Chapter Thirty Two
Talia looked so small wrapped in all of those blankets. Her ash blonde hair was neatly braided away from her face to keep it from the shallow cuts. Bruises littered her body, her eyes, her cheeks, her neck, in a brutal mosaic of yellows, greens and purples.
The cuts had stitched together, the bruises had faded, the silver burns stretched over fragile skin. But underneath, there were scars that would never heal quite right.
She was recovering, slowly, but her strength was still ice thin as the first winds of winter.
"I'm not leaving you with them," Talia murmured, her voice shaky from underneath the layers. Her lips were set in a determined line but her eyes shifted.
I knelt beside the bed, fingers laced together and resting next to her.
"You're not," I insisted, my eyebrows pinched together. "You're going home to take care of them and most importantly, yourself. Not just for you, for both of us."
Talia's lip quivered, her jaw tense and tight even as when she fought through the wince. "Don't send me away like I'm broken. I can still help. I'm supposed to finish this with you."
I sighed, the resolve inside softening with the pain that cracked her voice. "You're not broken. It takes strength to survive what you did and still care enough to fight. But you need rest. You deserve rest. And you can't get it in a pit of vipers."
Her amber eyes watered, tears welling up as she shook her head. "No. I'm not leaving you alone."
I reached out, my hand resting gingerly on hers. Her knuckles were still dry and cracked. "I've been alone before."
"Not like this."
I swallowed hard past the growing lump in my throat. It was thick and sticky, trying to steal the words from my lips.
"Please go home," I whispered, pressing my cheek against hers like our wolves would have done. "Rest. Be safe. Let me do this for you."
Talia's breath was shaky as I pulled back. She said nothing and her silence said more than she ever could.
I felt it settle between us like truth. She was leaving.
It was what she needed. It was what I wanted.
And still, the thought of facing it without her dug the blackened hole in my chest impossibly deeper.
She was gone.
And I had to stand in front of the Council like the grief wasn't clawing at my ribs. Like I couldn't feel the fingerprints of guilt pressing against my throat.
The chamber was packed, every seat filled even as the shadows darkened the rows in the back.
Just like my first day, I wasn't awarded a seat. I stood in the centre underneath the blinding lights, the amphitheatre of rows marked with intruding eyes that stared down at me.
They looked at me like I'd crack under pressure. Like I hadn't already held the weight of worse.
I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
I stood, back straight and chin held high, daring them to challenge me.
This was no time for proud silence. Talia had been in danger and I would defend my decision to my grave.
Silent. Still.
They expected icy fury. They wanted cold rage.
I gave them composure.
"Let the record show," Alpha Hendrix announced, thick brows dropped low over his eyes as he watched me. "That Chief Designate Brione of the Northern Circle knowingly defied Council directives. Her actions, while personally motivated, were politically reckless. She acted alone-"
"Not alone."
Lucien reclined in his seat, his feet kicked up on the gallery railing in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His grin was smug and unbothered, the exact expression guaranteed to infuriate them.
"And you aided in this defiance?" Alpha de Silva asked, left eye nearly twitching as he forced the calm into his voice.
"And I'd do it again."
Disapproval rippled through the room. Lucien looked unbothered, almost amused.
I ignored it.
"This behaviour isn't just impulsive. It's dangerous," de Silva announced, forcing his commanding charm. "We cannot continue to allow such blatant and reckless disobedience. If this continues, the Council will need to reconsider its tolerance."
I fought back the scoff and forced a straight face. Their definition of tolerance was laughable.
"She's proven herself unwilling to submit to regulation," another Alpha spoke. "If she's staying on Council lands, we need assurance of her safety and compliance."
The solution was left unsaid and yet permeated the air like rotting meat.
The collar.
My neck itched at the memory. The pinch, the stiffness, the slow, burning pain.
I didn't flinch. I didn't drop my gaze. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction when I knew all they were looking for was fear.
