When we are one

Chapter 23 corbin

Dinner ends with the usual hum of pack chatter, but my focus stays fixed on Anika. The room may be full, but she’s my anchor—and tonight, there’s something heavy pressing on her spirit.

I don’t push her to speak. Not yet.

Instead, I take her hand and lead her out through the side doors, past the gardens and toward the stables. The moonlight casts soft silver over her hair, and Ezra hums with approval at the sight. She’s breathtaking, he whispers, and I agree with every part of me.

We saddle up my black gelding, Storm, and I pull her up to sit in front of me. The warmth of her body rests against mine, but she still shivers. Not from the chill of the night air—but something deeper. Fear. Dread.

We ride into the darkness, the rhythm of hooves like a steady drumbeat against the earth. The forest around us hums with life, but there's a stillness within Anika that unnerves me more than any threat lurking in the trees.

Her body trembles slightly, and I tighten my arms around her waist. “You're shaking,” I murmur into her hair.

She doesn’t answer right away. Her silence says more than words ever could.

“You’re not alone in this,” I remind her. “Whatever we find with the witch—whatever comes next—we face it together.”

Still, she doesn’t meet my gaze. The strong, feral woman I’ve seen face off with warriors, rogues, and her own trauma is retreating.

Ezra growls softly in my mind. She fears her strength. She fears what it might cost her.

And I understand now. It’s not weakness that haunts Anika. It’s the knowledge of just how powerful she truly is—and what might happen if she loses control.

“Anika,” I say gently, “are you afraid of what’s coming—or of what you already know you can do?”

Her breath hitches, and for a long moment, she doesn’t answer. Then she leans back into me, eyes forward as the trees blur past.

“Both,” she whispers. “I’ve always been afraid of what I am.”

I press a kiss to her shoulder. “Then let me be the one who reminds you of who you really are.”

She finally turns to look at me, the moonlight catching the shine of tears she won’t let fall. But her nod is small and sure.

We ride deeper into the woods, toward the edge of our territory, toward the secrets that might just save—or destroy—everything we love.

We arrive at the edge of the northern forest, where the trees grow ancient and the air thickens with magic. The horses paw the earth uneasily, sensing the shift. Ezra stiffens in my mind, alert.

Anika slides down first, her body still tense beneath my hands. I follow, keeping her close. The witch’s cabin looms ahead, crooked and weather-worn, as if it grew out of the earth itself. Vines crawl up the sides, and an eerie mist coils at the doorstep like a silent guardian.

We push open the door and step inside—and there she is. The infamous forest witch.

Gretel.

She sits in a creaking wooden chair, long, claw-like nails rhythmically tapping the table, her tea steaming in a chipped porcelain cup. She isn’t casting spells or muttering incantations. No. She’s just… waiting.

Like she’s always known we would come.

“Time is of the essence, young ones,” she says, her voice husky and amused, a smirk stretching across her lined face.

Anika steps forward. “Yes, sorry Gretel.”

Wait—Gretel?

Ezra’s ears twitch. She knows her name.

I narrow my eyes, questions rushing forward like a flood. How does Anika know her? What else is she keeping buried? But Gretel cuts through my thoughts like a knife through fog.

“Anika,” she croons. “We meet again. How are those gloves holding up, dear?”

Anika freezes. I see the color drain slightly from her face. “They’re… holding up. You did a fine job on them.”

The gloves. The ones she always wears, even in the heat. Something inside me coils.

Gretel cackles softly and takes a sip of her tea. “Well good, dear. I told you they’d last. Now,” she sets the cup down and laces her fingers together, nails clicking like bones, “let’s see what I can do for you this time.”

Anika swallows hard, but nods. “We need help protecting the pack… and our children. They’re not just ordinary pups.”

“Oh, I know,” Gretel says smoothly, standing and stepping closer. “They carry more than blood, more than bond. The gods are watching, and so are others.” Her eyes flick to me. “You’ve come not just for protection—but for understanding.”

Ezra rumbles in my mind, deeply unsettled.

She knows too much.

Anika reaches for my hand. Her fingers tremble in mine.

“You’re both part of a prophecy much older than you think,” Gretel whispers, placing a palm just above Anika’s belly. Her eyes glow faintly. “And if you want to survive what’s coming… you’ll need more than wards and wolf strength.”

I steel myself, my grip tightening. “What do we need?”

Gretel grins. “To begin with? Truth. All of it. From her,” she says, motioning to Anika. “From you. And from the past you’ve both been running from.”

Anika looks at me, guilt flickering in her eyes.

And I realize—we’re not just here to protect our future.

We’re here to confront our past.