Chapter 134

Kane's POV

The bottle in my hand was empty again.

I stared at the crystal tumbler sitting in front of me like it held answers to questions I couldn't even form anymore.

When had I started drinking? This morning? Yesterday felt like a blur. Last week? Hell, the days had melted together since finally inheriting my parents' territory and becoming Alpha.

A title that felt both long overdue and like something I didn’t deserve and could never even hope to live up to.

My advisors had given up on me completely. They'd stopped scheduling meetings after I missed half of them and showed up drunk to the other half. The few times I did appear, I'd snarl at anyone who dared question my decisions. Or lack thereof.

The territory was crumbling under my distracted leadership.

Trade agreements sat unsigned on my desk, gathering dust like everything else in my life. Diplomatic messages piled up in neat stacks my secretary organized daily. Border disputes escalated because I couldn't focus on anything beyond the hollow ache that had taken permanent residence in my chest.

"Alpha Kane?" My secretary's voice carried that careful neutrality she'd perfected over the past few weeks. Like she was talking to a dangerous animal. "There's urgent news from Blood Moon territory."

"Leave me alone," I slurred, my hand already fumbling for another bottle from the stash in my desk. "Someone better be bleeding out, or I don't give a damn."

"Sir, it's about Luna Aurora. The artifact network has been destroyed and now rogue forces are—"

My fingers couldn't grip the bottle anymore. Glass exploded across the floor—whiskey soaking into carpet that cost more than what most wolves earned in twelve months. "What?"

My secretary entered cautiously. She probably took in my disheveled appearance and the destroyed office that reflected my mental state perfectly.

Empty bottles everywhere. Broken furniture from drunken rages I barely remembered. Papers scattered like confetti because I couldn't bring myself to focus on administrative duties for more than five minutes.

"Reports indicate Aurora infiltrated Blood Moon alone," she said carefully. Each word chosen like she was defusing a bomb. "She destroyed the master artifact controlling Raymond but suffered severe magical backlash. Now the Rogue King's army is approaching for a full assault."

Each word punched through me. I'd been wallowing in bottles and self-hatred while Aurora threw herself into danger for people who'd abandoned her. She almost died fighting my battles. The whiskey in my gut turned to acid.

"How long ago?" My voice came out rough from weeks of drinking and shame.

"The artifact was destroyed last night. The assault begins at dawn."

Dawn. I looked out the window at the pre-sunrise darkness, calculating travel time to Blood Moon territory. If I left immediately and pushed my fastest scouts to their limits, I might arrive in time to help defend against the siege.

Might. The word tasted bitter.

"Gather whatever forces we can muster on short notice," I ordered, suddenly stone sober despite the alcohol coursing through my system. "Elite fighters only. We leave within the hour."

My secretary looked skeptical. Can't say I blamed her. "Alpha, in your current condition—"

"My current condition is irrelevant," I snapped, already moving toward the weapons cabinet I hadn't touched in weeks. "Aurora is in danger. That's the only thing that matters now."

The guilt was overwhelming as I strapped on combat gear that felt foreign after so much neglect. Aurora had been fighting to save everyone while I wallowed in destructive self-hatred. I'd convinced myself that staying away protected her from my toxic influence.

Instead, my absence had left her facing impossible odds alone.

What kind of Alpha was I? What kind of man?

Aurora's POV

Kane's arrival was completely unexpected.

I was coordinating defensive positions from the pack house’s main balcony when scouts reported friendly forces approaching from the northeast.

I was still weak and exhausted from my magical encounter. I almost thought I was hallucinating when I was first told Kane was here.

My heart did something complicated in my chest. Relief mixed with old hurt and lingering anger like ingredients in a bitter cocktail.

Kane had abandoned us during our greatest crisis. He'd chosen self-destructive wallowing over partnership when we needed unity most. But he was here now. And Moon Goddess knows we desperately needed every ally we could get.

I watched Kane walk into the courtyard below. Kane moved with focus I hadn't witnessed in months. Distance couldn't hide what our separation had done to him. He looked like hell—thinner, worn down, like someone who'd forgotten how to take care of himself.

Raymond emerged from the estate to greet him. Here stood two Alphas who'd circled each other over me, now thrown together while everything burned around us. "What the hell are you doing here?" Raymond's words dripped venom.

Kane's response was equally cold. "I came to help Aurora. I don’t need your permission."

"She's my Luna, my responsibility," Raymond shot back. His possessive instincts were overriding strategic thinking. "You forfeited any right to protect her when you abandoned her."

"Your responsibility?" Kane's laugh was harsh and bitter. Like broken glass grinding together. "You nearly got her killed with your obsessive paranoia. Don't lecture me about protecting Aurora when you tortured her friends for information about her personal life."

The confrontation was escalating toward violence. It drew attention from pack members who should've been focused on preparing for siege warfare. I could see fighters from both groups watching their Alphas with growing concern.

"Both of you stop!" I called down from the balcony. My voice carried Luna authority that cut through their territorial dispute like a blade. "We have bigger problems than your wounded egos."

Kane looked up at me for the first time since arriving. His expression was complex with emotions I couldn't sort through. Relief at seeing me alive. Guilt over his absence. Something that might have been longing was quickly suppressed.

"Aurora." Kane's voice was quiet but somehow reached me anyway. "I heard what happened. I came as soon as I could."

The simple statement held layers of meaning. Duty hadn't dragged him here. I had.

No matter how badly we'd screwed things up, Kane couldn't abandon me when death was knocking. "We can use your people," I said, trying to sound businesslike. "Every sword counts."

But my relief bled through anyway. Anyone could hear it. Kane's tactical genius and extra fighters boosted our odds considerably. More than that—having him here filled some hollow space I'd been ignoring.

Raymond noticed my tone shift. After everything, he still hated hearing warmth creep into my voice when I looked at Kane.

"We need to coordinate strategy," Kane said. His professional mask was sliding into place with practiced ease. "What's our defensive situation?"

The three of us managing to work together despite explosive personal tensions would be crucial for everyone's survival. Our people needed leadership, not a power struggle between competing Alphas who couldn't put aside their personal drama.

"War room," I said simply. "Both of you. And leave the personal drama outside."

As they moved toward the estate, I caught Kane glancing back up at me one more time. His expression held too many layers. Sorry, determined, and something else that made my ribs feel too tight. I didn't want to pick apart what that something meant.

He was here. Whatever else had gone wrong between us, Kane was here when I needed him most.

That had to count for something.

The siege preparations continued around us with renewed energy. Now we had hope.

Sure, more fighters helped. But mainly because Kane and I might still work as a team, even with all the damage we'd done to each other. Survive this fight first. Then maybe we'd figure out how to survive us.

The timing was almost funny. We'd gotten so good at wounding each other that we'd nearly lost our ability to be partners. Funny how impending death clarified priorities. Right now, only one thing counted—keeping our people breathing.