"Silver would not stop me from doing what's right," I said, voice even and measured.
Tension pulled like a current, waves crashing through the room. A few murmured in agreement, most grumbled in disapproval.
The chair scraped against the floor, a shrieking echo that pulled the room to a halt.
Dax rose slowly from his seat, the aura of dominance radiating from him as his amber eyes glazed over the room. Every inch of him radiated barely held restraint. His eyes were firm, jaw set, voice calm.
"That's enough."
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The silence that followed was proof.
"She didn't disobey because she's dangerous. She did it because she had to," Dax said, his level voice carrying with a shuddering authority. "Because the Council failed to protect, failed to step up and help. You were too busy sitting around and debating optics to act."
The words hit like cold water. Sharp, precise.
Alpha de Silva bristled. "Alpha Varyn, I understand your sympathies, however-"
"She's not some political pawn," Dax cut in, voice firmer now. "You want to collar her because she makes you look weak."
Lyra's smile was shaky and tight as she brushed her hand against Dax's arm. "Dax," she said gently, sweet and placating. "Let's just think. This isn't the right way to do this."
He looked down at her, his eyes scanning her face and in that moment, something snapped.
"Maybe it's not," he said, hand brushing hers away with a polite subtlety. "But I've done this your way. I've sat in silence while she was blamed and controlled."
Lyra straightened in her seat, her eyes hardening with an unspoken demand. "Don't make this about her."
Dax shook his head. "This isn't just about her.
If it had been one of my wolves, I would have done the same as Chief Designate Brione.
And if standing beside your people in moments like these isn't something you're willing to do, Lyra, then I can't, in good conscience, go through with this engagement. "
She blinked at him, smile frozen in a grimace. "So that's it then?"
"This engagement was political, the best decision for my pack," Dax answered, face set. "If you'd condemn this, you're not what's best for my pack. So this agreement is over."
Gasps scattered through the chamber like scattered glass.
Lyra didn't move.
I didn't move.
There was no flicker of icy power, no raised voices or need for threats. I didn't need them, there was nothing to prove.
Dax had just done it for me.
The Council started to scatter and I took the chance to flee, to try and escape the way my racing heart tugged towards him.
It was not the right time. Not when the Council was still spinning from Dax's stand, not when my heart was still aching for Talia.
The balcony was secluded, away from the bustle of the Council rooms and the inevitable arguments breaking out.
I felt him before I saw him.
Dax leaned against the balcony next to me, hands braced on the wood, knuckles white, looking into the wind like it might have answers he didn't.
I could feel the tension vibrating from him.
We stood in silence, watching the gentle sway of the forest in the distance.
"You didn't have to do that," I said softly, breaking the gentle quiet between us.
"I did," Dax answered, eyes fixed on. "I should have done it a long time ago. I kept telling myself that peace mattered more."
"It still does."
Everything had been done for peace only for the inner turmoil to make me question whether peace would ever truly come.
It had to.
All of this had to be for something.
He finally turned to look at me, his eyes a deep chocolate, full of emotions I couldn't name. Or maybe I didn't want to.
"But so do you."
My heart fluttered. My stomach twisted in a strange way I wasn't used to. It was almost pleasant, almost exciting. I felt a small part of me melt at the words.
"Do you think we can do this?" Dax asked, that once firm, steady voice now wavering slightly.
I nodded, my body swaying towards him but not quite touching. "I think so. I think it will hurt. But I think you knew that when you stood up for me."
Dax's clenched hand relaxed and slid across the wood until his fingers brushed against mine.
"I didn't stand up for you," he said as the warm tingles spread up my arm. "I stood with you."
For the first time since Talia had disappeared, it felt like things might be okay.
Double update! Had to make up for my weekend away.
So much is happening now. Talia leaving, Dax breaking off the engagement.
Did Dax's moment surprise you or were you waiting for him to break the silence?
Things are starting to come to a close but get ready, there is so much more left to come in the last 8 chapters!