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The metallic stink of blood still clings to my gums when the first footsteps crunch through the debris behind us. Kendall’s spine stiffens against my arm before I even turn. Smart girl.

Five wolves step out of the pines—two in tattered leathers, three still half-shifted with claws out. The tallest, a russet-furred brute with a scar splitting his lip, nods at the fresh starburst burns puckering my forearms. “Heard you cut throat ties with Mathis. You rallying a pack or just playing house with the silver-streaked Bolvi?”

Kendall’s fingers lace with mine, thumb digging into the battle-grime caked over my knuckles. Her pulse thrums against my palm—fast but steady. I keep my shoulders relaxed, the alpha posture Mathis drilled into me since I first sprouted claws at thirteen. “Mathis breathes down your neck one too many times, Nik?”

The scarred shifter—Nikolai—snorts. “They’re burning dens in the north valleys. Humans with silver-tipped bullets and politicians grinning at press conferences.” One of the werewolves behind him, a wiry woman missing two fingers, spits at the ground. “Your father’s 'stay hidden' bullshit got my sister caged in a lab.”

Kendall steps forward, that silver streaks in her hair catching moonlight like a blade. “And you think Callum’s your backup dancer now? We just bled out six rogues in the gulch.” It’s an exaggeration, but they don’t know that.

Nikolai’s smirk falters. Good. Let them see the fire in her.

“You got better ideas, princesa ? Or you just his pretty leash?”

Her snarl vibrates against my ribs before I feel it. I squeeze her hand, stepping between them. “You want to swear fealty or poke the wolf who just chewed through half a militia? Choose. Now.”

The missing-fingered woman drops first, knee cracking against gravel. Nikolai hesitates, eyes darting to the crimson streaks painting Kendall’s throat.

She tilts her head, all vicious grace. “We’ve got bourbon at the bunker. And Band-Aids for fragile egos.”

It’s the half-smile that undoes them—the way her hip bumps mine like we’re sharing a filthy joke. I don’t know what has finally broke loose in Kendall, but her claim as a leader has made her somehow more relaxed. I love it.

Nikolai sinks down, forehead almost touching my boot. “Alpha.”

The word tastes like a lie and a vow. Kendall’s thumb traces my wristbone under the sleeve.

“Find Elias,” I growl. “He’ll bunk you in the old mill. We strategize at dawn.”

They melt into the shadows. The second their footsteps fade, Kendall’s breath ghosts my ear. “So when exactly did you plan to tell me we’re nesting leaders?”

I spin her against the nearest oak, my palms caging her hips. Bark crumbles under her grip. “You held my hand like a fucking lifeline. Don’t act brand new. You were made for this, and you know it.”

Her laugh is whiskey-warm with acceptance of who she is. FInally.

I brush her silver streak aside, knuckles skimming the shell of her ear.

Her teeth graze my jugular. “The cabin’s two miles uphill. That is unless you want to bunk with everyone else tonight.”

We run like the forest is giving chase—all snapping branches and stolen breath. She elbows past me at the ridge, her laughter sharp as the wind razzing through the pines.

It's a freedom I've never felt, and I've never seen her enjoy. Not with all that has happened. But now, even if the unknown ahead, for right now, we're free. Together.

Kendall veers left where the dirt path forks, her combat boots skidding on pine needles. Moonlight turns her hair into a comet tail. "Cabin can wait." She heads to the riverbank.

The river's not singing—it’s purring. Phosphorescent algae swirl around our ankles as we stumble to the bank, water glowing like liquid starlight. She collapses against a boulder still warm from yesterday’s sun, yanking me down by my belt loop. My knuckles dig into moss.

“Still got battle stink in your hair,” she mutters, nose scrunched.

I rub a handful of silt between our joined palms. “And you’re crusted in blood and bad decisions.”

