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SONYA

P ain bloomed hot and vicious in her chest, radiating from the blade Roman had driven into her.

Each heartbeat was a hammer against the wound, but Sonya’s grip on Landon’s hand never faltered.

She felt his strength through their bond, the wild, electric pulse of it flooding into her even as the world around them blurred.

“Finish it,” she breathed, her voice more air than sound.

“If you don’t… it’ll never be over.”

Landon’s eyes burned into hers, golden and blazing, rimmed with desperation.

But behind that desperation now stood a terrifying calm.

A clarity that only came when everything you loved was on the line.

He didn’t speak. He just kissed her forehead—soft, reverent—and laid her down gently on the earth.

Then he turned.

Sonya watched him go, blinking back the encroaching darkness.

Around her, the battlefield was silent.

Every breath, every movement, was drawn to the center—where two alphas were about to settle everything.

Roman had pulled himself back onto all fours, blood running down his side, steam rising from his scorched fur.

Landon walked toward him, tall and terrible, half-man, half-wolf.

The glow of his aura bathed the bloodstained ground in gold.

No more running. No more hiding.

Roman lunged first, teeth bared in a final, savage burst of fury.

Landon met him midair.

The impact shook the earth.

They fought brutally, primal instincts exploding in every strike, but something had changed.

Landon wasn’t just defending anymore—he was dominating.

Where Roman struck out of rage, Landon struck with purpose.

Where Roman faltered, Landon held steady.

Sonya could barely breathe, but her gaze never left the fight.

Blood sprayed the air.

Roman roared and snapped, landed a few good blows—but it wasn’t enough.

Landon’s fury had refined into power, precision.

His movements were sharper, stronger.

His wolf form shimmered like fire forged from the sun, divine and unstoppable.

With a final, thundering slam, Landon knocked Roman to the ground and pinned him there—massive paws pressing against the Alpha’s throat.

Roman struggled. Snarled.

Tried to rise.

He couldn’t.

The battlefield froze.

Sonya didn’t truly know if Roman was too proud to submit or loved himself too much to die.

Dozens of shifters—some half-shifted, some still in full form—stood frozen around them thinking the same thought.

The wind held its breath.

Trees leaned in. The very earth beneath them waited.

Roman’s snarling turned to a low, broken whine.

He bared his throat.

Submission.

The sound that followed was thunderous—not a shout or a cry, but a reverberation through the collective soul of every wolf watching.

The war was over.

Landon stepped back.

The warriors from his side moved in, quick and quiet.

Shackles forged from silver and obsidian snapped around Roman’s wrists.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t even look up.

Others were rounded up—Roman’s remaining loyalists.

Some resisted, but most just dropped their weapons.

Sonya’s father and mother were among them.

Her mother’s gaze caught hers briefly as they were marched past—an unreadable blend of regret and stubborn pride.

At least her cousins weren’t here.

They’d left when they had started to breach this morning, fled before the first blood was spilled.

That counted for something.

She felt a shadow fall over her.

Landon.

He knelt beside her, face lined with exhaustion and something deeper—worry, maybe even guilt.

“I thought maybe… you’d have to kill him.”

His jaw tightened.

“I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But you were right. That cycle ends with us.”

A new presence arrived—an older woman in a deep green cloak, her fingers glowing faintly with healing energy.

The elder healer. One of the rogues who had sworn allegiance to Landon’s side.

“I’ll do what I can,” she murmured, kneeling over Sonya.

“But she needs real rest. And safety.”

They moved her carefully, gently, cradled in Landon’s arms as they made their way to the makeshift infirmary tucked in the hills behind the battlefield.

Sonya drifted in and out—pain dulling, though exhaustion dragged her under like waves.

The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her was Landon, walking beside her, blood coating his skin, fire in his eyes.

And behind him—Roman, shackled and silent.