Chapter 18 Sable #2
I poured everything I had into the spell. Every scrap of will. Every ounce of strength. I wove the illusion tight as spidersilk, anchored it to my own heartbeat since I had nothing else to offer, and sealed it with a word that tasted like blood on my tongue.
When I opened my eyes, the watchtower stood whole.
It wasn't perfect—if you looked too closely, the edges shimmered like heat haze, and the windows had a flatness that didn't quite match the sky's reflection. But from a distance? From the road where arriving packs would pass?
It would hold. It had to hold.
Because I'd given it everything I had left.
"Impressive," Cara murmured.
I tried to respond, but my knees buckled.
The ground rushed up to meet me, and I would have hit it face-first if Cara hadn't caught my arm. She hauled me upright, her grip bruisingly tight, her expression sharp with concern.
"You said you were fine."
"I lied." The words came out slurred. My vision was swimming, dark spots dancing at the edges. "Don't tell Harkan."
"Like hell I won't—"
"Please." I grabbed her arm, forcing myself to focus. "He's barely holding it together. If he thinks I'm hurt, he'll spiral. He can't afford to spiral right now. None of us can."
Cara stared at me for a long moment. Then she cursed, low and vicious. "You're a stubborn idiot, you know that?"
"I've been told," I said on a wilted chuckle that quickly turned into a wheezing cough.
She sighed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Fine. I won't tell him. But you're going to sit down, drink some water, and eat something before you do anything else. Understood?"
I nodded weakly. "Understood."
She helped me to a low wall, pressing me down onto the cool stone. Someone brought water—I wasn't sure who—and I drank it gratefully, letting the cold liquid soothe my raw throat.
Trouble appeared from somewhere, hopping onto my lap and pressing his small body against my stomach. His concern pulsed through our bond, a low whine of worry that he was barely suppressing.
I'm okay, I told him silently. Just tired.
He didn't believe me, and I didn't blame him.
As my vision slowly cleared, the fears I'd been holding at bay came rushing back.
We only had three days. In three days, I'd have to face Varro again. Face the man who'd owned me for over a decade. Face whatever twisted assessment the High Alpha had planned.
And what if I couldn't protect everyone? What if my wards failed? What if Varro found a way to take me back, and Harkan lost himself trying to save me?
He'd go feral again, a small voice whispered. He'd shift into his wolf and never come back. You'd destroy him just by existing.
I shoved the thought away, but it clung to the edges of my mind like smoke.
What if I was just another weapon? Another pawn to be used against the man I was starting to lo—
No. I wasn't going to finish that thought. Not yet. Not when everything was still so fragile.
"Sable."
Harkan's voice. I looked up to find him standing over me, his expression caught between concern and barely contained fury.
"Cara said you overextended yourself."
I shot Cara a betrayed look. She shrugged, utterly unapologetic.
"I said I wouldn't tell him you collapsed. I didn't say anything about the rest."
"Traitor," I muttered.
Harkan crouched in front of me, his hands coming up to cup my face. Through the bond, I felt him reaching—feeling for the truth I'd been trying to hide.
His jaw tightened.
"You're exhausted," he murmured. "You've been running on empty since the fire, haven't you?"
"I'm fine—"
"Don't." The word was soft but firm. "Don't lie to me, Sable. I can feel it now. The headache. The drain. You're barely conscious."
Tears pricked at my eyes, and I hated them. Hated that I couldn't be strong enough to hide this from him. Hated that I was one more thing he had to worry about when he was already carrying so much.
"I didn't want to add to your burden," I whispered.
Something in his expression splintered. "You're not a burden. You've never been a burden." He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing me in. "We're supposed to be doing this together, remember? That means you let me carry some of the weight, too."
"I don't know how to do that." The confession slipped out before I could stop it. "I've never had anyone who wanted to carry it with me."
"You do now." His thumbs brushed across my cheekbones, wiping away tears I hadn't realized I'd shed. "You have me. For as long as you want me."
I wanted to say something. Wanted to tell him that I was terrified—of the Mating Moon, of Varro, of being the reason he broke again. But the words stuck in my throat, too big and too raw to force out.
So I just leaned into him, letting his warmth seep into my bones.
"Come on," he murmured after a moment. "Let's get you inside. You need food and rest before—"
A horn sounded in the distance.
We both froze.
Cara was already moving, her hand on her blade, her eyes scanning the tree line beyond the stronghold walls.
"That's the perimeter signal," she said grimly. "Someone's approaching."
"The packs aren't supposed to arrive until tomorrow." Harkan was on his feet, pulling me up with him.
"They're not." Cara's expression went hard. "Which means whoever's out there isn't here for the ceremony."
Through the bond, I felt Harkan's grief transform into something colder. Sharper. The grief was still there, but it had been forged into purpose.
Into rage.
"Get Sable inside," he ordered Cara. "I'll—"
"No." I grabbed his arm. "I told you, we do this together. I'm not hiding while you face whoever's out there."
"You can barely stand."
"Then hold me up." I met his eyes, letting him see the steel beneath the exhaustion. "I'm not leaving your side. Not now. Not ever."
For a heartbeat, I thought he'd argue. Then his jaw set, and he nodded once.
"Not alone," he said quietly.
"Never again."
We turned to face whatever was coming.
And through the trees, I saw the banners of the first arriving pack—flying the sigil of the High Alpha above their own colors. A signal. A declaration of allegiance.
Not the High Alpha himself. Not yet.
But his allies were already here. And they'd arrived a full day early.