Chapter 9:face to face
710 Words
The message came at dawn.
_Alpha Damian requests parley. Neutral ground. One Alpha, one Luna, no weapons. Or war starts now._
Cyril crumpled the paper. "He wants to see her."
Selene crossed her arms. "It’s a trap."
"Probably," Cyril said. "But if we say no, he attacks in 10 days anyway. If we go, we buy time. We see what he’s planning."
He looked at me. "It’s your choice, Precious."
I met his eyes. "I’m not scared of him."
"Good," Cyril said. "Because I’m not leaving your side."
---
Halfway between Graywood and Blackpine. Dead trees. Fog.
Perfect for an execution.
Damian was already there.
He looked the same. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. The face I once loved.
But his eyes were different. Cold. Tired.
And beside him... Layla wasn’t.
"Where is she?" I asked before Cyril could speak.
"Safe," Damian said. "For now."
Cyril stepped in front of me. "You don’t get to talk about her like you own her."
Damian’s jaw ticked. Then his eyes moved. Past Cyril. To me.
"Precious."
Hearing my name from him felt like swallowing glass.
"Don’t," I said. "Don’t say my name."
Damian flinched. "I came here to offer a truce."
"After you tried to have me executed?" I laughed. It didn’t sound like me. "What changed?"
"You," Damian said simply. "You’re not dead. You’re with him." He nodded at Cyril. "And Graywood is stronger with you."
Cyril’s hand found the small of my back. "She’s not a bargaining chip."
"I’m not offering for her," Damian said quickly. Too quickly. "I’m offering peace. No war. We keep to our borders. You keep her."
The fog shifted.
I saw it then. The doubt. The regret.
"You’re scared," I said. "Of losing."
Damian didn’t answer.
"Good," I said. "You should be."
Damian looked at me. Really looked. At the sword on my hip. The scars. The way I stood next to Cyril like I belonged.
"I was wrong," he said. Quiet. "About you. About everything."
Cyril tensed.
"Don’t," I said. "Don’t pretend you care now."
"I do care," Damian said. "That’s why I’m here. I don’t want more blood. Layla acted alone. She’ll be punished."
"Layla is in our cells," Cyril said. "Because she snuck into Graywood."
Damian's face went pale. "What?"
"Yeah," I said. "She said you sent her. You didn’t, did you?"
Silence.
Damian closed his eyes. "No."
"Then you don’t control your own pack," Cyril said. "Why should we trust you with peace?"
"Because the alternative is war," Damian said. "And I don’t want to fight you, Cyril. Not for her."
For a second, no one spoke.
Then I stepped forward. Past Damian.
Damian’s eyes widened.
"You don’t get to want me," I said. Soft but cutting. "You gave that up when you held the knife. When you chose her. When you let them drag me out."
"Precious—"
"No." I cut him off. "I’m Graywood now. I’m Cyril’s. And in 2 days, when war starts, I’m the one who’s coming for you."
Damian’s face broke. Just for a second.
"I’m sorry," he whispered.
"Too late," I said.
---
*BACK IN GRAYWOOD*
The ride back was silent.
Until we were in his office.
He shut the door. "You okay?"
"No," I admitted. "But I will be."
He pulled me into his arms. No hesitation. No asking.
I buried my face in his chest.
"He looked old," I mumbled. "Tired."
"He’s losing," Cyril said into my hair. "And he knows it."
I nodded. "I didn’t feel anything. When I saw him. No bond pull. No anger. Just... nothing."
Cyril pulled back. Framed my face with his hands. "That’s growth, Precious."
"Is it?"
"Yeah." He kissed my forehead. Then my cheek. Then stopped right before my lips. "You’re mine now. Not his."
"Yours," I agreed.
The kiss was slow this time. Not storm desperate. Just sure.
Like a promise.
When we broke apart, Selene knocked.
"Uh, sorry. But Layla’s asking for you. Says she has info about the war plan."
Cyril and I looked at each other.
"2 days," I said. "Let’s use them."
---
*BLACKPINE*
Damian punched the tree. "She’s gone."
His beta stepped forward. "Alpha, what do we do?"
Damian looked toward Graywood. "We prepare. Because she’s right. She’s coming."
---
- Writer
