I want to argue, but my body betrays me. My eyes close despite my best efforts, and I slip into healing sleep with Ryker’s presence a protective shield around me.
When I wake, the sun has climbed higher, its warmth soaking into my skin and chasing away the last ghost-sensations of the silver’s cold burn. Ryker sits beside me, his massive frame between me and any potential threat, hisattention divided between the compound below and something held in his hands.
“You’ve been busy,” I observe, recognizing the shadow silver dagger he’d given me, somehow recovered during the chaos of our escape.
He glances up, relief evident in his expression as he sees me awake and alert. “How do you feel?”
“Stronger.” I sit up, taking stock of my body. The fatigue remains but has receded. “Better. What’s happened?”
“Scouts report movement in the valley. A contingent approaching from the east—not large but still a threat.”
“Thaddeus?”
Ryker nods. “Along with Zella, and his personal guard. They’ll reach the plateau within the hour.”
“He could have fled. Regrouped. Why come directly to us when his position is weakened?”
“Because this was never about military advantage or political calculation.” Ryker hands me the shadow silver dagger, watching as my fingers close around its hilt. “This is about destiny, and the future of wolf-kind itself. He believes confronting me is necessary—not just to maintain his authority but to preserve his vision of what our people should be.”
The explanation rings true, fitting with everything I’ve learned of the Grand Alpha. He doesn’t see himself as a tyrant clinging to power but as a guardian protecting necessary order—making any sacrifice worthwhile, any cruelty justified, for the greater good.
Elias approaches, inclining his head respectfully to both of us before delivering his report. “Our forces are positioned as directed, Alpha. Ghost River wolves to the northeast, Mountain Striders to the west. Our own fighters in defensive formation around the plateau itself.”
“Good.” Ryker rises, his massive frame silhouetted against the morning sky. “When Thaddeus arrives, ourpeople are to maintain position. Do not engage unless I fall. This ends today.”
The order carries absolute authority, acknowledged by Elias with grim understanding. This final confrontation will not be decided by armies or strategy but by a direct challenge.
Do not engage unless I fall.
He says it so calmly. So certainly. As if it’s just another tactical command, not the line between life and death.
Ryker has no intention of dragging anyone else into this. This is his burden, his reckoning. Alpha against alpha. Son against father.
And gods, it hurts.
Not because I doubt him. Not for a second. I’ve seen what he can do—his strength, his cunning, the brutal grace with which he leads. But that doesn’t soften the knot forming in my gut. It doesn’t quiet the ache of knowing he’s deliberately stepping into the fire, willing to burn so no one else has to.
It doesn’t lessen the knowledge that I can’t see the outcome of his decision.
My fists curl at my sides. I want to scream. To beg him not to go. To demand another way.
But there isn’t one.
This is how it has to be.
I lift my eyes to him, silhouetted against the dawn, every inch the alpha he was born to be. I want to run to him. I want to fight beside him. I want to tear Thaddeus apart for making this necessary.
Love, fury, and despair tangle in a desperate writhing knot in my chest, but I stand my ground—his mate, his equal—and anchor myself in the storm.
Ryker isn’t alone.
Not while I breathe.
“And if his guard interferes?” Elias asks.
“They won’t.” Ryker’s certainty is absolute. “Thaddeus believes he can win.”
As Elias withdraws to relay the orders, I stand beside my mate, studying his profile. The silver wounds from last night’s fight have mostly healed, but I can see how the contamination lingers, slowing his recovery and diminishing his full strength. He’s far from peak condition for the coming confrontation.
