Chapter 20 Sable
Sable
Iwoke to sunlight streaming through blurry windows and the warm weight of Trouble curled against my stomach.
For a long, disoriented moment, I couldn't remember where I was. The bed was too soft. The sheets smelled of pine and something floral. And the ache behind my eyes had dulled to a manageable throb instead of the ice pick it had been for the last few days.
The memories came flooding back. The interrogations. The glamour. Collapsing in front of Cara. Ulric's smug face. Sera's warm laugh.
And Harkan, carrying me to bed despite my protests, refusing to leave until I'd eaten something and promising to wake me if anything happened.
I reached for the bond instinctively and found him immediately—a steady pulse of alertness and concern, somewhere in the stronghold. Not close, but not far. Working, probably. Doing Alpha things while I slept the day away like some useless—
Stop that, I told myself firmly. You're not useless. You're recovering.
It didn't feel like recovering. It felt like weakness.
Trouble lifted his head, amber eyes blinking sleepily. His concern pulsed through our bond—softer than yesterday's frantic worry, but still present.
You needed rest, he seemed to say. Stop being stubborn.
"You sound like Harkan," I muttered.
He yipped once, smug and unrepentant, and stretched before hopping off the bed.
Harkan's chambers. I recognized the scent of him woven into the sheets, the familiar weight of the furs, the way the morning light fell across the bed where we'd tangled together just nights ago.
The last two days had been a blur of arriving packs, war councils, and stolen moments between preparations.
The window overlooked the courtyard, and through it, I could see wolves moving with purpose, preparing for the arrival of more packs.
The Mating Moon rose tonight.
In a matter of hours, I would face Varro again.
The thought sent ice sliding through my veins, and I shoved it down ruthlessly. I couldn't afford to spiral. Not now.
A knock at the door startled me from my thoughts.
"Come in," I called, expecting Harkan or maybe Thea to come to check on me.
Instead, Sera of Thornwood stepped through the doorway.
She looked different than she had when she'd arrived—less road-worn, her auburn hair braided neatly back from her face, her green eyes sharp and assessing. She carried a tray with tea and what looked like breakfast, and the scent of fresh bread made my traitorous stomach growl.
"Good. You're awake." Sera set the tray on the small table by the window and settled into the chair opposite like she belonged there. "Harkan wanted to bring this himself, but I convinced him you might appreciate a conversation that didn't involve him hovering."
"He does love to hover, doesn’t he?"
"Like a mother hen with one chick." Sera's smile was warm. "Always has, when it comes to people he cares about. His mother was the same way."
The mention of Elara made something twist in my chest. I sat up slowly, wincing at the residual ache in my muscles, and accepted the cup of tea Sera pressed into my hands. The first sip was bliss. Just the right amount of cream and sugar, and the caffeine was a spell all on its own.
"You knew her well," I murmured into the cup. "Harkan's mother?"
"Better than anyone except Harkan himself." Sera's gaze went distant for a moment, lost in memory. "We grew up together, Elara and I. Two stubborn she-wolves from neighboring territories who decided we'd rather be friends than rivals. Drove our fathers batshit crazy."
I tried to picture it—a young Sera, fierce and laughing, running through forests with a woman I'd never meet. I imagined her with Harkan's dark hair and amber eyes. A woman whose son now carried the weight of her legacy on his shoulders.
"What was she like?" Harkan had never mentioned his mother before, but like so many of us, I'd just assumed she was gone. Now I was dying to know anything at all about him, about his family, about his life.
Sera was quiet for a moment, considering.
"Fierce. Protective. She had this way of looking at you that made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered.
" Her lips curved. "And a temper that could strip the paint off the walls when someone she loved was threatened. Harkan gets that from her."
"Not from his father?"
The warmth in Sera's expression cooled. "The High Alpha doesn't have a temper. He has calculations. Every emotion he shows is deliberate, designed to achieve a specific result." She met my eyes. "Elara was fire. He's ice. And he spent their entire mating trying to freeze her into something useful."
"It didn't work?"
"No. She was too strong for that. Too stubborn." Sera's jaw tightened. "So he found other ways to control her. Through Harkan. Through Helene. Through the pack she loved."
My hands tightened around the teacup. "What happened to her?"
For a long moment, Sera didn't answer. When she spoke, her voice was careful, measured.
"She died protecting her children. There was a challenge—one of the High Alpha's rivals making a play for power. Elara put herself between the assassin and her pups." Her gaze met mine. "She succeeded. They lived. She didn't."
My throat constricted. "And then Helene—"
"Died the same way, a century later. Protecting her brother." Sera's laugh was bitter. "The High Alpha seems to have a talent for putting the people Harkan loves in positions where they have to die for him. It's almost impressive in its cruelty."
I thought about what Aldric had revealed. That the High Alpha had orchestrated Helene's death. That he'd killed his own daughter to break his son.
Had he done the same to Elara?
The question must have shown on my face, because Sera leaned forward, her expression intent.
"I don't know for certain," she said quietly. "I've suspected, for years. But Elara's death was ruled an assassination by enemies. Helene's was the same." She paused. "You have a gift for tasting lies, I'm told. When you meet the High Alpha—if you meet him—perhaps you'll be able to find the truth."
If I survive long enough, I thought, but didn't say.
