Chapter 34 Theo
THIRTY-FOUR
THEO
Theo shifted.
The transformation was fast—faster than usual, fueled by adrenaline and the primal need to protect. One moment, he was a man; the next, a massive gray wolf stood in his place, easily the size of a small horse, muscles bunched and ready beneath thick fur.
He positioned himself between Avine and the Matrix, drawing on every shred of pack magic he could reach. The barrier he erected was invisible to the eye but solid as stone—layers of protective energy woven from generations of wolf instinct and alpha strength.
The Matrix screamed.
Energy lashed out, slamming into his barrier with enough force to make him stagger. Pain flared along his nerves—not physical, but magical, the Matrix trying to tear through his defenses to reach the ley lines beyond. He dug his claws into the workshop floor and held.
Behind him, Avine raised her hands.
Even in wolf form, he could feel her magic rising. It was different from his—oceanic, vast, tasting of the eternal patience of the tide. She reached toward the Matrix, and her power followed, fingers of blue-green light extending toward the spinning rings.
“The sigils,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone. “They’re layered wrong. The grammar’s all tangled. If I can pull at the threads—”
The Matrix fought. A surge of raw energy slammed through Theo’s barrier, making him howl as it burned across his awareness. He held. Barely.
Avine’s magic touched the first sigil. The ring shuddered. Sparks flew.
“Got you,” she breathed. Her fingers moved in the air, pulling at threads of power only she could see. “There’s a pattern. Piprick’s work is layered over older magic—much older. I can feel where they don’t match.”
Another surge. Theo felt his barrier crack. He reinforced it desperately, pouring in more of himself, more of his pack’s strength. His vision blurred. His muscles screamed. Blood dripped from his muzzle—he could taste copper on his tongue.
The Matrix was hungry. It wanted everything—the ley lines, the ward anchors, him. It battered his defenses like a living thing, searching for weaknesses, probing for cracks.
Hold. Hold for her.
Avine was working faster, her hands dancing, her magic threading through the Matrix’s tangled structure. One sigil went dark. Then another. The spinning rings began to slow.
“Almost,” she gasped. “Almost there. A few more—”
The Matrix made a sound like tearing metal. The remaining sigils flared brilliant white.
And then it fought with everything it had.
Power exploded outward. Theo’s barrier shattered. The force of it threw him sideways, slamming him into a shelf of components that collapsed in a cascade of metal and glass. He shifted back to human involuntarily, the change ripping through him, leaving him gasping and bleeding on the floor.
“Avine!” He struggled to rise, vision swimming. She was still standing—barely—her own power forming a shield around her. But the Matrix was reforming, the sigils rekindling, feeding hungrily on the ley lines.
They weren’t going to make it. The Matrix was too strong. They needed more power.
“Avine.” He pushed to his feet, ignoring the blood running down his arm. “Let go. Stop holding back.”
Her eyes met his across the chaos. Fear there, and exhaustion, and—
“I could lose control. I could—”
“You won’t.” He stumbled toward her, reaching for her hand. Their fingers locked. “I’ve got you. Whatever you are, whatever power you’ve been hiding—I’m not afraid of it. Let go, Avine. Trust me.”
Her expression shifted. The fear didn’t vanish, but resolve rose to meet it—determination, trust, love.
She let go.
Power erupted from her—vast, oceanic, terrifying in its scope.
Sea magic poured through her in waves, filling the workshop with salt-bright light.
It wasn’t controlled. It wasn’t careful.
It was raw and wild and ancient, the fury of storms and the patience of tides and the crushing weight of depths no human had ever seen.
Theo held on. Their hands locked, his strength grounding her as her power spiraled outward. Wolf and witch, working as one.
Mate. His wolf sang the word. Claim her. Make her ours.
Later. He forced the instinct down. First, we survive.
Avine’s power crashed into the Matrix like a tidal wave.
The sigils didn’t go dark—they dissolved. The rings didn’t stop spinning—they flew apart, scattering across the workshop in pieces. The magical construct that had threatened half the Old Wards District came apart at the seams, unraveled by a force it had never been built to withstand.
Light. Sound. A shockwave of released energy that blew out every window in the building.
Then silence.
Theo’s ears rang.
He was on his knees somehow, covered in dust and debris, blood still dripping from a gash on his arm. The workshop around them was destroyed—shelves collapsed, inventions scattered, the remnants of the Protection Matrix smoking in scattered pieces.
Somewhere behind him, Piprick sobbed. Great, hiccupping sobs of devastation and guilt. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant—I was only trying to help—”
Theo couldn’t focus on that. Could only focus on one thing.
