Chapter 64
Feray
With the rising moon, the children of the night sing.
As the sun dips below the horizon and surrenders to the night, I feel the shift in the air—subtle, like a whisper carrying secrets across the wind.
My people are close, within howling distance, and the sensation hums beneath my skin like electricity, a connection thrumming through the bond we share.
I step away from the sleuth, my bare feet sinking into the grass still warm from the day's heat. I tilt my head, straining my senses as far as they can reach, stretching for any sign of them in the gathering darkness.
Khal is off at his job, too far from here to feel through the bond. Diaval and Easton remain at the house, calm for the most part, handling their business like no time has passed. But it's the feeling of my pack drawing nearer that makes my heart swell until it feels too large for my chest.
The edges of my vision blur as tears prick at my eyes, my breath hitching with the weight of relief and fear intertwined.
"They're almost here," I whisper to myself, the words soft and trembling. It's only been a few days of travel, but it feels like an eternity since we were last together. Now they're so close I can almost taste their scents on the wind—pine and snow and the wild places of the North.
Without hesitation, I shift, fur rippling across my skin as I drop to all fours. My wolf takes over, the instinctive need to call to them burning in my throat like fire. I throw my head back, and my howl breaks the stillness of the night, soaring high and clear across the darkening sky.
It's more than just a welcome—it's a song of warning, of the bear sleuth that awaits them. Every note is rich with information, carrying my words across the distance: Prepare. Be cautious. But come.
Drawing in a deeper breath, I howl again, this time softer, soothing their concern. I tell them to move silently, not to answer, but to make it here safely. I know some of them walk on two legs while others travel in their shifted forms, but they'll understand my message, my urgency.
When my song fades into the night, I shift back into my human form, chest heaving from the rush of it all.
Without thinking, I dive into Torben's waiting arms, burying my face against his broad chest as the tears I've been holding back finally spill free.
I can't stop the sobs that break from me—not when the fear I've been carrying for them, my people, finally cracks wide open.
Against all odds, they've made it here.
They're safe.
Several hours pass, and the forest has grown quiet except for the faint rustling of leaves and pine needles under the wind.
The silence feels heavy, expectant, like the world itself is holding its breath.
I strain my ears, waiting. Then, faint but unmistakable, I hear them—the steady beat of paws approaching, rustling through the underbrush like ghosts emerging from the shadows.
"They've arrived." My voice is soft but carries an edge of anticipation as I glance back at Torben's family. They stand a few paces behind, stiff and alert, their unease palpable in the tension of their shoulders and the way their eyes never stop scanning the tree line.
"Other than my mate, they've never met bears before," I explain, my gaze sweeping over them. "Except polar bears, and those couldn't shift like you can. They're nervous—none of them have ever left the Arctic."
Mila nods, her expression calm but cautious. "Only the six of us will remain." She motions to her mate and their four children, all standing in a line like sentinels watching the trees.
"Thank you for understanding." I lower my head slightly in respect, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on all of us.
As I move closer to the edge of the woods, the thick scent of pine fills my lungs.
I catch the first glimpse of a wolf slipping through the trees—Dorian.
His coat is a rich timber, speckled with white patches that blend almost seamlessly into the landscape.
His presence brings a wave of relief, the tether between us thrumming with energy.
I smile at him, feeling the connection flare briefly, then turn to lead the pack through the sleuth's territory toward the barn. The scent of damp earth and cold air clings to the wolves as they follow in silence, their steps sure but weary from the long journey.
Dorian stays close, updating me on their travels—run-ins with other shifters, minor skirmishes, nothing too dangerous but enough to make them wary and watchful. He's grateful for the lessons I've taught them, how to recognize the signs of other species, how to move unseen through hostile territory.
Torben steps forward, showing them the trunks of clothes and the showers set up in the back of the barn. It's a space large enough to house most of the pack, though the ten closest to me will stay nearby, about thirty yards from our cabin where they can respond in seconds if needed.
The wolves pass us, shifting back into human form, their fur disappearing as their bare feet crunch softly on the cold ground.
I greet each of them with a brush of my cheek against theirs, the simple touch grounding me in the moment.
With each one that passes, my smile grows broader, my chest swelling with a pride I've never known before.
"There's that smile," Torben murmurs, pulling me gently away from the barn as the others settle in.
"I feel better now, seeing them safe." I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my face into his chest, inhaling the scent of him—earthy and familiar, calming in ways I can't explain.
"This is what you were missing all along," he whispers, kissing the top of my head. "We told you that you needed a pack to feel whole."
Before I can respond, Aleksei steps out of the shadows, his sharp eyes catching the glint of moonlight. "That's the most wolves I've ever seen in one place," he remarks, tilting his head as he glances at the barn doors.
Pride surges through me, and I stand a little taller. "I left many more behind. They will come when I call for them." A laugh bubbles up, surprising even me with its fierce edge. "All the wolves will come when I call them. Even the ones in Blackmore—when the time arises."
I tilt my head back, letting the moonlight wash over me, its glow cool and soothing against my skin. I close my eyes and reach out through the bond, touching Alec and Jurian, letting them know everyone arrived safely. Their joy floods through me like the warm pulse of the moon itself.
When I lower my head, I find Aleksei watching me with wide eyes, his curiosity plain on his weathered face. "It felt like you brushed past me, but you never moved. What did you do?"
A faint glow dances in my vision as my eyes shift to the ice-blue of my wolf. "I reached out to my betas, let them know the others are safe."
I draw a deep breath, feeling the weight of the night and the responsibility that comes with it settling over my shoulders like a mantle.
"The others are ready to meet you, as the alpha of your people.
" I glance between Torben and Aleksei, unsure who truly holds the title here.
Is Torben the rightful heir? Or does his father still stand as leader?
Aleksei smiles broadly, pride shining in his eyes. "My eldest son has proven himself ready to step up, if he wants it."
Torben lowers his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.
"As much as I've always wanted that mantle, Elijah deserves it more.
My place is at my mate's side, and I'll be between both homes.
I can't give the sleuth the attention they need.
" His voice is steady, resolved, as he extends his hand toward his father.
"This is what makes you the best candidate," Aleksei replies, grasping his son's hand.
"I appreciate your honesty and foresight.
" The air feels thick with change as Aleksei pulls out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly as he texts Elijah to join us.
The night deepens around us, and I feel the weight of everything shifting—roles, alliances, destinies intertwining in ways none of us can fully predict.
And somewhere beneath it all, the pull of the future waits just out of reach, dark and patient.
Elijah arrives just as the moon slips higher into the sky, casting long shadows across the clearing that seem to reach for us with grasping fingers. His father pulls him aside, whispering quickly, filling him in on the situation while I keep my post at the doorframe, standing watch over my people.
His face flickers with emotion—confusion, concern, maybe even hesitation—before he finally steels himself and walks toward us with the determined stride of someone about to step into the unknown.
He greets Torben first, reaching out to shake hands.
Torben lowers his head, speaking in a tone meant only for his brother, his expression guarded.
In the quiet moment that follows, I reach beneath my hair, pulling a small section forward.
My fingers work quickly, weaving it into a tight braid, the familiar motion grounding me in the present.
I secure the braid with several hairbands before cutting it free from my scalp, holding the vibrant red strands in my hand.
The moonlight catches the crimson hues, revealing copper and gold highlights that shift with each movement like flames frozen in time.
For a moment, I just stare at it, feeling the weight of what it symbolizes—trust, alliance, blood.
"Feray?" Elijah's voice is soft, hesitant as he steps closer.
I turn to him, holding the braid out. "I offer you a braid of my hair as a sign of our bond and the strength of our alliance."