Chapter 139

Lauren

The forest burned.

Not with fire—but with movement, fury, howls that shook the sky. Paws thundering across broken earth. The moon was high and full above us, its silver light bleeding into every crack of the battlefield like it had chosen its side.

And it had.

Because the moment that howl echoed from the ridge, everything changed.

Abigail, Owen, Theo… and behind them—the pack. My pack.

And at the center of it all, riding down the hill like a storm given flesh, was the Alpha King.

Sure, he was old, but that didn’t make hsi wolf form anyless of a force to fear. He let out a roar so deep it practically shook the forest—a call to war and judgment.

The Rogue King stood opposite him, blood trailing from his lip, claws twitching. His soldiers—what was left of them—paused, hesitated. Their eyes darted to the Alpha King. Then to the reinforcements. And then to us, bruised and bloodied, but still standing.

Still fighting.

Still not dead.

Mark rose behind me, his monstrous form steaming with effort. Alexander took his place infront of me, one arm scorched, the other bleeding, but eyes locked on the enemy like nothing else mattered.

Abigail and Owen barreled toward us and took position, flanking us like we were born to do this together.

And Theo…

Theo was quiet, already watching his father with something unreadable in his eyes.

The Rogue King let out a low snarl.

“Traitors. All of you.”

“You first,” I hissed.

“You don’t think I would leave part of my pack by it’s self to burn, do you GrimMaw?” The Alpha King smirked, his massive form stopping at the bottom of the hill. “And here I thought you were on to something here. Turns out your the same idiot who tried to kill me years ago.”

GrimMaw snarled, his gaze snapping between everyone before transforming once more a blast of fur and bone. “I WON’T LOSE! NOT AGAIN!”

And then—

All hell broke loose.

The two Kings charged—Alpha King and Rogue King colliding in the center of the field with an explosion of claw and fang, a shockwave pulsing through the dirt like thunder. Trees splintered. Stone cracked. Their snarls were so loud, so primal, I felt them in my bones.

We didn’t wait.

Our family surged forward.

Mark launched himself like a bullet, tackling two rogues before they could reach the Alpha King. He ripped one off his shoulder, tossed him like a doll, then turned on the second and bit down, regardless of his human teeth. The sound was sickening.

Abigail moved like a shadow, slicing through enemies with wild, desperate precision. Owen was beside her—silent but brutal, protecting her back like it was instinct. They weren’t just fighting. They were claiming their place.

Alexander ducked beneath a rogue’s claw, slammed his elbow into its jaw, and finished with a roar that sent the beast crashing into the mud, transforming mid jump and taking out another.

And I—

I burnedwith them.

My limbs ached. My lungs screamed. But something inside me glowed, kept me upright. Kept me fast. Kept me furious.

The Rogue King twisted away from the Alpha King and lunged for me again—but this time, I was ready.

I ducked under his swipe, drove my claws into his side. He howled, twisting, but Alexander was already there, slamming him back into the ground.

Mark joined, slicing a knife into the King’s shoulder, right where Sophia had, and holding.

Then Owen tackled his legs.

Abigail landed a kick to his head.

Theo leapt from behind, catching his father's arm and twisting until I heard the bone pop.

We fought as one.

Our timing was jagged. Our styles different. But it worked. We were a force—a fractured, furious, beautiful force.

The Rogue King tried to rise, roaring, throwing all of us off in one last explosion of magic—but the Alpha King slammed into him from the side.

They rolled, claws and teeth and curses.

And then—

The Rogue King faltered.

His legs gave out. His arm bent wrong. His mouth dripped blood.

He dropped to his knees.

The forest quieted.

He panted hard, human again, one hand clutching the ground, the other raised in surrender.

His one good eye found mine. He was alone, his pack or ‘gang’ having long left him.

“Please,” he rasped, broken and raw. “Forgive me. I... I was wrong. I just wanted to—”

I didn’t move.

My body trembled. My hands clenched. But I didn’t speak.

Because beside me, Theo stepped forward.

And said, cool and clear: “Sorry, Dad.”

He met his father’s gaze head-on.

“But you’ve always been weak.”

Then he raised one clawed hand and brought it down—hard—into the side of his father’s head.

The Rogue King collapsed.

Unmoving.

Unconscious.

What was left of the rogues scattered, the remaining few fleeing into the trees like ash on the wind. They knew it. The battle was done.

And the cost…

I turned, taking in the grizzly sight of dead wolves, people—blood soaked the camp, fire alight amongst the tents.

It was a complete mess. I nearly froze when my eyes landed on a sight I wasn’t sure what to make of.

There—at the center of the camp—was Mark. He must have gone over as soon as we had won.

He was crouch low, hunched on his knees.

Holding Sophia’s body in his arms.

His face buried in her hair.

He didn’t make a sound. Just rocked her back and forth, blood pooling under them both, tears running down his dirt-smeared cheeks.

My heart shattered for a relationship I didn’t understand, just knew meant something to him. To her.

I took a step toward him. Another.

And then—my leg gave out.

I let out a gasp, stumbling—

But strong arms caught me.

Alexander.

Always.

He pulled me close, picking me up, his forehead resting against mine.

“You’re alright,” he breathed. “I’ve got you.”

I nodded shakily, eyes still locked on Mark.

Then—Abigail and Owen ran to my side. “Mom! Dad!” They said Abigail smiling. “We got that old fart to come with us! Man he wasn’t easy to convince either but—”

But I practically choked when seeing them. “What were you thinking?” I barked instinctively, grabbing them both.

They froze.

“You could’ve died—” My voice cracked. “You disobeyed orders—”

Abigail’s lip trembled.

Owen stared down.

I swallowed, pulled them in tighter to me, to their father.

They blinked up at me, surprised.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Just…” My breath left in a sigh. “You were amazing. Thank you. You saved us.”

Alexander took a knee and pulled our kids int us, holding us all. He was clearly exhausted but we were here, alive. All of us. And that was lucky.

A family.

Bruised.

Bloodied.

But together.

On the outside of our circle, Theo stood—silent, watching, apart.

Until Abigail turned to him.

She reached out without a word and yanked him to us.

Theo froze.

Then—slowly, hesitantly—his arms came around her.

And he exhaled.

I was quick to pull the boy in with me, cradling the kids as Abigail let out a few tear

My gaze fell between the kids shoulders, landing back on Mark, his chest heaving.

If only… I had been stronger.