The next morning, Aurora was in the garden, her hands brushing over the lavender plants she’d planted last spring. She looked peaceful, her light brown hair catching the sunlight, but the slight furrow in her brow told me her mind was far from calm.
I noticed Gus before she did, his red hair casting a vivid scarlet shadow across the doorway.
“Gus,” Aurora said, her face lighting up as she stood to greet him. “This is a surprise.”
He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thought I’d drop by. You know, see how you’re holding up.”
I leaned against the doorway, watching as they talked. Their voices were light, familiar, despite the weight of what they’d both endured during the kidnapping. It was a bond I couldn’t resent—Gus and Tyler had kept Aurora safe when I couldn’t.
“Gus,” I said, stepping forward. “Good to see you.”
“Alpha Anthony,” he replied, straightening slightly, his easy smile fading into something more serious.
“What brings you here?”
He hesitated, his green eyes flicking to Aurora before landing on me. “Just wanted to check in—see how Aurora and little John are doing.”
He paused, swallowing hard. “And, actually, I wanted to talk to you, Anthony. I need to know…what was discussed at the Council meeting.”
His words froze me for a moment. Gus wasn’t at the Council meeting, but his parents were. What exactly was he fishing for?
“Why do you want to know, Gus?” I asked, narrowing my eyes, trying to read his intent.
He sighed, looking more like the teenager he was than the alpha he would become.
“My parents have been…tense since the meeting. Especially my mom. She’s been pacing the house, muttering things about bloodlines and prophecies. I asked her about it, but she clammed up. I’m worried. You’re the only alpha I trust outside my family, and I thought…maybe you could help me figure out what’s going on.”
Aurora glanced at me, her brow furrowing. I searched Gus’s face for any sign of duplicity but saw only genuine concern.
“What exactly did she say?” I asked, keeping my voice calm even as unease crept into my chest.
“Something about the Council knowing too much,” Gus admitted. “She’s shaken—more than I’ve ever seen her. My dad’s trying to calm her down, but it feels like she’s bracing for something. I don’t know what to do.”
I exchanged a glance with Aurora, who nodded slightly.
“You know, Gus,” I said carefully, “it’s good you came here. Why don’t you bring your parents over for dinner? We can talk about the meeting, and maybe it’ll help ease everyone’s nerves.”
His green eyes lit up with a spark of hope. “Really? You think they’d come?”
“I think it’s worth a try,” I replied.
He nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Thank you, Anthony.”
We watched him leave a few minutes later, his steps lighter but his worry still palpable.
Aurora turned to me, her voice low. “Do you think Clair knows something?”
I nodded slowly, my gaze lingering on the path Gus had taken. “I think they both do. And I’m going to find out what.”
The dining hall was warm, bathed in the soft golden glow of the chandeliers. The long oak table between us was laden with dishes I barely noticed. My focus was on the guests—Arthur, Clair, and Gus—seated across from me.
Aurora’s hand brushed mine under the table, grounding me in the moment. I glanced at her, her steady green eyes meeting mine, offering a silent reminder to stay calm.
“Thank you for joining us,” my father said, raising his glass in a welcoming gesture. “It’s been too long since we’ve shared a meal.”
Arthur returned the gesture with a polite smile, his arm resting protectively on the back of Clair’s chair. “The invitation was appreciated. And timely.”
Clair said nothing, her sharp gaze scanning the room as if expecting danger to leap from the shadows. Gus, seated beside her, shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flickering between his parents and the rest of us.
“So,” Kevin said, breaking the uneasy silence, “how’s the pack holding up since…everything?”
Arthur cleared his throat. “We’re managing. Adjusting.” He offered a faint smile in Gus’s direction. “Gus has been a great help with training.”
Gus blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just doing my part,” he mumbled.
The polite exchange didn’t last long. My mother had a knack for steering conversations to the point without being rude, and tonight was no exception.
“We heard the Council meeting left quite an impression,” she said casually, though her sharp gaze betrayed her true intent.
Arthur hesitated, his fingers tightening around his glass. “It certainly raised…questions.”
Clair’s head snapped toward him, her expression a clear warning, but Arthur pressed on.
“The prophecy,” he said carefully, “isn’t just a story, is it?”
The room fell silent.
“Why would you think that?” my father asked, his tone neutral but firm.
Clair’s lips thinned, and she answered, her voice steady but strained. “Because it’s not just the Council talking anymore. There are whispers—about silver immunity, about bloodlines. These aren’t coincidences.”
Arthur cleared his throat, reclaiming the room’s attention. “Christopher,” he said, addressing my father directly, “we’ve known each other a long time. Longer than most here realize.”
My father leaned back in his chair, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “That’s true.”
Arthur glanced at Clair before continuing. “That’s why I trust you. And why I think it’s time we talk about what was brought up at the Council meeting.”
My mother folded her hands on the table, her expression calm but expectant. “Go on.”
Arthur hesitated before placing a steadying hand on Clair’s. “There are things the Council said—about silver immunity, about bloodlines—that struck closer to home than I anticipated. But I think Clair should explain.”
All eyes turned to her. The Iron Lady, as she was called, shifted in her seat, her lips pressing into a thin line before she finally spoke.
“My mother was poisoned with silver,” she began, her voice quiet but firm. “It happened during her pregnancy, though none of us knew at first. She carried the poison until I was born.”
