Chapter 8: The Pack's Call
891 Words
Lina sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the small cut on her palm from gripping the knife too hard during the fight. It was shallow, already clotting, but the adrenaline still buzzed under her skin like electricity.
Zane paced the small cabin, restless. The silver knife lay cleaned on the table between them—evidence of what she’d done. What they’d both done.
“He’ll tell them,” Zane said finally. “Kade. He’ll tell the Ironfang alpha everything. Your scent. The bond. That you fought back.”
Lina looked up. “Then we fight back harder.”
Zane stopped. Turned to her. “It’s not just one beta anymore. It’s the whole pack. And if word spreads to the other packs… we’re talking war. Not just for me. For you.”
She stood. Walked to him. Placed her hands on his chest—right over the spot where his heart raced too fast.
“Then let them come,” she said. “I’m not hiding. Not anymore.”
He covered her hands with his. “You’re braver than any Luna I’ve ever heard of.”
“I’m not a Luna yet,” she reminded him. “But I’m getting there.”
A faint smile touched his lips—the first real one since Kade left. He leaned down. Kissed her softly. Then deeper. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him.
When they broke apart, both breathing uneven, he rested his forehead against hers.
“I need to make a call,” he said quietly. “To someone I trust. My sister—Elara. She’s the only one in the Shadow Pack who never turned her back on me after the curse got bad.”
Lina nodded. “Do it.”
Zane pulled an old satellite phone from his bag—something she hadn’t noticed before. He stepped outside for better signal. Lina watched through the window as he paced in the snow, speaking low and urgent.
Minutes later he came back in. Face grim.
“She’s coming,” he said. “Tonight. With news. And maybe… help.”
“Help how?”
“She’s been researching the curse for years. Old texts. Pack elders’ stories. She thinks there might be a way to weaken it without a full ritual. Something involving the mate bond and blood magic.”
Lina swallowed. “Blood magic sounds… permanent.”
“It is.” He met her eyes. “If we do this, there’s no going back. You’d be tied to me forever. To the pack. To the wolf inside.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I already am.”
Zane pulled her into his arms again. Held her like she might vanish.
They spent the afternoon preparing—stocking food, checking weapons, reinforcing the doors again. Tension built with every passing hour.
As dusk fell, a new scent hit the air. Not hostile. Familiar to Zane.
A figure appeared at the tree line—tall, dark-haired like Zane, but with softer features. A woman. Elara.
She approached slowly, hands visible. No weapons.
Zane opened the door. Stepped out.
“Sister,” he said, voice thick.
Elara stopped a few feet away. Looked at him—really looked. Then at Lina behind him.
“You found her,” Elara said softly. “The one the legends talked about.”
Zane nodded once.
Elara’s gaze shifted to Lina. “You’re braver than I expected, human. Most would have run by now.”
Lina lifted her chin. “I’m not most people.”
A small smile crossed Elara’s face. “Good. Because we’re going to need that fire.”
She stepped inside. Closed the door. Pulled a worn leather book from her coat.
“This is the Blackwood Grimoire,” she said. “Our family’s record of the curse. And the only known way to break it without killing the alpha.”
She opened it to a marked page. Symbols. Latin. Drawings of moons and blood drops.
“It requires three things,” Elara explained. “The fated mate’s willing blood. A night under the blood moon—two weeks from now. And the alpha’s acceptance of the bond completely—no holding back.”
Zane’s jaw tightened. “And if we fail?”
“The curse consumes you faster. And her…” Elara looked at Lina. “It could kill her too. The bond would tear her apart.”
Lina felt a chill. But she didn’t back down.
“Then we don’t fail,” she said.
Elara studied her. Then nodded. “You’ll do. Both of you.”
Zane took Lina’s hand. Squeezed.
Elara closed the book. “We have two weeks to prepare. Training. Rituals. And keeping the other packs off our backs.”
She looked between them. “But first… rest. You’ll need your strength.”
As Elara settled on the couch with maps and notes, Zane pulled Lina toward the bed.
He held her close under the quilts. Whispered against her ear.
“No matter what happens,” he said, “I’m glad it’s you.”
Lina turned in his arms. Kissed him slow. Deep.
“Me too.”
Outside, the wind carried distant howls—more packs stirring.
The clock was ticking.
Two weeks until the blood moon.
And everything would either end… or begin.
- Writer
