When we are one

Chapter 19 Corbin

The moment I step through the pack house door, something feels off.

Too quiet. Too still.

I move down the hallway, and that’s when I hear her.

“Briar, I’m not pregnant. I can’t be. What am I going to do?”

Ezra stills.

Then something snaps.

“Pregnant?” he repeats, the word echoing like a thunderclap. “Ours?”

He’s already pushing against my skin, trying to take control, tail lashing in fury.

“It can only be ours,” he growls. “She’s carrying our pups. The gods have given us more than a mate—they’ve given us a legacy.”

But the pride is immediately drowned by rage when Briar speaks next.

“If you need to go, I know a place. It’s safe. Hidden. No one would find you there.”

“He’s helping her run?”

Ezra’s snarl rips from my throat before I can stop it.

The sound startles them. Their conversation halts. Silence falls.

I step into the room like a shadow made of fury.

Anika turns slowly. “Corbin…”

Her voice is small. Fragile. And it nearly undoes me.

But Ezra is boiling, his thoughts layered over mine like a second heartbeat.

“She was going to leave us. With our pups.”

I stare down Briar like he’s the enemy. I don’t say a word—I don’t have to. He knows. His spine stiffens.

“Alpha,” he offers.

I grab the back of his shirt before he can slink away.

“You don’t walk away from this,” I say lowly.

“He betrayed us.”

Ezra’s voice is ice in my mind. “She should only run to us. Not away.”

“You were helping her leave?” I ask, though I already know.

“She’s scared,” Briar says, eyes hard with conviction. “I wasn’t going to let her go alone.”

“And the pups? Were you going to tell me, or just help her disappear with them?”

His silence is enough.

Ezra lets out a guttural growl that rumbles through my chest. I shove Briar toward the door. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Once he’s gone, I turn to Anika—and Ezra goes still. Watching. Waiting.

She looks like she’s going to break. Her arms are crossed over her stomach, as if she’s protecting it. Protecting them.

“Corbin—” she begins.

“No more running,” I growl.

Her breath hitches.

Ezra steps forward through our bond, and his voice softens in my head.

“She was afraid. Like we are. But she’s ours. She chose us—she’s still choosing us. We just have to remind her we’re not going anywhere.”

I take a slow step forward. “You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t know,” she whispers, tears brimming in her eyes. “I only just started to feel—different. I didn’t want to believe it. And when Briar said—”

“You were going to vanish without a word?” I murmur. “Even after everything we’ve been through?”

“I was trying to protect you. And the pack. I didn’t want my curse to bring them down.”

“You’re not a curse.”

Ezra’s voice cuts in sharply, primal and unyielding.

“You’re salvation. You’re the reason we’re still breathing.”

I close the distance and cup her face in my hands. “You don’t get to leave me, Anika. Not now. Not ever.”

She trembles. “Corbin…”

I press my forehead to hers, our bond pulsing between us like a live wire. Ezra brushes against Silvara through the bond, feeling her heartbeat echo ours.

“Our mate. Our future. And now… our pups.”

Ezra goes quiet, and for once, so do I.

Because there’s nothing left to say.

Only the thunder of a truth we can’t run from.

I cup her face, and for a moment, we just breathe—our foreheads pressed together, her trembling beneath my hands.

Ezra’s presence calms, but he lingers at the surface, unwilling to retreat. His instincts are sharp, protective, possessive. And I feel it too—this overwhelming need to keep her close, to shield her from everything, even herself.

But she’s still fighting it. I can feel it in the way she’s holding back.

“You’re afraid,” I whisper.

“I’ve always been afraid,” she says, voice breaking. “But this is different. It’s not just me anymore. If I stay, if I carry this child here… I could bring death to all of you.”

Ezra growls again, but this time it’s not anger—it’s anguish.

“She still sees herself as the storm,” he murmurs. “Not the light.”

“You are not death, Anika,” I say, my thumb brushing her cheek. “You survived it. You walked through hell and came back. Don’t you see? You were never the curse. You were the warning.”

Her breath shudders.

I lower my hands to her belly, resting my palms lightly, reverently, over where new life may already stir. “This… this is a beginning. Not an end.”

Tears fall silently from her lashes.

And for once—she doesn’t pull away.