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She hangs there like a sacrifice, her only movement the dripping of gore.

Sascha lets out the first breath. As if given permission, Beryl roars at Celeste’s corpse, teeth slick with their cruel former alpha’s blood. Petra disappears, then reappears with another medical blanket, which she drapes over Avery’s shoulders.

Averythinkshe hears Sascha begin to argue with his father, but his eyes are riveted on Celeste’s limp remains. Was this the outcome the fox alpha feared from the beginning? Avery never wanted to overthrow another alpha—but it was irrelevant, because the already-tenuous state of leading a were-pack made the potential threat not worth the risk, even if it meant going back on a promise. Even if it meant throwing someone fresh and vulnerable onto the streets with no one and nothing.

Would this be Avery’s fate if he’d ever succeeded in forming his own pack? His gaze shifts to Beryl, then the rest of the Wilderness werecreatures, clustered behind Zuhr on the platform. Could death be an inevitable future at the clawed hands of a pack who could turn on their alpha with the changing winds?

Or does the truth lie closer, somewhere within the shadows where Avery stands?

So much emphasis is placed on raw strength, the alpha’s ability to control their pack, without enough light shed on the pack itself, without whom the alpha would be…

Nothing. No one.

Struck by fierce understanding, Avery takes Sascha’s hand and drags him into the sunlight.

They can’t look particularly intimidating, worn out and naked aside from blankets, but Avery levels Samuel with a stare full of genuine confidence rather than terrified bravado.

“Your ally is dead. She tried to kill your son, and I won’t let you blame that on me.” Samuel only stares, which is fine,because Avery has so much more to say. “You act like all an alpha should be is a bulletproof hand of authority with no visible flaws, no weakness to risk losing respect over. Yet you lead your pack into danger because you’re afraid ofus. Because you think werecreatures will destroy you, one way or another. Soyourfear somehow makes us inferior. Don’t tell me you can’t see how fucked up that is.

“Take a good fucking look around you, Samuel. Celeste might have been strong, but she was domineering and vicious. She didn’t give a shit about her pack, only her arrogance and ambition. And what did she do with that? She almost killed someone you love, because not a damn thing meant more than her pride. Dominating her pack was her only goal, and that’s why she lost control—because being an alpha is more than dominance. You don’t have anyone to dominate when your pack is tired of your never-ending bullshit.

“You don’t want me around? You don’t want to give Sascha a chance to lead your stupid fucking pack? Fine. We’ll start our own, and we’ll be better than Celesteandyou put together.”

Sascha inhales sharply, turning toward Avery. “What are you… Avery, are you serious?”

Avery swallows hard. “I am. If you want to.”

There’s pain in Sascha’s eyes when he turns to his father, searching the alpha’s face. Samuel’s blank expression doesn’t crack. Brow furrowing, Sascha says, “Yeah. I do.”

“Who will you lead?” Samuel asks calmly. “Who will follow you?”

“I will.” Petra comes forward, stopping next to Sascha and slightly behind. “Any pack needs a healer. I’d recommend you find a new one, Samuel.”

Beryl produces an irritable yowl, then cuts through the narrow space between Samuel and the first stand of their fragile new pack. They deliberately bump into him, knockinghim a few steps back. Then they wrap their long spine behind Petra and Sascha, settling beside Avery.

Avery shifts his attention to the shifter packs, then looks higher, toward the werecreatures. “Any of you are welcome to join us. I swear, you’ll all be treated with the respect you deserve. I’m sorry you didn’t receive it before now.”

In the silence that follows, Avery worries he’s misjudged the situation. Though all eyes are on him, no one moves, even to consult those around them. It could, after all, be that despite mutual hatred, their individual species expect the same things from an alpha: Strength. Perfection. Not a small-statured trans man or a disabled man with unpredictable moments of weakness.

And then Zuhr steps toward the railing. She looks over her shoulder at the other werecreatures, then jumps to land gracefully on the ground below. Her head sits high on her shoulders, chin raised as she weaves through the crowd of shifters, stopping next to Beryl.

A moment later, another of the werecreatures, a young-looking Asian man, throws a leg over the railing and climbs down the wall. He approaches with trembling hands, jaw clenched, then tucks himself behind Zuhr’s shoulder. Immediately after, one of the larger wolf shifters shoves its way to the front of the crowd, ignoring the many surprised looks—including Avery’s own—until it stops next to Zuhr and the werecreature whose taller head is visible behind hers.

Samuel grimly watches the proceedings. When no one else steps forward to join them, he tilts his head at Sascha and says, “Is this really your choice?”

Sascha’s fingers tighten around Avery’s. “Yeah, Dad. It is.”

“Fine, then.” Samuel rotates, considering the werecreatures who elected to not join Avery and Sascha, then the members of his own pack and the Wilderness wolves, now in need of an alpha. Finally, he turns back to his son. “You will be permitted to return to the Madison pack landsonce more to receive your belongings, which I will have packed for you. I’ll give you everything you’re entitled to from Denise’s will, and what you would have inherited from your grandparents. After you’ve collected what you own and are owed, you will leave Bliss Township and never return. You are no longer my son, and aren’t allowed in proximity to any member of the Madison pack. Anyone who is caught still associating with you should hope they’re welcome in your pack because they will no longer be part of mine.”

Avery nearly crushes Sascha’s hand in his own, and has to frown hard at the ground when Sascha responds, “Understood, sir.”

Samuel nods, then turns his back on the man who was once his only son. “We’re leaving,” he informs his pack.

The cougars follow him, and after a moment, so do the wolves. Avery wonders what will happen to the Wilderness pack now, but it’s not his concern. Never was, really. The only people who matter anymore are the defectors who’ve placed themselves beside himself and Sascha, accepting them as their new alphas.

Neither Avery nor Sascha budge until the last cougar and the last wolf are out of sight. The clearing is silent but for the wind, rustling leaves and twigs, causing Celeste’s gore-soaked dress to sway slightly as it bakes in the heat.

When Avery can’t bear the tension any longer, he forces a smile, tightens the blanket around his waist, and tugs Sascha with him to greet the members of their new pack.