Chapter 18: Chapter 18

LUXURY

The pack lands had been quiet since the attack.

Too quiet.

Erik and I sat in my study, the weight of the pack’s grief suffocating in the air around us.

The loss, the aftermath—it was unraveling everything.

Wolves were angry. Wolves were afraid.

And while Erik spoke—while he listed the damage, the resources lost, the security risks—

I stopped listening.

Because something shifted.

Something changed.

And Fen, my wolf, stirred in the pit of my stomach, his unease matching mine. A low growl rumbled from deep within me, barely audible, but it sent a shockwave through my body, and everything else faded.

The scent hit me next—iron, blood. And I knew—I fucking knew.

~Selene~.

It clawed at my senses, thick and desperate, making my heart hammer against my ribs. It was too strong, too much. She was bleeding. She was hurt. And I wasn’t there.

Fen’s instincts surged, howling for me to act. I stood abruptly, conversation forgotten. The scrape of my chair against the floor barely registered.

Erik stilled. “Alpha?”

I inhaled sharply, deep, controlled—but there was no control left in me. The scent was growing stronger. Too strong.

I didn’t answer. Didn’t stop to explain. I just moved.

My shirt was the first thing to go, ripped off in a single motion. My muscles flexed and tensed as I tore through the doors, the night air slamming into my skin. My boots hit the dirt, and then—I was running.

I knew my pack lands like the back of my hand. I didn’t need sight to navigate them. The scent of pine, the shift of the wind, the feel of the earth beneath my feet—everything guided me.

The blood—her blood—was pulling me forward. The acrid stench of aggression curled in the air, wrapped around something sickeningly familiar.

Maeve.

The growl that tore from my throat was no longer human. It was something darker. Something feral. The sound sent birds scattering from the treetops, the forest holding its breath as I closed in.

Then I heard it—a scream. Weak. Strained. My pulse roared in my ears. I was seconds away, and it still wasn’t fast enough.

Another sound—a snarl. Deep. Triumphant. A predator standing over its prey.

I broke through the trees.

And I felt it.

Selene. Down. Bleeding.

Maeve’s breath was a low growl, her presence thick with violence. She was close—too close to Selene. I didn’t need to see her to know where she was. The sound of her breath, the shift of her weight against the dirt, the ragged scrape of her claws against the earth—she was still bristling with the high of the attack.

She had touched her. She had hurt her.

And for that—she was dead.

A snarl ripped free from my throat, something raw, something deadly. Maeve barely had time to react before I hit her.

The impact sent her sprawling, her body crashing into the dirt with a choked yelp. She scrambled, claws scraping against my chest in a weak attempt to fight back, but she wasn’t stronger than me. And I was too far gone to stop.

She whined—pathetic. Desperate.

A plea for mercy.

There was none.

My jaws found her throat before she could draw another breath, and I tore. The taste of blood flooded my mouth, hot and metallic. Her death was swift, but it wasn’t enough.

So I didn’t stop. Not until there was nothing left of her.

The scent of death coiled in the air, thick and undeniable. I let her body fall from my mouth, my chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths as the rage still burned beneath my skin, as my instincts screamed to kill again, again, again.

But it was over.

I turned, inhaling—ignoring the corpse at my feet. The only thing that mattered was Selene.

Her broken body lay motionless, her warmth fading too fast. My heart twisted violently, the tightness in my chest something unbearable.

I shifted in an instant, my fingers trembling as I reached for her. My hands found her skin, burning-hot and too slick with blood.

“Selene,” I growled, my voice thick with raw emotion. I gathered her gently into my arms, cradling her as if I could shield her from the damage already done.

She made a sound—a weak, broken thing.

Her fingers grasped at my wrist, holding on.

I covered her hand with mine, my grip firm. Unyielding.

“I’ve got you,” I promised.

And I meant it.

Even as her blood soaked into my skin, even as her breath shuddered against my chest, weak and uneven, I could still smell Maeve.

Not just her—but others.

Their scents lingered in the air. Heavy. Watching.

This hadn’t been just Maeve.

She wasn’t alone.

The realization settled in my gut like poison.

I let this happen.

I let it fester.

I knew she was dangerous. I knew she was sowing discord, stirring the wolves, feeding them bitter lies until they turned their grief into something violent. Something cruel.

Maeve was a problem I didn’t deal with fast enough.

And Selene had paid the price.

My jaw clenched as I adjusted my grip on her, her breath too slow, too unsteady. I needed to get her back—now.

I stood, turning—and froze.

