Chapter 20
GIDEON
Iwake before dawn with Clara's scent wrapped around me. Vanilla and something sharper, electric, that my wolf recognizes as mine. Her breath whispers across my collarbone where she's curled against my chest, one hand fisted in the fabric of my shirt.
Everything has shifted.
Not just the physical claiming, though that sits heavy and satisfied in my bones. The awareness of her is constant now. A frequency I can't tune out. Her heartbeat. The flutter of her pulse when she dreams. The way her magic responds to my proximity, reaching toward me even in sleep.
Before, protecting her was duty. Strategy. The right choice for the pack.
Now it's as involuntary as breathing.
I trace the curve of her shoulder, careful not to wake her.
The golden sigils that appeared during our coupling have faded, but I can still sense them beneath her skin, waiting.
Her power has grown exponentially since that first night in the library parking lot.
What started as instinctive bursts is becoming something controlled. Dangerous.
And completely, irrevocably bound to me.
Clara stirs, amber eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she looks confused. Then memory floods back, and her cheeks flush pink.
"Morning," she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.
"Morning." I brush a strand of chestnut hair from her face. "How do you feel?"
She shifts, testing the soreness, and winces slightly. "Like I got hit by a very large, very enthusiastic truck."
The corner of my mouth twitches. "Regrets?"
Her gaze drops to the mating mark, fingers tracing the edge where my teeth broke skin. The touch sends heat straight through the bond, making my wolf stir restlessly.
"No," she says quietly. "But everything feels... different."
I nod. She's right. The space between us has changed, charged with something that makes the air itself feel heavier. There's less resistance in her posture when she looks at me, but it's not submission. It's recognition. Like she's finally seeing what was always there.
"The bond—"
Footsteps approach the safehouse. Heavy boots on stone, moving with purpose.
I'm on my feet before Clara can finish the sentence, pulling on pants and reaching for the knife on the nightstand. The scent hits me a second later. Familiar, but carrying urgency.
Cassian.
"Gideon." His voice carries through the reinforced door. "We need to talk."
I glance at Clara, who's already reaching for her clothes. The easy intimacy of the morning evaporates, replaced by the cold reality of our situation.
"Give us a minute," I call back.
Clara tugs on her sweater, movements efficient despite the obvious discomfort. When she catches me watching, she raises an eyebrow.
"What?"
"You're handling this better than most would."
"What, the supernatural death threats or the werewolf boyfriend?"
Mate. The word sits unspoken between us, too loaded for casual conversation.
"Both," I say instead.
She shrugs, but I catch the slight tremor in her hands as she laces her boots. "Panicking won't help. And I've read enough folklore to know that mating bonds aren't exactly... reversible."
The clinical way she says it makes my wolf bristle. Before I can respond, Cassian knocks again.
"Gideon. It's urgent."
I open the door. My Beta steps inside, green eyes taking in the scene. Rumpled bedding, Clara's mussed hair, the lingering scent of sex and magic. His expression doesn't change, but I catch the slight nod of approval.
About time, his look says.
"What's the situation?" I ask.
Cassian's demeanor shifts, all business. "Orion's forces are moving. No more scattered attacks. They're consolidating."
Clara goes still. "Consolidating where?"
"Fifteen miles northeast of our outer perimeter.
" Cassian pulls out a tactical tablet, showing heat signatures on a satellite map.
"Three separate groups converged during the night.
We're looking at forty-plus hostiles, including at least six warlocks and what appears to be a small vampire contingent. "
I study the formations. Professional. Coordinated. This isn't harassment anymore.
"They're preparing for a siege," I say.
"Or an all-out assault." Cassian taps the screen, zooming in. "Movement patterns suggest they're establishing a staging area. Supply lines, defensive positions. They're not planning to leave."
Clara steps closer, studying the map. "How long before they're ready to move?"
"Twelve hours. Maybe less."
The implications hit me like cold water. Orion isn't just trying to eliminate Clara anymore. He's escalating to open warfare, using her as justification to move against Frostfang directly.
"We need allies," I say. "Contact Shadowmere Pack. Ironwood. Anyone who's got reason to oppose council overreach."
"Already in motion." Cassian's fingers fly over the tablet. "Kane Shadowmere is mobilizing twenty warriors. Thorne Ironwood can spare fifteen. But even with allied support—"
"We'll be outnumbered," Clara finishes.
Both Cassian and I look at her. She's studying the tactical display with the same intensity she once brought to her folklore research, but there's steel in her expression now.
"This is about me," she continues. "Orion wants me dead because of what my bloodline represents. So maybe it's time I stopped running and started using it."
My wolf snarls at the suggestion. Every instinct I have screams against putting her in danger.
"Absolutely not."
Clara's amber eyes flash. "You don't get to make that choice for me."
"I'm your mate. Protecting you is exactly what I get to do."
"And I'm the last Ward witch alive." Her magic flickers, golden threads dancing around her fingers. "My family's power was designed to check supernatural authority. To prevent exactly what Orion is trying to do."
Cassian watches our standoff with interest. "She has a point, Gideon. We've been playing defense this entire time. Maybe it's time to consider offense."
I round on him. "You're suggesting we use her as bait?"
"I'm suggesting we stop treating her like a victim." Clara steps between us, chin raised. "I've been reading my grandmother's journals. There are binding rituals in there that could strip a supernatural ruler of their authority permanently. If Orion is corrupt—"
"If?" I growl. "He's been trying to kill you for weeks."
"Then maybe it's time someone did something about it."
The determination in her voice makes my chest tight. This isn't impulsive defiance anymore. She's thought this through, weighed the options. And she's choosing to fight.
The bond thrums between us, her resolve flowing through it like electricity. My wolf recognizes the strength in her, even as every protective instinct rebels against the risk.
"The rituals are dangerous," I say finally. "Your grandmother's notes mention them, but do they include instructions?"
Clara nods. "Detailed ones. But they require proximity to the target. And..." She hesitates. "They require a supernatural anchor. Someone with enough power to ground the magic."
Cassian's eyes cut between us. "An Alpha."
"An Alpha," Clara confirms. "The ritual binds the caster and the anchor together temporarily. If something goes wrong—"
"We both die," I finish.
The safehouse falls silent. Outside, I can hear the distant sounds of pack members moving through the forest, preparing for what's coming. The weight of leadership settles on my shoulders like a familiar coat.
Nearly thirty lives under my protection. A territory built from the ashes of war. And now, the woman who's become the center of my world, asking me to help her walk into the kind of danger that could destroy us both.
But the alternative is watching Orion tear apart everything we've built.
I look at Clara, studying the stubborn set of her jaw, the way her magic responds to her emotions. She's not the terrified folklore student I pulled from that council compound. The woman standing before me has power that could reshape the supernatural world.
And she's mine.
"If we do this," I say slowly, "we do it on our terms. Full tactical support. Allied backup. And you follow my orders regarding your safety."
Clara's eyes narrow. "I'm not agreeing to be sidelined—"
"You're agreeing to stay alive long enough to use your power." I step closer, letting her feel the full weight of my authority. "Because if you die trying to be a hero, Orion wins anyway."
She holds my stare for a long moment, then nods. "Fine. But I want to know everything about the tactical plan. No more keeping me in the dark."
"Deal."
Cassian clears his throat. "So we're really doing this? Taking the fight to Orion?"
I feel Clara's magic pulse through the bond, steady and sure. Whatever fear she's carrying, her resolve is stronger.
"We're ending this," I say. "One way or another."