She paused, her gaze dropping to the table. “I didn’t bleed from silver. It didn’t burn me. And later, my father’s betas manipulated me using tea laced with silver. It confused my mind, made me easier to control. That’s when we realized—I was immune.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
Caroline gasped beside me, her hand flying to her mouth. “That’s…that’s what happened to me.”
Every head turned toward her.
“What do you mean?” Clair’s voice was sharp with curiosity.
Caroline glanced at Scarlett as if seeking permission before speaking. “My biological mother, Violet—Christopher’s first mate—was poisoned with silver during her pregnancy. It killed her during childbirth.”
Her voice trembled as she continued. “But I survived. And I’m immune.”
Scarlett placed a comforting hand on Caroline’s arm, her gaze softening. “When Caroline came to us, we didn’t know at first. But months later, when Anthony was born…”
My heart sank as all eyes shifted to me.
“Scarlett, you don’t have to—”
“She should know,” my mother interrupted gently. She met my gaze for a moment before turning back to Clair. “When Anthony was born, there was an accident. I was poisoned with silver before the delivery, and Anthony…he almost didn’t survive. But Caroline’s blood saved him.”
Arthur’s chair creaked as he leaned back, his face a mask of shock. “A transfusion?”
Scarlett nodded. “It gave him her immunity. We didn’t realize it until years later, during training, when Anthony was hit by silver—and nothing happened.”
Her gaze swept over the table. “We’ve kept it a secret ever since.”
The room descended into silence, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire.
Clair leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Caroline. Her usual sharpness softened into something almost vulnerable. “So it’s not just me.”
Caroline’s faint smile was tentative, but there was a spark of relief in her eyes. “No, it’s not just you.”
Arthur exhaled heavily, his shoulders finally relaxing as if a weight had been lifted. “Then it seems we share more than we ever realized. And perhaps…more to protect than we know.”
Scarlett exchanged a glance with Christopher, her eyes heavy with both worry and resolve. She nodded. “We can’t afford to keep secrets from each other anymore. If the Council is already sniffing around, the only way forward is together.”
The unity in her words hit me, but the weight of it pressed harder when my gaze swept around the table—my parents, my sister, Clair’s family, and finally Aurora, who clasped my hand beneath the table. Her touch was warm but tense, the tremble in her fingers betraying her unease.
Arthur broke the silence, rubbing his temples with a frustrated sigh. “We don’t even know if Gus has it. The immunity, I mean. He’s never been exposed to silver.”
Gus straightened, his expression defiant, his jaw tight. “And we’re not about to find out.”
“Of course not,” Clair said quickly, placing a protective hand on her son’s arm.
The exchange was brief, but it left the room feeling heavier. My gaze slid to Aurora. The words slipped from me before I could stop them, low and hesitant. “We don’t know about John, either.”
Aurora tensed beside me, her grip on my hand turning ironclad. Her silence was loud—resistance, fear, and an unspoken plea all rolled into one.
I forced myself to press on. “It’s true. We don’t know if he inherited it. And with everything happening, we can’t ignore the question forever.”
A wave of unease rippled through the room, every face shadowed with the implications.
Then Scarlett gasped, breaking the silence like a sudden thunderclap. “Wait.” Her voice was sharp, almost frantic, her eyes darting between Clair and Caroline. “You both have red hair.”
Clair frowned, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Caroline sat back in her chair, her expression one of shock and disbelief. “You think…it’s about us?”
“It makes sense,” Scarlett said, her voice gaining strength. “A typical wolf poisoned with silver during pregnancy would die. But Clair’s mother—and Violet—both survived long enough to pass something on. Immunity. That’s not a coincidence. It might be in your bloodline—something unique that connects you.”
Arthur’s brow furrowed as he processed this. “Are you saying they’re…related?”
“It’s possible,” Scarlett replied, her tone firm. “Their DNA might hold the answer. It could explain why the Council is paying so much attention to the prophecy now. If this is true, your families might share a connection deeper than any of us realized.”
Caroline’s voice was a whisper, heavy with emotion. “But…if Clair and I are related, how could we not know?”
Christopher leaned forward, his voice calm but thoughtful. “Our packs have been neighbors for generations. Wolves moving between packs after finding their mates isn’t uncommon. It’s possible there’s a link somewhere in your ancestry. If it exists, we’ll uncover it.”
Clair turned to Scarlett, her expression softening, the hardness of her usual demeanor replaced with a quiet determination. “If you’re right…if this prophecy is about us…what does that mean? For our families? For our packs?”
Scarlett’s eyes blazed with intensity, her voice carrying the weight of both hope and fear. “It means you’re more important than you’ve ever known. And if the prophecy is true, you might hold the key to a new era for wolves.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and monumental. No one spoke, the room bathed in the crackling silence of the firelight.
My mind raced, jumping from Clair and Caroline to John, to the Council’s probing questions, to the unknown dangers lurking in the shadows. This was bigger than any of us had imagined.
Aurora’s hand tightened on mine, a silent reminder that I wasn’t facing this alone. Her touch anchored me, grounding the whirlwind in my chest. I looked around the table one last time, meeting each pair of eyes before my voice cut through the silence.
“Whatever happens,” I said, my voice steady, “we’ll figure it out. Together.”
