Moonblooded

Chapter 5 Losing control

The door closed behind Amara with a soft click.

Kade didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even breathe.

He lay in the silence, staring up at the ceiling as if the moon itself might offer penance for what he’d allowed. But no light came through the curtain gaps. No forgiveness. Only cold.

You betrayed her, Varric snarled, pacing like a caged predator. She’s ours and you let another touch what was never hers.

“I didn’t want to,” Kade whispered.

But you didn’t stop it.

The words cut deeper than any blade.

He pushed the covers aside and stood, chest bare, body aching not from lust, but from disgust. He dressed quickly, moving on instinct alone. He didn’t know where he was going until he was already there.

The infirmary lights hummed faintly, casting shadows against the sterile white tile.

Her aura once faint now pulsed against his senses like a drumbeat. Her skin shimmered with faint life. Her silver hair fanned around her pillow like a halo.

And beneath it all, something stirred.

Something… awake.

Kade moved closer.

His breath caught when her fingers twitched, barely perceptible. Just a tremor but enough.

Her chest rose slowly, and her lips parted with a soft exhale. She was still unconscious but her wolf wasn’t.

She’s here, Varric growled, reverent.

Kade’s hand hovered just above hers. He shouldn’t touch her again. He’d already pushed the bond too far. But he couldn’t help it.

His fingers brushed her wrist.

Sparks ignited beneath his skin.

Raw. Unforgiving. Truth incarnate.

Her aura flared in response brighter than ever, crashing into him like a wave. And then, just beyond the pull of instinct and breath and blood.

A voice.

Not Kade’s.

Not Varric’s.

Feminine. Fierce. Soft as smoke, sharp as steel.

“Protect her.”

Kade’s entire body locked.

Varric stilled. Then growled low, deep, a sound of recognition and possession. Lira.

The name echoed like memory.

Kade stumbled back a step, heart hammering, claws beginning to press through his skin. She didn’t move But her hand remained curled, just slightly. Just enough to say:

I know you’re here.

I feel you.

Kade stared at her for a long moment. The pull of the bond stretched tighter now, threading between his ribs, wrapping around his lungs like a noose.

He couldn’t breathe.

He turned and fled the room.

The hallway was too narrow.

His vision blurred. The world tilted.

He staggered into a wall, palm bracing the stone as the pressure built in his chest. His spine arched. His breath caught.

Then the shift hit.

Bones cracked.

Fur rippled beneath skin, trying to break free.

Let me out, Varric snarled. She called to us. She’s ready. We should be at her side marking her now.

“No,” Kade rasped. “Not like this…”

But he couldn’t hold it.

His back slammed into the corridor wall. A nurse at the far end saw him and bolted the other way without a word.

He dropped to a knee, sweat slicking his brow. His claws dragged shallow lines in the stone. His body trembled violently, gold bleeding into his eyes.

She’s ours, Varric whispered. And you’re still running.

Kade shoved himself up, forced his legs to move.

Every step toward his chambers felt like wading through quicksand.

He nearly shifted twice more before the heavy doors slammed shut behind him.

The room was dark.

Too dark.

He collapsed into the wall beside the bed, breathing ragged, jaw clenched. His muscles ached from restraint. His skin burned. The air felt too thin.

He pressed his forehead to the cold stone.

“She’s waking,” he whispered. “Her wolf is waking.”

Varric circled inside his skull like a storm.

Then why aren’t we with her? Why do you keep turning from what’s ours?

“Because…” Kade swallowed hard. “Because if she opens her eyes…”

His breath caught. His body trembled. He could still feel her sparks on his fingertips. Hear her voice.

Protect her.

He slid to the floor, dragging his hands through his hair, teeth clenched against the truth rising up through his bones.

“…I won’t be able to stop.”

The first thing Kade heard that morning wasn’t birdsong or the low thrum of pack movement.

It was the Council alert pinging in his private inbox.

He opened the tablet, still bare-chested, half awake. The moment he saw the subject line, his pulse slowed to a crawl.

Council Bulletin: Unauthorized Entity Protocol (Class A – Immediate Enforcement)

His eyes scanned the message once. Then again.

The unregistered rogue female currently within Blackfang territory has not been catalogued under Council Indexing Law. All Alpha jurisdictions are now permitted without formal approval to detain or eliminate her should she cross into neutral lands. This action is sanctioned under emergency precedent 9.4.

—Council Office of Supernatural Compliance

There were no names. No direct accusations.

They knew. And they wanted him to know they knew.

Kade’s jaw clenched hard enough to ache. His vision bled gold for a second before he shut the tablet.

They’re provoking us, Varric growled. They want her dead and us exposed.

He stood, pulled on his shirt without fastening it, and crossed the room in a few strides. The mind link flared once—tight and short.

::Ronan. Darian. My office. Now.::

No questions returned. Just movement.

They gathered five minutes later beneath the low lighting of the room, a single hanging bulb casting long shadows over the ironwood table. The air was heavy too still for morning.

Ronan leaned back, arms crossed. Darian came in last, always slower when he smelled blood.

Kade dropped the tablet onto the table.

“Council just reclassified her.”

