Chapter 8: The Pack at the Gates
1635 Words
The gates of Vossgaard were massive—carved from black stone, covered in ancient runes, tall enough to fit a dragon through.
And standing in front of them was the entire Silver Moon Pack.
Well, almost the entire pack. Maybe fifty wolves, all in human form, all looking angry and determined. And at their head, of course, was Damien.
He looked furious. His jaw was tight, his eyes were dark, his hands were curled into fists at his sides. Next to him was Lila—pale, weak-looking, leaning on Damien's arm like she could barely stand.
Elara's first thought was: She doesn't look that sick.
Her second thought was: Oh, this is going to be bad.
Kairos stepped forward, his power rolling off him in waves, dark and heavy and kingly. The Silver Moon Pack wolves flinched. A few bowed their heads.
Damien didn't.
"Kairos Voss," he said, his voice tight with anger. "I demand you return my betrothed to me. Immediately."
"Your betrothed?" Kairos raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware you had one. Last I heard, you rejected Elara Thorne three years ago. Chose another. A weaker one, if I remember correctly."
Damien's face turned red. "That was a mistake."
"Was it?" Kairos's voice was cold, sharp, dangerous. "Because it sounded pretty final to me. 'Too strong,' you said. 'Not Luna material.' Ring any bells?"
Elara's eyes widened.
How did he know that?
She'd never told him. Had she?
Wait. He'd said he could smell the heartbreak on her. But could he smell the exact words too?
That was... creepy.
And also a little bit hot.
No. Bad Elara. Not the time.
Damien's jaw tightened. "That was before I knew—"
"Knew what? That she was the Blessed Healer? That she was more powerful than you could ever imagine?" Kairos stepped closer, and Damien had to tilt his head back to look at him. "You threw her away because she was too strong. And now you want her back because she's useful. Is that it?"
The Silver Moon Pack wolves murmured among themselves. They didn't know? They didn't know Damien had rejected her?
Interesting.
"That's not true," Damien said, but his voice was weaker now. Less sure.
"Isn't it?" Kairos turned to the pack. "Is this the kind of alpha you want? One who throws away his betrothed because she's too strong? One who comes crawling back when he realizes what he lost? One who would use her power for his own gain?"
The pack murmured louder. A few of them looked at Damien with doubt in their eyes.
Damien was losing them.
And fast.
"Elara," he said, turning to her, his voice desperate. "Tell them. Tell them it's not like that. Tell them you love me. That you want to come home."
All eyes turned to Elara.
She took a deep breath.
This was it.
The moment she'd been waiting for, for three years.
The moment she got to tell him no.
Properly.
Publicly.
Spectacularly.
"Damien," she said, stepping forward, her voice clear and strong. "I don't love you. I never loved you. Not really. I thought I did, once. But that was before I realized you'd never love me back. Not the real me. The strong me. The 'too much' me."
She paused, letting the words sink in.
"You rejected me. You chose Lila. You told me I was too strong. Not Luna material. And you know what? You were right."
Damien blinked. "I was?"
"Yes." Elara smiled, sharp and bright and unapologetic. "I am too strong. Too much. Too powerful. Not for you, Damien. For any alpha. Except maybe one."
She glanced at Kairos. He was watching her, his golden eyes dark with pride. And something else. Something warm.
Something that felt a lot like want.
"I'm not going back to Silver Moon Pack," she said, turning back to Damien. "I'm not going to be your Luna. I'm not going to be anyone's quiet, obedient little healer. I'm better than that. I'm more than that. And you're never going to be good enough for me."
The pack went silent.
Damien stared at her, his mouth open, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
And then Lila stepped forward.
She was still pale. Still weak-looking. But her eyes were sharp. Angry.
"You b***h," she said, her voice cold. "You think you're so special, don't you? Just because you have a little healing magic? You think you can steal my mate?"
Elara raised an eyebrow. "Steal him? Honey, I don't want him. You can have him. He's all yours. Enjoy."
Lila's face twisted with rage. "You think you're better than me? Just because you're 'blessed'? You're nothing. A freak. A monster. Just like him."
She nodded toward Kairos.
The pack murmured.
Kairos's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists.
Elara stepped in front of him, her chin held high.