Instead, I asked, "Why are you telling me this?"
Sera sat back, studying me with those sharp green eyes. "Because you're mated to her son. Because you carry the same fire she did—I can see it in you. And because you deserve to know what you're walking into."
"A bloody fucking trap, that's what."
"A war." Sera's voice was flat. "The High Alpha doesn't lose. He's spent centuries building his power, crushing anyone who challenged him, turning the Divide into his personal empire. Harkan is the first real threat he's faced in generations."
"Because of the pack?"
"Because of you." Sera tilted her head, considering. "You're the variable he didn't account for. A truth-taster who can see through his lies. A witch powerful enough to ward against his Devourer. A mate who gives his son something to fight for beyond simple survival."
The words should have felt like pressure—more evidence that everything was my fault, that I'd painted a target on Harkan's back simply by existing.
Instead, they felt like armor.
"He's afraid of me," I realized.
"He should be." Sera's smile showed teeth.
"I've heard the stories already, you know.
How you put Ulric in his place with a few well-chosen words.
How you held a glamour over the entire watchtower despite being half-dead on your feet.
How you look at Harkan like he's worth burning the world down for. "
She paused, something shifting in her expression. "Has he told you about his wolf?"
My brow furrowed. "His wolf? I know they're... close. That the wolf kept him alive during the century he was chained."
"But has he shown you?" Sera's gaze sharpened. "His true form?"
Something clicked into place. "His dire wolf form. I've heard the rumors, but he's never shifted in front of me."
Sera studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
"Most assume he inherited it from his father—that the High Alpha's bloodline carries the gift.
But the High Alpha is just a wolf. A powerful one, yes, but ordinary.
" Her voice softened. "Elara was the dire wolf.
One of the last of her bloodline. The High Alpha mated her for power, for the prestige of having such a rare creature as his own.
But he never expected her to pass that gift to her son instead of bowing to his control. "
My mind raced, reframing everything I thought I knew. "The High Alpha isn't a dire wolf?"
"No. And it eats him alive." Sera's smile was sharp. "His own son inherited something he can never have, no matter how much territory he conquers or how many packs he controls. Harkan is his mother's legacy—and a constant reminder of everything the High Alpha isn't."
That revelation turned over in my mind. It explained so much—the way other wolves deferred to Harkan, the raw power I felt through the bond, the sheer presence of him that seemed to fill any room he entered.
"Why hasn't he shown me?"
"Shame, perhaps. Or fear." Kindness softened her features. "The last time he shifted into his true form, he lost himself for decades. He may worry that showing you will frighten you away. Or that he'll lose control again."
"I wouldn't—"
"I know." Sera reached over and squeezed my hand. "And when the time comes, you'll show him that, too."
Warmth bloomed in my chest, fierce and unexpected. Not quite hope—hope felt too fragile. But something close to it. And then that little voice in my head stomped it down.
"I'm not her," I said softly. "I'm not a wolf. I'm not pack-born. I'm just a witch who spent too many years as someone's property."
"You're not just anything." Sera's voice was sharp. "You're a survivor. A fighter. And now you're the mate of the wolf who's going to tear down his father's empire." Her expression softened. "Elara would have been proud to call you daughter. I know Harkan is proud to call you his."
Tears pricked at my eyes—unexpected and unwanted. I blinked them back, but Sera had already seen. She reached across the table and covered my hand with hers.
"You don't have to be alone anymore, Sable. That's what pack means. We fight together. We protect each other. We don't let our own face the darkness alone."
The words hit something deep in my chest—a wound I hadn't realized was still bleeding. My mother's death. Rafe's betrayal. Thirteen years of isolation and cruelty.
I'd been alone for so long. So fucking long.
"I don't know how to do that," I admitted, my voice cracking. "Be part of something. Trust people. Let them help."
"You're learning." Sera squeezed my hand. "The fact that you're here, that you let Harkan in, that you're fighting alongside a pack instead of running—that's more than most could manage after what you've survived."
I thought about the guilt I'd been carrying. The voice that whispered poison and ash and everything you touch turns to ruin.
Maybe it was wrong. Maybe I wasn't a curse.
Maybe I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For telling me about Elara. For... this."
Sera released my hand and sat back, her smile warm. "Thank me by surviving the Mating Moon. And by making the High Alpha regret every choice that led him here."
"I'll do my best."
"I don't doubt it." She stood, brushing off her skirt. "Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold. Harkan will be insufferable if he finds out I let you starve."
I laughed—a real laugh, surprising us both. "He really does hover."
"Like I said. Mother hen." Sera paused at the door, looking back at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Your mother raised a remarkable daughter, Sable. I hope you know that."
Then she was gone, and I was alone with Trouble and a plate of food and the strange, unfamiliar feeling of being seen.
I ate slowly, processing everything Sera had told me. The tea was strong and sweet, exactly how I liked it, and I wondered if Harkan had told her or if she'd simply guessed.
Trouble hopped onto the table, sniffing at my plate, and I fed him a piece of bacon without complaint.
She was nice, he observed through our bond. I like her.
"Me too," I admitted.
Through the window, I could see more banners approaching in the distance. More packs arriving. Allies or enemies, I couldn't tell from here.
Tonight was the Mating Moon, and nothing would be the same.
But for the first time since this all began, I didn't feel like I was facing it alone.