Chapter 73

ELENA

My knuckles still stung.

The taste of blood hung in the air—his, not mine—and the man I’d clocked in the mouth earlier had stalked off in a fit of pique. Probably to get backup.

If I wanted to make my move, now was the time.

The other one, the taller rogue with the cold eyes, was still watching me. Calm. Too calm.

It was just him and me.

I was weighing my options. I could shift. Nox was already pacing inside me, teeth bared. I was strong enough to take him—maybe.

The rogue smirked, as if he could hear the thought before I finished forming it.

“Go ahead and shift,” he said, stepping closer. “Make it easy on us.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“No.”

That answer surprised even me.

He looked disappointed. “Shame. I was hoping for a little excitement.”

That was when the door slammed open.

Pierce.

His smile was gone. The fake warmth wiped clean. What remained was sharp and furious.

“You want to hurt my men?” he said, voice low and full of promise.

Then his hand exploded across my face.

White-hot pain lit up my cheek. My head snapped to the side. Stars bloomed in my vision and the room tilted.

Then—

A growl.

Not his.

Not mine.

Low. Deep. Dangerous.

For a split second, I thought it was Pierce. That he was going to finish what he started.

But the sound was behind him.

Pierce turned—

—and Derek launched himself into the room like a hurricane.

He collided with Pierce mid-pivot, shoulder-first, knocking him across the floor.

“Get Aiden,” he growled over his shoulder, already moving after him. “Run.”

I blinked, stunned.

Derek?

How—?

Then I saw the shadow in the hallway. A small silhouette, his hoodie streaked with dirt.

“Aiden,” I breathed.

He was watching me, wide-eyed, waiting for me to come get him.

But before I could move, another sound broke the moment—a door bursting open behind me.

More rogues.

Of course. Pierce had mindlinked them. They came pouring into the room like a flood.

I turned toward them, my vision still blurry, heart racing.

If there’s a fight to be had, then let Nox have it.

I let go of the human shape and shifted.

DEREK

I barely registered Pierce hitting the floor before he sprang back up, fast as a striking snake.

Former Gamma. Trained. Dangerous.

We clashed again, fists and fury flying in a blur. He landed a sharp elbow to my ribs—I grunted, staggered—but caught myself and drove forward, slamming him into the wall with a growl.

“You’ve made a mistake,” I snarled. “Coming after her.”

He laughed in my face, blood already trickling from his mouth. “Hasn’t felt like one yet.”

I slammed him again, harder. The wall cracked.

Behind us, the room was chaos.

Elena—Nox now—was already tearing through the rogues like a blade of moonlight, graceful and lethal. Copper fur streaked with blood. Her snarl curled through the air like a war cry.

I felt the mindlink flare.

Brock. Joe. Now.

They were already in position, crouched just outside the villa perimeter with a small strike team, waiting for my signal.

Now it came.

Seconds later, the front windows exploded inward, glass raining down in a glittering storm. Silverclaw warriors surged through the breach like a wave of fury. Joe and Brock were the first—already shifting mid-air, fur erupting from skin, claws flashing.

Rogues came pouring in to meet them, snarling, outnumbered—but they didn’t stand a chance.

Still, I couldn’t look away from Pierce.

He was everywhere—ducking, striking, twisting out of reach. He slammed his knee into my gut and followed it with a sharp elbow to my jaw. My head snapped back—I saw stars, white heat flashing behind my eyes.

Pain exploded through my skull, but I welcomed it. It cleared me. Focused me.

Because this wasn’t just another rogue.

This was him.

The man who rained down terror and blood. Who probably killed my father.

Who’d shattered our pack. Who’d torn a hole in my mother’s heart that never closed.

The man who stole Elena, hurt her, scared Aiden—who dragged us all into a war we didn’t start.

My wolf surged forward, red-hot rage rising up to meet him.

The same fury that had overtaken me at the Alliance Summit roared back, stronger than before. It wasn’t just instinct—it was vengeance.

I caught Pierce’s next punch, twisted his arm behind his back, and slammed him to the floor with enough force to rattle the bones in both our bodies.

“You leading the rogue factions now?” I shouted, my voice like gravel and fire. “You attacking peaceful packs? Families?”

He laughed.

Actually laughed—blood spilling from his lip, teeth stained red.

“Wouldn’t you just like to know?”

I hauled him up by his collar, nose to nose, my breath ragged. My vision narrowed to the monster in front of me.

“Did you kill my father?” I demanded.

His eyes glittered with triumph.

He spat blood into my face.

“Yes,” he hissed. “And I’d kill him again.”

Something inside me snapped.

The control I’d fought so hard to master—the training, the strategy, the calm under pressure—it all dissolved in a single heartbeat.

I didn’t hesitate.

I didn’t think.

I ripped him apart.

My claws tore through skin and muscle like paper. My fists pounded bone. I felt cartilage collapse beneath my hands, ribs shatter, blood hot and slick between my fingers. He screamed once. Then not again.

I didn’t stop until there was nothing left in him that could fight back.

Not because I wanted to.

Because I had to.

Because if I didn’t end him, he’d do it again. He’d keep killing, keep leading, keep poisoning every fragile thing we were trying to protect.

When it was over, I stood over his broken body, chest heaving, hands dripping.

I didn’t feel satisfaction.

I felt empty.

Like I’d finally dug out the rot but had to tear open part of myself to do it.

ELENA

The fighting slowed.

Bodies littered the floor.

Some still. Some twitching.

Blood pooled across the tile in long, sluggish streaks, seeping into the grout. It smelled like copper and sweat and death.

My fur was matted with it—some of it mine, most of it not.

I held the shift for a moment longer, heart still hammering, my body buzzing with leftover adrenaline. Nox didn’t want to let go. She paced beneath my skin, ears twitching, teeth bared. But the danger had passed.

Mostly.

I shifted back, my legs trembling slightly as they took shape. I grabbed the swimsuit I’d been wearing and pulled it back on with clumsy hands, fabric sticking to damp skin.

The room was quiet now, except for the sound of heavy breathing and the distant groans of a dying rogue. Brock was still growling low in his chest, standing over the body of one of the men who had come at me, his claws dripping, his eyes locked on the last movement in the room—just in case.

Joe was dragging another out the front door, not gentle about it.

I turned slowly, scanning the space.

And there he was.

Derek.

Standing at the center of the room like a storm that had just passed through. His chest was rising and falling fast, his shirt torn at the collar, soaked with sweat and blood.

His knuckles were split open, raw and red. One hand still curled like it hadn’t let go of the last punch.

At his feet—

Pierce.

Or what was left of him. A ruined, broken thing.

The sight of it should have made me feel something. Relief. Triumph. Justice.

But all I felt was dread. The kind that sinks in your bones. The kind that whispers that something’s still wrong.

I looked around at the wolves still standing.

Derek.

Joe.

Brock.

Three more Silverclaw warriors I didn’t recognize, eyes wide, still catching their breath.

That was it.

No small figure in a hoodie.

No familiar mop of messy auburn hair.

No bright blue eyes searching for me in the chaos.

Just blood. Just silence.

“Where’s Aiden?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

It came out raw.

Ragged.

The way it does when you’re trying not to scream.

No one answered right away.

Something shifted in Derek’s face. His shoulders tensed. His eyes locked onto mine—dark and serious.

And that was when the ground began to tilt under my feet.