The mighty wolf stood still, shuddering, holding Esther gently in the embrace of its huge forelegs. Tunde, slowly recovering from the toxin, crawled out of the belfry, followed by the badly bruised Ngozi.
Fortune stood alone, utterly defeated.
"You cannot win, Fortune," Esther said, still holding the wolf's muzzle. "The Balance is secured. The wolf is controlled by choice, not by curse. Leave this city, or face a combined force of the Pack, unburdened and stronger than you can imagine."
Fortune looked at the immense, fully transformed wolf—the embodiment of strength anchored by devotion—and he knew he was facing an insurmountable power. The New Pact was unbreakable.
"This is not over, Keeper," Fortune vowed, his voice a cold whisper of absolute promise. "The Shadow will wait for the day the love falters."
He turned and flowed into the air, a final, ragged wisp of smoke and cold stone, vanishing from the campus, accepting his temporary exile.