I wasn’t alone.

Movement flickered in the trees. Not one. Not two. More.

My lips pulled back from my teeth as I listened. They weren’t hiding. They wanted me to know they were there.

A growl rumbled from my throat, low. Warning. Lethal.

My grip on Selene tightened.

And then—they stepped forward.

Three wolves. Their presence shifted the air, heavy with anticipation, their scents thick with sweat, aggression, and something darker—something furious.

They didn’t move like wolves coming to help.

They moved like wolves who had been waiting.

For me.

For this.

A step forward. A shift of weight against the dirt. The faintest exhale from broad lungs, steady but thrumming with barely restrained rage.

I knew that stance. I knew that breathing.

~Ronan.~

I knew them all.

Ronan. Hale. Kade.

These were Maeve’s wolves.

They had stood behind her, fed into her poison, whispered against Selene behind my back, convinced themselves that a mortal standing beside their alpha was a disgrace.

And now, they were seething.

Maeve was dead.

Their fury was thick in the air, tangible, choking. I could hear the tremor in their breaths, the slight shift in their stance—the barely contained grief laced with the sharp sting of vengeance.

“Maeve is gone,” Ronan snarled, his voice raw, shaking. “You slaughtered her like she was nothing.”

I bared my teeth, blood still thick on my tongue. “She was nothing.”

A sharp, guttural snarl tore from Hale. “She was our pack.”

“She was a traitor,” I corrected coldly. “And you all know the rules.” I took a slow step forward, the weight of my authority pressing into them like a storm ready to break. “Crimes against pack members, mortal or wolf, are punishable however I see fit.”

I let the silence stretch, let them absorb the reality of my words.

“Selene was under my protection,” I continued, voice steady, unshaken. “Maeve attacked her. And let’s not pretend it was meant as a warning. I ~felt~ her intent. She wanted Selene dead. She meant to take from me, to strip what was mine from this world.”

I could hear Ronan’s heartbeat hammering, could feel the restraint it took for him not to lunge. But I wasn’t finished.

“So I gave her the same fate she planned to give Selene.” My voice dropped lower, lethal. “Swift. Brutal. Final.”

A low, warning growl vibrated between them.

I exhaled sharply. “And if you think for one second that you’ll change that, if you think you have ~any~ say in what I decide—then challenge me.”

Silence.

A deep, resounding silence.

Hale’s breath hitched, his claws digging into the dirt. Kade shifted his weight, restless. And Ronan—Ronan was still, but his anger rolled off him in waves, his frustration raw, barely contained.

“You can try,” I said, my tone smooth, unwavering. “But you will not win.”

My mind reached outward, sharp and commanding. ~Erik.~

There was a pause, then a flicker of awareness as my beta responded through the mind-link. “~Alpha?~”

“~Send a team. More bodies to clean up.~”

A beat of silence. Then confusion. “~More? What happened? If we are under attack—~”

I cut him off. “~Now, Erik.~”

The mind-link went silent.

I rolled my shoulders, cracking my neck, and let the silence stretch.

Ronan’s wolves shifted slightly, waiting for an order, waiting for a moment.

And I gave it to them.

They lunged.

The first wolf went for my throat.

I met him halfway.

I caught him midair, ripping him from his trajectory, twisting, using his momentum to slam him into the dirt.

Before he could recover, I crushed his windpipe beneath my knee.

The second wolf hit me from behind.

Teeth tore into my shoulder, sharp and burning.

I snarled, grabbing his scruff, twisting hard until I felt bone crack.

He yelped, loosening his hold for just a second—

Enough for me to throw him off.

He hit the ground, rolling, but there was no time to finish him.

Ronan was already on me.

This wasn’t a fight.

This was an execution.

They had planned this. Planned to wait until I was weakened, distracted, vulnerable. Planned to take me out. For her. For Selene. Because they refused to tolerate a human’s place at my side. Because they thought they had a say.

Ronan’s weight slammed into me, his claws raking across my chest, his teeth snapping too close. I twisted, barely dodging, but he was strong. Stronger than I’d anticipated.

He shoved me back, and for the first time in years—I staggered. His partner saw it. And he howled. A sound of triumph. A sound that said he believed they could win.

Ronan shifted back just long enough to speak, his voice laced with smug satisfaction.

“You’ve gone soft,” he sneered. “For a mortal? You disgrace the pack.”

I spat blood onto the dirt, slowly rolling my shoulders. Erik ~better~ hurry.

I exhaled sharply. “You talk too much.”

His grin faded.

Then—he lunged.