Ronan took one look and went still.

Darian lifted a brow. “Kill on sight?”

Kade nodded once.

Ronan ran a hand over his jaw. “Subtle.”

“No,” Kade said. “It’s not. It’s a warning.”

“They’re testing you,” Ronan agreed. “Trying to see if you’ll protect her despite the risk.”

“They’re trying to corner me,” Kade growled. “Either I hand her over and claim Amara or they strip my title and label me feral.”

Darian tilted his head. “We can’t just sit on this.”

Kade’s eyes snapped to him. “We won’t.”

He stepped toward the map board, dragging a finger along the northern ridgeline.

“This goes on lockdown,” he said. “No one in or out without my approval. Border patrols rotate tighter. I want every scout within howling distance of backup.”

Ronan nodded immediately. “Consider it done.”

Darian’s arms tightened across his chest. “And the pack? You think no one will notice the walls closing in?”

“They’ll notice,” Kade said. “But they’ll fall in line.”

“And if they don’t?”

Kade looked him dead in the eye. “Then they’ll learn why I’m still Alpha.”

The silence that followed buzzed with suppressed instinct.

Darian, to his credit, didn’t challenge the tone. Just exhaled slowly.

“She doesn’t even have a name,” he muttered. “Not officially. And now she’s a death warrant on legs.”

“She has a name,” Kade said without thinking.

Both Ronan and Darian looked at him.

Kade’s expression didn’t shift, but his mind cursed the slip.

“She’s still under quarantine,” he finished.

No one replied.

After the meeting, Kade stood alone at the window, arms braced on the stone frame, eyes trained on the distant treeline beyond the walls. He could feel it again that slow constriction around his chest. The noose tightening.

The Council’s hand had always been there. But now they were pulling the cord.

They want you boxed in, Varric said. Weak. Cornered. Neutered.

“They’ll have to kill me for that.”

They won’t have to, Varric growled. You’re doing it to yourself. You keep her locked up. You let Amara climb into your bed. You let Alder walk your halls and dare you to break. And still you refuse to claim her.

Kade didn’t respond.

Because every word was true.

His wolf quieted, but not from submission.

From cold, pulsing fury.

By midday, the estate was running under a silent alert. Guards moved tighter, but with precision. The pack didn’t ask questions yet. They felt the shift in air, the weight of their Alpha’s silence.

Kade hadn’t eaten. He hadn’t slept since the dream of silver eyes and moonlight. His body ran on instinct now, on blood and command alone.

Alder hadn’t reached out. He didn’t need to.

His message had been sent.

And Kade understood it perfectly.

The east wing of the estate was quiet too quiet.

Kade sat alone in his office room, the glow of the wall map painting his face in flickering blue light. Patrol rotations updated every five seconds, data feeds logged every movement. He’d tripled the outer ring. Reinforced the ridgeline.

Still, it felt like they were already inside.

He barely looked up when the door opened.

Ronan entered without speaking. Closed the door softly behind him.

Kade remained seated.

“You said nothing to the pack,” Ronan said, voice low.

“They didn’t need to know.”

“They did. And now they’ve filled in the blanks themselves.”

Kade’s fingers curled against the table. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Ronan stepped closer, “half the warriors think you’re losing your mind. The other half think you’re protecting that girl for… personal reasons.”

Kade didn’t flinch.

“They’re whispering, Kade. And it’s louder than you think.”

“Let them whisper.”

Ronan studied him. “I’ve never questioned you. Not once. But you need to understand what this looks like.”

“I don’t care how it looks.”

“You should,” Ronan snapped, sharper than usual. “Because Darian’s already pulled four elite scouts to run ‘unofficial’ sweeps outside the borders.”

That got Kade’s attention. His head lifted.

“They’re not disobeying you yet. But if he gets spooked? If someone starts believing the Council might offer him more power to turn on you—”

“He dies,” Kade said flatly.

Ronan didn’t blink. “You’ll lose more than him if that happens.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Kade rose slowly, stepped toward the table. His aura flickered not in dominance, but restraint.

“I’m not asking for loyalty,” he said. “I’m asking for silence. One more day.”

Ronan frowned. “One more day for what?”

Kade’s voice was low.

“For everything to shift.”

He didn’t sleep.

Instead, Kade retreated to his office again just before midnight, drowning in unread messages and bloodied thoughts. His inbox buzzed once an encrypted missive flagged with a Hollowfang seal.

He opened it.

To Alpha Kade of Blackfang,

From Alpha Lucien of Hollowfang.

I hope this message finds you in good health and strong mind.

Given recent Council developments, I thought it prudent to open a dialogue regarding territory alignment and potential rogue disturbances in the northern no-man’s land.

I have no doubt you’re handling it with your usual precision.

Still, I’d like to meet. To speak Alpha to Alpha.

Consider this a courtesy extended, not demanded.

—L.

No threats. No declarations.

Just polished civility and rot beneath the surface.

Kade stared at the message for a long time.

Varric snarled so loudly it echoed through his chest.

“I know.”

He wants what’s ours.

Kade closed the message. Deleted it. Stared at the screen until it faded to black.

He didn’t reply.