She flicks water at me. The droplets catch blue light midair. “You chose me, trusted me to lead in front of a pack of feral dipshits that were only brought together by the promise of war and fear.” Her boot nudges my thigh. “Everyone now knows what I am. What Adora is…”

The truth claws up my throat before I can muzzle it. “And they still bowed down to you and saw you lead them. That means more than the legends of your bloodline. I think their in for a hell of a ride and a lot of them don't want to miss it.”

She gives me a smile and I finally can't hold back anymore.

“I love you.” It comes out in a low throaty affectionate growl.

Her eyes widen for a moment but the smile spreads, but she remains silent.

I tilt her chin up. “Say it back. Or don’t. Doesn’t change the?—”

“I love you. Since before I even knew what it meant.” Her teeth flash. “It scares me and scared me then because I know this is different. This is real. It's?—”

"Forever," I finish.

Our mouths crash. Every battle-scraped inch ignites—her nails raking my nape, my fist twisting in her bloody shirt. She tastes like copper and the river hums louder.

“Here,” she gasps against my lips. “Now.”

Jeans hit the water. My palm slides up her ribcage, catching the underwire of her sports bra. She bites my earlobe. “Rip it.” The fabric shreds—two claw-tipped yanks.

Her teeth sink into my shoulder. Not playful. Blood wells. “Mine first,” she pants.

I pin her wrists above her head. “That a challenge?”

“Promise.” Her hips roll. “Hurry up and lose.”

The world narrows to slick skin and fevered breath. Her gasp rasps against my throat when my teeth graze her collarbone. When my mouth closes over a nipple, she arches like a drawn bowstring, a feral sound escaping her as my calloused palms haul her hips higher.

We don’t fuck gentle. Can’t. Her legs hook around me, heels digging into the small of my back as I surge into her. She’s all wet heat and ragged moans, body clenching like she wants to carve herself into my bones. Her nails rake down my spine. Harder. I oblige, slamming her back against the riverbank, the current sluicing over stone as we move—a brutal, bruising rhythm. Pebbles bite into her shoulder blades. She’s laughing through gritted teeth, furious and bright.

The moon bleaches her hair silver, turning her into something wilder than blood or bone. My hand fists in those tangled waves, pulling her head back. “I want to claim you,” I growl against her pulse. “Not just your skin. Your fucking soul. ”

Her hips buck, desperate. “Do it.”

I drag my tongue over the swollen curve of her mating gland. She thrashes, muscles coiling. “You know what this means?” I snarl.

“Yes—” Her knees clamp against my ribs. “Stories. Laws. The way your fucking kind howls about it online?—”

A laugh rips out of me. My kind. As if she isn’t teeth and claws now too. My canines break skin, the metallic tang of her blood flooding my mouth as my cock drives deeper. Kendall screams, back bowing, fingers clawing at the riverbed. Not fear. Not pain. Possession. Her teeth slam into my shoulder, mangling flesh as her legs shake around me.

Now, we are both claimed, both bonded in a way that will never be undone and now… everyone will know. I fucking love it because she's mine.

My mate. The word isn’t human. It’s a snarl from somewhere older—the rumble of tectonic plates. Our blood swirls in the water, iridescent under the moon.

She breaks first, a raw shout torn from her throat as her claws shred my back. I follow, fucking her through it, her name a litany lost to the river’s roar. The aftershocks feel like dying. Like resurrection. Her breath hitches against my ruined shoulder—a wet, fractured sound.

Forever, I'd said. The word tastes like a vow. Like a war.

We slump in the shallows. Her palm drifts across my sternum. “Mathis finds out you’ve bonded…”

“Mathis can sniff my ass at the next council meeting.”

She snorts. Drags my hand to her throat. “Guess your pack’s stuck with this Bolvi.”

The claiming marks throb in sync. “Wasn’t a pack till now. And it's ours.”

Kendall tugs my earlobe with her teeth. “Round two before the council meeting?”

I flip her into the current. Her laughter echoes.

Finest goddamn prize I’ve ever staked my claim on. Now the world’s our dominion, and the hell knows where that road might bend.