Chapter 2: Haunting Horns
820 Words
The moonlight filtered through the nursery windows, casting silver shapes on the walls. Johnson slept, curled against Grace's chest, his tiny breath warm and rhythmic.
But Grace couldn't sleep.
She sat in the rocking chair, gaze fixed on the night sky beyond the glass, mind tangled in memories.
“Grace," Ethan murmured from the doorway.
She didn't look at him.
He stepped closer. “The feast… I saw your face. I know you're angry."
“I'm not angry," she said quietly. “I'm afraid."
Ethan blinked. “Of what?"
“Of you."
Silence.
Then Ethan exhaled, jaw flexing. “You think I've become a monster."
“No," she said. “I think you're becoming the boy I found that night. Lost, bleeding, too broken to move."
Ethan stiffened. “Don't—"
“I remember the horns," Grace cut in. “Three years ago. I remember waking to the sound of death."
Ethan stared at the floor.
“You told Caroline everything," Grace continued. “You let her in."
“She tricked me."
“You let her trick you."
His fists clenched. “I was trying to secure peace! She spoke like someone who understood war. I— I didn't see what she was doing."
Grace rose, placing Johnson in the crib. “You gave her our maps."
“I didn't know she was Shadowhowl!"
“You gave her our maps, Ethan. You let her walk away with them." Her voice trembled. “Do you know how many died because of that mistake?"
He turned away. “My father."
“Yes. And ten border guards. Four pups. Half our winter stockpile. And you— you were ready to disappear into the ash."
Ethan whispered, “I would've, if you hadn't come for me."
Grace crossed the room, gently placing a hand on his arm. “I believed in you. When the elders called for your punishment, I stood in the ashes and wiped your face clean."
“I remember," he said hoarsely.
“You told me that night," Grace murmured, “that you'd never forget what it cost to lose compassion."
Ethan swallowed hard. “I haven't forgotten."
She stared at him. “Then why does it feel like you have?"
---
Flashback.
Three winters ago, the citadel ruins were still smoking. Grace stumbled through blackened rubble, her hands raw from lifting beams and shattered stone.
“Ethan?" she called, coughing. “Ethan!"
A soft groan answered from beneath a broken stair.
She ran.
There he was—Ethan, curled beside his father's fallen armor. His fingers were streaked with soot and blood, his face unrecognizable beneath ash and tear tracks.
He didn't even flinch when she knelt beside him.
“Get up," she whispered, brushing hair from his eyes. “They're going to kill you if they find you like this."
He said nothing.
“Look at me." She gripped his chin. “You are still Ironclaw's alpha. You are still the boy who protected me when we were cubs. You are still the man I—"
She stopped herself.
His lips parted. “You what?"
“I believe in you," she said instead. “Now get up."
---
Back in the present, Ethan sat on the bed, burying his face in his hands. “I thought punishing her would make things right."
“You thought breaking her would unbreak you," Grace said.
“She stole everything."
“And you let her. But it was grief that almost destroyed you. Not her. Not Shadowhowl. Grief."
He looked at her, voice low. “You want me to let her go?"
“No," Grace said. “I want you to stop becoming her."
Ethan's shoulders sagged.
Grace walked back to the crib, placing a gentle hand on Johnson's head. “I held you together once. But now it feels like you're pushing me away."
“I'm trying to protect this pack."
“You're trying to protect your pride," she said without turning.
He stood, stepping closer. “And what if she has secrets we still need?"
Grace turned sharply. “Is that why you're keeping her around?"
Ethan paused. “She might know where the last Shadowhowl remnants are hiding."
“And is that the only reason?"
His mouth opened, then closed.
Grace's chest tightened.
“Ethan," she said. “If you lie to me again, even once, I will walk."
His eyes widened. “Grace—"
“I forgave your past," she whispered. “But I will not forgive your present."
They stood in silence.
Then Ethan nodded slowly. “I understand."
Grace nodded too, then picked up the small carved teething charm Johnson always chewed on. She ran her thumb along the grooves.
“You once told me we'd build a pack our children could be proud of."
“I still want that," Ethan said.
“Then prove it," she whispered. “Before you lose us both."
- Writer