"Don't you dare talk about him like that," she said, her voice cold. "You don't know anything about him. You don't know anything about any of us."
"Oh, I know enough." Lila smiled, sharp and mean. "I know he's cursed. I know everyone who loves him dies. And I know you're next, Blessed Healer or not."
Elara's stomach dropped.
She knew.
How did she know?
Most people didn't know about the curse. It was a royal secret.
Unless...
Unless someone had told her.
Someone who wanted to cause trouble.
Someone like Valerius.
Elara's eyes narrowed. "Who told you that?"
"Does it matter?" Lila stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, so only Elara could hear. "The point is, he's going to kill you. Just like he killed all the others. And when he does... Damien will be waiting. For you. Always."
Elara stared at her.
That was... weird.
Creepy weird.
What was wrong with these people?
Before she could respond, Kairos stepped forward, putting himself between Elara and Lila.
"That's enough," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You have five seconds to get off my land. Or I'll have my guards throw you off."
Lila smiled. "You can't threaten us. We're a sovereign pack. You have no jurisdiction—"
"Five." Kairos held up one finger. "Four. Three."
Damien grabbed Lila's arm. "Come on. Let's go."
"But—"
"Now, Lila."
He pulled her away, and the rest of the pack followed, their heads down, their tails between their legs (metaphorically speaking).
They didn't look like they were leaving for good, though.
They looked like they'd be back.
And next time, they wouldn't come alone.
Elara watched them go, her stomach tight with unease.
"That was... intense," she said.
Kairos turned to her. His expression was soft. Worried.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "She didn't hurt you, did she?"
"Me? No. I'm fine." Elara smiled, small. "I'm more worried about you. What she said... about the curse..."
Kairos's jaw tightened. "It's nothing. Just rumors."
"Rumors that are true."
He was quiet for a long moment.
"Yeah," he said finally. "They're true."
He looked at her, his golden eyes dark with pain.
"She's right, you know. Everyone who gets close to me dies. Every mate I've ever had. Every friend. Everyone I've ever cared about. The curse... it takes them. One by one."
Elara's heart ached.
She reached out, touching his arm. "That's not true. I'm here. And I'm not dead."
"Yet."
"Yet." She smiled, small. "But I have a feeling I'm going to break the pattern."
Kairos stared at her. And then he laughed—a bitter, broken laugh.
"You're insane," he said.
"Probably." She shrugged. "But you like it."
He didn't deny it.
He just looked at her, his golden eyes dark and intense and full of something that felt a lot like hope.
And for a second, Elara thought he was going to kiss her.
He leaned in. She leaned in. Their lips were almost touching—
"Your Majesty!"
Rook came running toward them, his face pale, his breath coming in gasps.
"It's the council," he said. "They're here. And they're not happy."
Kairos sighed. "Great. Just what I need."
"What do they want?" Elara asked.
"To see you." Rook looked at her, his expression serious. "Word has spread. About the Blessed Healer. About what you did at the village. About... everything. They want to meet you. And they want to know what your intentions are."
"My intentions?" Elara blinked. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Kairos said, his voice hard. "They want to know if you're a threat. Or an asset. Or... something else."
"Something else?"
Kairos didn't answer. He just looked at her, his golden eyes dark and unreadable.
And Elara had a feeling this was about to get a whole lot more complicated.
The council.
The Blessed Healer.
The prophecy.
All of it.
She'd walked right into the middle of something huge.
Something that had been building for a thousand years.
And she had no idea if she was ready for it.
But she was going to find out.
One way or another.
"Come on," Kairos said, taking her hand. "Let's go meet the council. And try not to let them intimidate you. They're all bark and no bite. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Mostly."
He smiled, and it was sharp and dangerous and just a little bit reassuring.
Elara took a deep breath.
She could do this.
She was the Blessed Healer.
She was going to be queen.
She could handle a stuffy old council.
Right?
Right.
Probably.
Maybe.
Well, there was only one way to find out.
She squeezed Kairos's hand.
"Let's do this," she said.
And together, they walked back into the palace.
Ready to face whatever came next.
Whatever it was.
They'd face it together.
Or at least, Elara hoped they would.
She had a feeling the council was going to have other ideas.
- Writer
