I woke up to sunlight I barely recognized, and that strange comfort you only get after actually sleeping—really sleeping—for the first time in days.
Five, to be exact, since the ceremony stone cracked my whole life open.
In daylight, the safehouse didn’t seem so alien.
The walls were covered with ivy, the floors were old wood worn soft.
Morning made the place feel carefully warm, the kind of quiet you’d never notice if you were too tired to pay attention.
Sal was in the kitchen, hunched over a mug of coffee, looking like he’d slept even less than the rest of us—which said a lot.
“Dorian’s stable,” he said before I got a word out.
“Voss’s contact showed up around three, patched him up properly.
Lucian’s with him now.” “And Adrian?” I asked.
“Outside, making calls he doesn’t want anyone to hear.” Sal almost smiled, just for a second.
“That usually means Enzo, and that usually means Enzo’s pissed about something.” Adrian was outside in the garden, overgrown with weeds and half-wild roses.
He was on his phone, tense and clipped, and when he saw me, he closed out whatever conversation he was having.
“Problem?” I asked.
He slid his phone in his pocket, rolling his shoulders.
“Depends how you define problem.
Rocco’s gone silent since the attack.
No movement.
No messages.
Enzo thinks that’s scarier than straight-up aggression.” “So he’s regrouping.” “Or just waiting for someone else to move first.” Adrian’s jaw clenched.
“Either way, we have a window.
Not big, but it’s there.” Before I could ask what he intended to do about it, my burner buzzed in my pocket.
Only a handful of people had this number.
But when I looked, it wasn’t Lucian messaging in his usual, stiff way.
Wren.
It’s Damian.
Nova gave me this number for emergencies—I hope that’s okay.
Things have gotten worse.
Elias moved the second ceremony up—three days from now, not a month.
He says it’s about stability, but I think he’s rushing because people are starting to hear you’re alive.
He wants Ronan bonded to Briar before anyone even starts asking questions about what happened to you.
Nova’s scared.
Elias barely lets her out of his sight since her letter took too long to get answered.
I don’t think he knows she’s in touch with you, but I have no idea how long that’ll last.
I don’t know what you can do about any of this, not with everything else on your plate.
But you needed to know.
Before you lose your chance to decide if you can live with this.
—D.
I read it twice.
My chest went tight and hot with that same old fury—the kind that isn’t about fate or conspiracies, but about a sixteen-year-old kid stuck in a wolfpack that already showed exactly how little she meant to them.
Adrian didn’t wait for me to speak.
He could read it in my face.
“What is it?” I handed him the phone.
I watched him read, saw his jaw tense with every line.
“Three days,” he said.
“They’re rushing because of me,” I said, voice shaking.
“Because I’m alive, and that screws up whatever legitimacy this second ceremony is supposed to buy them.” “And Nova’s stuck in the crossfire.” Adrian’s eyes narrowed, already thinking three moves ahead.
“Same spot you were in, five days ago.” “I can’t leave her.” My voice was hard—different than before.
“No matter what else is going on—Rocco, the erasure faction—I refuse to stay tucked away in this safehouse while my kid sister has to watch those people make official what they already did to me.” “I’m not saying you should.” Adrian’s look went sharp, the kind that means he’s building a plan in his head.
“But if you walk into Redthorn territory three days before a ceremony meant to wipe all questions about you from history, that’s not a rescue.
That’s you stepping right into Elias’s trap.” “So what do you suggest?” Lucian appeared at the doorway.
For once, he looked almost fired up, all his focus turned inward—busy running numbers, checking angles.
“I might have a suggestion,” he said, voice precise, “but neither of you is going to like it.” Adrian didn’t blink.
“Let’s hear it.” “The Sovereignty gave certain rights to bloodline heirs, back when the Court was a real thing.
Rights that actually overrule any individual pack law.” Lucian looked at me.
“One of those was the power to formally challenge any ceremony, any bonding, any pack decision, if you could show it was rigged or forced.” I hesitated.
“But the Court’s gone.
Those rights are gone, too.” “Officially, yes.
But there are still enough Alphas who remember the old laws.
If you play it right—publicly, formally—even the rumor of a challenge forces pack leaders to listen.
That makes it a lot harder for Elias to force this ceremony through quietly.” Lucian’s face set like stone.
“You’d have to reveal exactly who you are.
No hiding, not from Redthorn, not from anybody.
And we have no idea who else is watching or waiting for you to show your face.
But it’s the only way I see to save Nova without giving Elias everything he wants.” “So you want me to announce myself.
To everyone.” “That’s right,” Lucian said.
No softening, no flinching.
“It’s risky.
Every side hunting for you learns exactly where to find you, all at once.
But it keeps you on your terms, not his.
It gives you a shot.” Adrian took a long time to answer.
He glanced back and forth between us, measuring risks, stacking up calculations behind his eyes.
“If we do this,” he said finally, “it’s not just Wren who’s on the line.
Every faction out there looking for her will know where and when.” Lucian nodded.
“They will.” “Then we go in ready.” Adrian stared right at me, decision solidifying in his posture.
“If you’re going to stand in front of an entire pack and lay claim to a bloodline people have died for even whispering about, then we give you every advantage we can build in three days.” I looked at both of them.
My father, who for once wasn’t pulling away from the conversation.
And Adrian, already rebuilding new walls of defense around me, something fierce and loyal shining through every word.
“Three days,” I said, voice quiet.
The deadline tasted like iron in my mouth.
“Let’s use all of them.
Every hour.” Beyond the straggling hedges, the safehouse kept its hush and safety—like nothing was about to explode.
But I knew, right then, that the peace we’d managed to scrounge out overnight had just gotten an expiration date.
And it was coming up fast.
[End of Chapter 16]