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16

LOGAN

I parked my bike outside the pack’s main lodge, the engine’s rumble fading into the cool, evening silence. The ride home should’ve cleared my head, helped me process. Instead, every mile had only piled on more questions.

I killed the Heraclid alpha’s son.

Damian deserved it, and he’d painted me into a corner with that talk of challenge. The act itself didn’t weigh on me—he’d earned his end a thousand times over, and there’d been no question, no hesitation. Now, with nothing but the sounds of my pack land around me, I felt it—retribution would come.

And for what? The damn fool was half of what he thought he was. Self-righteous, brutal… a waste of space. And the way he had treated Eve was more than enough to write his end.

Eve …

I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The look of relief in her eyes, fear that melted away.

My wolf whined, an insistent pull urging me to go after her, to make sure she was safe, wherever she’d run off to. I knew my pack needed me now more than ever. The responsibility, the weight of leading, tugged against the part of me that wanted nothing more than to follow her scent, to find out what threat had chased her off.

But it was the pack first. Always.

As I made my way up the gravel path toward my office, the weight of it all pressed harder. The Heraclids wouldn’t let this go. They’d send scouts at first, checking for weaknesses. Soon, they’d strike. They’d come for blood, for justice—or at least their twisted version of it. And I’d have to be ready, to stand between them and every life here.

We had to redouble our efforts to mask our numbers.

The lights from the lodge spilled out into the yard, casting long shadows. I climbed the steps, a sense of dread gnawing at my resolve.

The pack would follow me into any fight, but what kind of leader had I become to bring this to our doorstep?

I stopped, realizing the quiet around me wasn’t empty. My wolf tensed as I looked up to see them—every member of my pack, gathered outside the office building, waiting.

Confusion pulsed through me as I marched forward, my mind jumping from threat to threat, imagining the worst—the Heraclids striking already, an ambush, something that had slipped past our defenses. Rhys was standing with Alden, Elder Raina, our lead scout Isabelle, and my enforcers Blair and Killian. I couldn’t read their expressions, and every inch of me braced as I approached .

“Rhys,” I called, pushing through the crowd. I clasped his hand in our customary way, fingers gripping tightly. I searched his face, seeing no alarm there, but I couldn’t shake the dread.

“What happened?” I demanded, barely able to keep the panic from taking me over.

Rhys gave me a warm smile, holding our joined hands before placing both of his on my shoulders. “Everything’s fine, Logan. Better than fine.” His eyes held a spark I hadn’t seen in a long time. “The pack heard about the challenge. They heard you took down Damian.”

“It was a rash move.” I glanced over at Alden and the others. A tight circle was gathering around us with an intensity I hadn’t expected. “When he posed the challenge… I wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t let him?—”

Elder Raina stepped forward, lifting a hand to stop me. “It was exactly what needed to happen, Logan.” She spoke with her typical calm authority that reminded me of the old stories, of alphas who’d faced down rivals and won back their pack’s pride with nothing more than a single, decisive blow.

The others nodded. Alden clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You showed the Orion strength. We needed that boost. The pack went crazy when they heard and everyone had to come to greet you.”

Pack members murmured in agreement, their eyes filled with a pride I hadn’t seen in years. The way they stood there, united, resolute—my heart was full.

“Elves are excellent at spreading news.” Isabelle stepped forward with her tablet. “One of my contacts called in as soon as the fight ended. We weren’t sure what to believe, but after a few other channels confirmed it…”

I rubbed a hand over my jaw, still trying to process.

“You’ve done something for Orion that needed to be done for a long time.” Elder Raina patted my shoulder.

Alden nodded. “The pack already feels it, Logan. The energy’s different.”

I took a deep breath, letting the moment settle, feeling the warmth of the pack’s support around me.

But as I glanced at my inner circle, the weight of the old woman’s words returned, that unsettling declaration about Orion.

They need to know all of this might be because of a curse.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” I murmured.