Avine was standing. Barely. Her face was pale, her nose bleeding, her whole body swaying. But she was alive. She was alive.
He reached her in two strides, catching her before she could fall.
“Hey. Hey.” His hands were shaking as he cradled her face, wiping blood from her upper lip with his thumb. “Stay with me. Don’t you dare—”
“I’m okay.” Her voice was hoarse, exhausted. “I’m okay, Theo. We did it.”
“You did it. That was—” He didn’t have words. “That was incredible.”
“That was terrifying.” A shaky laugh escaped her. “I’ve never felt anything like that. It was like—like the ocean was inside me. All of it. Every wave and current and—” She broke off, her gaze finding his. “You held on.”
“Of course, I held on.”
“Your barrier. The energy was—you must have been in so much pain—”
“Worth it.” He meant it. Every ounce of pain, every crack in his defenses—worth it for her. Worth it to see her standing here, alive, victorious. “I’d do it again. A hundred times. A thousand.”
“Theo—”
“I know.” His voice cracked. “I know we said we’d talk after. I know this isn’t the time. But I almost lost you twice now, and I can’t—I won’t—keep pretending I don’t feel what I feel.”
“What are you saying?” Her breath caught.
“I love you.” The words came out raw, unpolished, nothing like the careful confession he’d planned. “I’ve been trying not to. I’ve been telling myself it’s too fast, too complicated, that I don’t have room in my life for—” He broke off, laughing helplessly. “But I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers trembling.
“You walked into my town and turned everything upside down. I love your sharp edges. I love your strength. I love that you challenge me, that you don’t roll over when I growl.
I love that you see me—not the Alpha, not the CEO, not the man everyone depends on. Me.”
He had to stop. Had to breathe. The words were coming too fast, too raw, but he couldn’t stop them.
“I love that you don’t need me to save you but let me try anyway. I love that you’re scared and you do brave things anyway. I love that you’re rebuilding yourself and letting me watch. I love—” His voice broke completely. “I love you.”
Tears tracked down her cheeks. Not sad tears—wonder, relief, joy.
“I love you too.” Her voice broke on the words. “And you look at me like—like I am worth seeing. Like everything I’d been hiding was exactly what you wanted to find. You make me feel brave enough to be myself again.”
“You are.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You are. I’m done hiding too. I need you. I want you. I—”
She kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle. Wasn’t careful. It was fierce and desperate and tasted like tears and blood and magic. Her hands fisted in his ruined shirt. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her so close he could feel her heartbeat against his body.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Avine was crying and laughing at the same time. Theo felt moisture on his own face.
“Well.” Her voice was thick. “That was dramatic.”
“The explosion or the love confession?”
“Both. Everything.” She smiled—that slow, private smile that was only for him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Neither am I.”
He pulled her close again, holding her in the middle of the ruined workshop, breathing in the scent of sea salt, smoke, and her.
“Uh,” Piprick started, “does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“So.”
Beck’s voice came from what used to be the doorway—now a ragged hole in the wall. He stood there with fur still rippling across his shoulders, clearly having shifted mid-sprint, wearing an expression of profound amusement.
Behind him, Theo could see Dahlia and Cassia, both breathless from running. Junie pushed past them, her red hair wild, Glimmer the snake coiled anxiously around her neck.
“We felt the surge from Main Street.” Dahlia’s eyes swept over the destruction. “Is everyone—oh.” Her gaze landed on Theo and Avine, still wrapped around each other, and her expression softened into knowing. “Oh, I see.”
“I’m guessing this is resolved?” Beck asked, grinning.
Theo didn’t let go of Avine. “Yeah. It’s resolved.”
Beck’s attention flicked between them—the way they were holding each other, the kiss-swollen lips, the unmistakable evidence of confessions made—and his grin widened.
“You owe me fifty bucks.” He was talking to someone behind him. Junie’s voice drifted in: “The bet was ‘during the explosion,’ not ‘after.’ Technically, I win.”
Avine huffed a laugh against Theo’s shoulder. “They had a betting pool.”
“Of course, they did.”
“Later.” He kissed her forehead. “Right now, I’m taking you home.”
Beck caught his eye and nodded, already taking charge of the cleanup. “I’ve got this. Get her out of here.”
Theo led Avine out of the ruins, into the morning light. The sun had climbed higher while they’d been inside, painting the cobblestone streets in shades of gold. A seagull watched from a nearby rooftop—probably already composing its report to the gossip network.
He didn’t care. Let them talk. Let the whole damn town know.
Her hand in his. Her presence at his side. That was all he needed.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, Theo Vance felt like he might actually get what he wanted.