now, burning off sixteen years of questions that never got answered.
“You knew, didn’t you? About our father.
About what really happened when Thornridge took us. ”
“Yes,” I confirm.
“And you never told me. You let me walk around believing the lies they fed us. You let me worship the wolves who murdered our father.”
“You didn’t remember any of it, Jonas. What was I supposed to do?
Destroy the only stability you had? Make you live with the same nightmares I carried?
” I stand to face him, keeping my voice calm even though everything inside me wants to shout.
“I made a choice. A bad one, maybe. But I made it because I thought I was protecting you from pain you didn’t need to carry. ”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“You’re right. It wasn’t. I was wrong. I should have told you years ago. I should have trusted you to handle the truth instead of treating you like a child who needed to be shielded from the world. I’m sorry, Jonas. I’m sorry for all of it.”