Raina shook her head, her expression soft, almost maternal. “There will be time for other matters, Logan,” she said gently, her hand resting on my arm. “Right now, what this pack needs more than anything is a moment of joy. To breathe, to feel the strength we thought was gone.”

Her smile grew, and she looked at the others gathered, each of them nodding in silent agreement.

“Let them feel the pride of Orion again, in the way we once did.”

She was right. I glanced over at Rhys, who gave me a small nod, and then at Alden. They knew as well as I did—our pack been on edge for so long, tied in knots of worry, struggling with the losses we’d endured. And now… maybe she was right. They deserved a night like the ones we used to have, nights filled with the thrill of being part of something larger th an themselves.

I lifted my head, my chest swelling as I straightened up, feeling the weight lift enough to let the words come freely.

“A celebration,” I said, loud enough for the pack members close by to hear. The buzz of conversations stilled. I raised my voice, each word a promise, ringing out in the early twilight. “Tonight, we honor what it means to be Orion!”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, faces lighting up, a few hands clapping in early enthusiasm.

“We are hunters ,” I continued, finding my stride, each phrase pulled from memories of my father’s words, tales told under the stars. “We’re bound to our ancestors, the warriors who’ve come before, who lived by their strength, by their pride, by their pack. And today, like our hunters of old, we’ve challenged an enemy, fought with dignity, and won.” I looked out over the crowd. “Tonight, we celebrate that victory!”

A triumphant cheer exploded, rippling through the gathered wolves like wildfire. Packmates clapped each other on the back, hugged, some throwing their heads back to let loose long, jubilant howls. Rhys grinned, pulling me into a rough embrace, clapping me on the back.

Raina’s smile grew, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Tonight, Alpha,” she said, almost like an invocation, “we remind them not only what it means to be part of Orion, but what it means to follow you .”

I took a moment, letting the noise wash over me, feeling their loyalty, their relief. For the first time in longer than I could remember, Orion would taste victory in all its forms, and for one night, we’d live like the pack we used to be.

Tonight, we’d be Orion again.

The Moonstone Plateau was alive, pulsing with a joy we hadn’t felt in ages. A fire roared at the center, casting a warm orange glow across the gathered pack. Long tables were laden with more food than I’d seen in months, our hunters and gatherers bringing out our finest provisions—roasted venison, rich stews, fresh berries piled high, baskets of warm bread that filled the air with a scent so comforting it was almost like home itself. The fire crackled, embers rising toward the starlit sky.

But I couldn’t fully live in the moment.

Eve.

Where was she? My eyes darted across the crowd, searching for a flash of her dark hair, the familiar set of her shoulders, just in case she appeared.

The joy of the pack surrounded me, infectious and overwhelming, but it couldn’t dull the sharp edge of unease twisting in my chest. Was she tending to her wounds? Avoiding crowds? Avoiding me?

Nearby, Rhys was entertaining a circle with one of his stories, gesturing wildly, drawing laughter from even the most reserved of our pack. I caught snippets of his tale, something about a fox and a stubborn elk, but my mind couldn’t stay with it. It drifted, unbidden, to the fantasy of Eve standing here, beside me.

She should be here. She belongs here.

At the edges of the gathering, I caught sight of couples slipping off into the shadows of the nearby trees, stolen moments and whispered promises exchanged in the privacy of the forest. For a second, I imagined Eve there with me, teasing me for being so damn brooding as her hand explored down my chest, down my torso, pulling me into the darkness of the forest.

The image flickered and faded, leaving only the ache of her absence.

A group of children played in the shadows, darting in and out of sight, their giggles blending with the low hum of drums and the strumming of a guitar. Some of the youngest drifted off to sleep, curled up against their parents’ shoulders, tiny hands fisting into their parents’ shirts as they dreamed in a place finally free of fear.

For them, this moment was whole, unbroken. I wished I could feel it the same way.

This night was close to perfect, the closest I could remember. Orion was mine to protect, mine to make proud, and this night was the closest to perfect that I could remember.

Still, it wasn’t complete. Not without her.

Eve. My wolf whispered her name into the night.