The roar of the Silver Falls was a deafening thunder, a wall of white noise that drowned out the frantic beating of Ava's heart. The mist was cold, clinging to her skin like a shroud as she stepped into the moonlit clearing.
Standing by the edge of the precipice, silhouetted against the churning water, was Marcus. He looked different tonight—his eyes were bloodshot, and a desperate, frantic energy radiated from him. In his hand, he held a small vial containing a shimmering, obsidian liquid.
"You actually came," Marcus sneered, his voice barely audible over the waterfall. "I knew the little rogue still had a soft spot for her 'monsters.' Or did the Blackwood Alpha rub off on you that quickly?"
"Where is it, Marcus?" Ava demanded, her hand gripped tight around the hidden letter opener in her pocket. "The venom you mentioned. How do you know about the Blood Tether?"
Marcus laughed, a jagged sound. "I have friends in dark places, Ava. Places even Silas Blackwood can't reach. This vial contains Wolfsbane's Sorrow—a concentrated extract that doesn't just poison the body; it corrupts the bond. One drop in his drink, or one scratch on his skin, and that tether you're so proud of will turn into a noose. It will rip your souls apart from the inside out."
Ava felt a cold shiver of terror. The Blood Tether was humming in her mind—a low, rhythmic pulse of Silas's growing fury. He was close. He was tracking her. But if he burst into this clearing and Marcus broke that vial, the feedback would destroy everyone.
"You won't do it," Ava said, stepping forward, her eyes narrowing. "If Silas dies, his pack will hunt you to the ends of the earth. You're a Beta, Marcus. You're nothing without the protection of a pack."
"I'm nothing already!" Marcus screamed, his face twisting with rage. "You were supposed to be my submissive little mate. You were supposed to give me an heir that would secure my place in the Crimson-Fang. Instead, you carry my child into the bed of my greatest enemy! If I can't have the legacy, I'll ensure no one does."
He moved toward her, the vial raised.
Silas, wait, Ava thought, screaming into the mental link. Stay back. Don't let him see you yet.
A faint, deep rumble echoed in her mind—a sound of suppressed slaughter. Silas was there, hidden in the shadows of the pines, his silver eyes watching, waiting for the perfect second to strike.
"Marcus, wait," Ava said, her voice suddenly softening. she took another step, her expression shifting from defiance to a calculated, faked vulnerability. "You think I want to be here? With a man who calls me 'property'?"
Marcus paused, his grip on the vial wavering. "What?"
"Silas is a monster," Ava lied, the words tasting like ash, but she leaned into the performance. "He forced the ritual on me. He's using this baby as a political shield. I'm a prisoner in that manor, Marcus. If you really want to hurt him... don't kill us. Help me run."
For a split second, Marcus's ego flared. He wanted to believe he was still the man she feared and desired. He lowered the vial slightly, a smug look of triumph crossing his face. "I knew you were still the same weak little girl."
"I am," Ava whispered, moving within arm's reach. "Which is why I brought you a gift. Proof of Silas's plans for the Council."
She reached into her pocket, not for a document, but for the silver letter opener. In one swift, fluid motion—a move she had practiced a hundred times in the obsidian hall—she lunged.
She didn't aim for his heart. She aimed for the hand holding the vial.
The silver blade sliced through Marcus's wrist. He cried out in agony, his fingers reflexively opening. The vial fell.
Ava dove for it, her fingers brushing the glass, but Marcus was faster than a human. Even injured, his wolf reflexes kicked in. He caught the vial in his other hand and swung a heavy fist, clipping Ava across the jaw.
She hit the muddy ground hard, the world spinning.
"You bitch!" Marcus roared, blood dripping from his wrist. "You dare—"
He raised the vial, ready to smash it against the rocks at her feet.
"MARCUS!"
The roar didn't come from a human throat. It came from the very earth itself.
The forest exploded. A midnight-black blur, larger and more terrifying than any wolf Ava had ever seen, erupted from the tree line. Silas didn't shift mid-air; he was already a beast of pure shadow and silver light.
He hit Marcus like a freight train.
The vial flew into the air, spinning in the moonlight. Ava scrambled on her hands and knees, her eyes fixed on the obsidian liquid. She caught it just inches from a jagged stone, her fingers trembling as she clutched the glass to her chest.
Behind her, the sounds of the struggle were visceral—the cracking of bone, the tearing of sinew, and the guttural, horrific whimpering of a Beta who had realized he was outmatched.
Silas, in his massive wolf form, had Marcus pinned by the shoulder. He wasn't killing him—not yet. He was playing with him, his claws digging deep into Marcus's chest, his silver eyes glowing with a demonic hunger.
"Silas, stop!" Ava screamed, finding her feet. "Don't let the bloodlust take you! We need him alive for the ceremony! He's the only proof that the Council was being manipulated!"
The Black Wolf turned his head. His muzzle was stained crimson, and for a second, Ava didn't see Silas. She saw the ancient, primal Alpha spirit—a force that knew only hunger and dominance.
The Blood Tether pulsed—a red, throbbing wave of Kill. Tear. Destroy.
Ava didn't recoil. She walked right up to the massive wolf, ignoring the lethal snap of his jaws. She placed her hand on his blood-soaked neck.
"Silas," she whispered, her voice a calm anchor in his storm. "Look at me. Look at us. Don't let him win by turning you into the monster he says you are."
The growling stopped. The silver fire in his eyes flickered, then softened. Silas let out a long, shuddering breath and stepped back from Marcus's broken body.
He shifted back into his human form, naked and covered in blood, but his gaze was fixed entirely on Ava. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip bruising.
"Are you hurt?" he demanded, his voice a jagged edge. "Did he touch you?"
"I'm fine," she breathed, holding up the vial. "I have the venom. He didn't break it."
Silas took the vial and crushed it in his bare hand, the obsidian liquid harmlessly coating his skin before he wiped it on the grass. He looked down at Marcus, who was curled in a fetal position, sobbing and broken.
"He's coming with us," Silas said, his voice cold and final. "He's going to watch the Moon Ceremony from the dungeons. And when the Goddess crowns you, he will be the first to kneel before he dies."
Silas turned to Ava, his expression softening for a fraction of a second. He reached out, his thumb wiping a smear of mud from her cheek.
"You lied well, Ava," he murmured, a dark glint of pride in his eyes. "But never lie to me like that again. Even for a performance, I didn't like the way 'help me run' felt through the bond."
"I'm not going anywhere, Silas," Ava promised, leaning into his touch despite the blood.
The Moon Ceremony was tomorrow. The danger was far from over. But as Silas wrapped his cloak around her and lifted her into his arms, Ava realized that the lie they had created was no longer a cage. It was a fortress.
And Marcus had just given them the final piece they needed to burn the Council to the ground.