Chapter 71
The fires at our borders mysteriously died down as quickly as they had ignited. Warriors returning from the eastern perimeter reported that the rogue forces had abruptly withdrawn—vanishing into the darkness as if their attack had been nothing but a distraction.
"It doesn't make sense," I said to Kane as we stood in the command center. Dawn was breaking, casting long shadows across the maps and tactical displays. "Why, once again, coordinate such a massive attack only to retreat?"
Kane's expression darkened. "Because the attack wasn't the objective. Like with what happened at Swift River, this was meant to be a diversion."
“A diversion for what?” I questioned.
Just then, Elena burst into the command center, her usually perfect appearance disheveled and her face pale with panic. "Aurora, Kane—we have to leave for Silver Lake immediately."
My blood turned to ice at her expression. "What's happened?"
"Marcus's condition has deteriorated rapidly overnight," she said, her voice barely controlled. "The healers are saying... they don't think he has much time left."
Kane immediately mobilized his security team. "I'll arrange transport for all three of us. Elena, you'll ride with Aurora and me."
Elena nodded grimly. "I've already sent word to Raymond, but he's still dealing with the aftermath of the border situation, and we don’t have time to wait."
As we raced through the predawn light toward Silver Lake, the silver crescent mark on my neck seemed to pulse with urgency. In the back seat, Elena sat rigidly upright, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she stared out the window.
"We'll get there in time," Kane assured me from the driver's seat, though uncertainty shadowed his eyes. His hand found mine across the center console, our fingers intertwining with naturalness that still surprised me.
I felt his thumb worriedly brush over my knuckles, a nervous gesture that betrayed his calm words. The repetitive motion revealed his anxiety despite his reassuring tone.
"I keep thinking about how close we came to losing you in that crash," he admitted, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "And now Marcus... I can't—" He stopped, seemingly unable to voice his fears.
I squeezed his hand. "You won't lose me."
His vulnerability caught me off guard—the playboy facade completely absent. The silver crescent warmed at his touch, responding to the genuine emotion between us.
We arrived at Silver Lake as morning mist still clung to the valley. The three of us moved quickly through the entrance, Elena leading the way with familiarity born of countless visits to her mate's side.
A healer greeted us. "He's asking for you both," she said, referring to me and Kane. I looked into his eyes and saw my concern mirrored back at me.
The medical wing was eerily quiet as we followed her down the corridor. I pushed past the pain in my healing leg, drawing strength from Kane's steady presence beside me.
Marcus lay motionless except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The once-powerful Alpha who had guided the pack with unwavering strength now looked fragile, his skin ashen against the white sheets.
His eyes fluttered open as we approached, immediately focusing on the silver crescent on my neck. A weak smile crossed his face.
"You found your true path," he whispered, his gaze shifting meaningfully between Kane and me.
Kane stepped forward, his usual casual stance replaced by respectful formality. "Alpha Marcus."
Marcus raised a trembling hand, beckoning us closer. "The poison came from within," he managed, each word clearly an effort. "Trust no one with the mark of the crescent moon..."
Before I could ask what he meant, the door burst open. Raymond stood frozen in the threshold, his eyes wide with shock as he took in his father's condition.
"Father!" Raymond rushed to the bedside, genuine grief breaking through his usually controlled demeanor.
Marcus struggled to focus on his son. "Raymond... she is not what she..." A violent seizure cut off his words, his body arching as the poison delivered its final assault.
"Get the healers!" Raymond shouted, panic replacing grief.
The next moments unfolded in chaos. Healers rushed in with emergency remedies, their hands moving with practiced precision as they fought against the inevitable. I found myself backing away from the bed, giving them space to work while a silent prayer formed in my mind.
Despite the healers' desperate efforts, I could see the light fading from Marcus's eyes. In a rare moment of shared grief, Raymond reached for my hand across his father's bed. I took it instinctively, feeling the echo of our childhood connection.
Marcus's gaze moved between us one last time, then fixed on something beyond our vision. With a final, rattling breath, the great Alpha slipped away.
Elena's anguished cry shattered the silence. She collapsed beside the bed, her composure finally breaking as she clutched Marcus's still-warm hand.
Raymond stood frozen, shock overtaking him. I felt a wave of unexpected compassion for him—not love, but genuine sorrow for the boy I'd grown up with, now lost beneath Giana's manipulation.
Kane appeared at my side, his eyes finding mine immediately, silently asking if I was alright. The concern in his gaze made my heart tighten with emotions I wasn't ready to name.
The healers respectfully covered Marcus's face with the traditional silver-threaded shroud, murmuring the ancient blessing reserved for fallen Alphas. The room fell into heavy silence, broken only by Elena's quiet sobs.
"I should begin the death announcement," Raymond finally said, his voice hollow with grief. "The pack needs to know."
I nodded, my thoughts turning to the suspicious timing. "The rogues' withdrawal—it was because they accomplished their real mission."
Kane's expression hardened with realization. "They never intended to breach our defenses permanently. They just needed to create enough chaos to ensure no one would notice another dose of poison being administered."
Raymond looked between us, confusion momentarily breaking through his grief. "What are you saying?"
I hesitated, knowing this wasn't the moment to accuse Giana. Raymond was too vulnerable, his grief too raw for such revelations. "We can discuss our suspicions later," I said quietly. "For now, we honor Marcus."
Raymond straightened his shoulders, attempting to gather the strength needed for the ritual that would officially mark the beginning of his leadership.
"I'll assist you," I offered quietly, the Luna's role in this ancient ceremony ingrained in me since childhood.
Raymond nodded gratefully, a brief moment of connection passing between us before Giana slipped into the room. Her face wore the perfect mask of sympathetic grief, but her eyes remained calculating as they assessed the situation.
"My love, let me help you," she said, moving to Raymond's side and placing a possessive hand on his arm. "You shouldn't have to bear this alone."
I caught the faintest flicker of something in her eyes—satisfaction, perhaps even triumph—before it was carefully hidden behind a veil of practiced sorrow.
Later, in a quiet moment away from prying eyes, the grief I'd been holding at bay finally broke free. Kane pulled me into his arms without hesitation, holding me as sobs shook my body.
"He believed in us," I whispered against his chest, the pain of loss temporarily overwhelming my strength. "He was more of a father to me than my own."
Kane's arms tightened around me, one hand gently stroking my hair. "He saw the truth when others couldn't," he said softly. "About Raymond, about Giana, about us."
I pulled back slightly to look at him. "Us?"
Kane's eyes held mine, more open and vulnerable than I'd ever seen them. "The silver crescent doesn't form by accident, Aurora. Marcus knew that."
Outside, the mourning songs began as pack members gathered to honor their fallen leader. But beneath the traditional rituals of grief, I sensed the shifting of power—dangerous currents moving beneath the surface.
The rogue attack had been a diversion, allowing Giana to deliver the final dose of poison that took Marcus's life. Now, with Raymond officially Alpha and still under her influence, we faced a threat greater than border skirmishes or political maneuvering.
As I looked into Kane's eyes, I realized how much had changed between us. The man who had once been Raymond's annoying playboy friend had become something else entirely—my partner, my protector, perhaps something more that neither of us was ready to name.
"What happens now?" I asked, not just about the pack but about this undefined connection between us.
Kane's answer encompassed both. "We honor Marcus by protecting what he loved—this pack, its people." His hand rose to gently brush my cheek. "And we face whatever comes next together."
The silver crescent on my neck pulsed gently, as if confirming what Marcus had recognized in his final moments—that sometimes the greatest strength comes not from the bonds we're born into, but from those we choose for ourselves.
