Chapter 225
Chapter 225
I reached one of the border pack towns just before midnight a wom-down place of timber and brick built along the river. Lanterns glowed outside the tavern near the docks, casting long streaks of light across the cobblestones. Familiar. Almost comforting.
It took me a moment to realize why.
This was the same pub.
The same weathered building where, years ago, I’d first seen her – the quiet waitress with wary eyes and no wolf, who’d stared at me like she was trying to understand why her heart was pounding
I parked the truck and sat there for a moment, staring at the door.
So much had begun here.
I hadn’t meant to stop. But some part of me
maybe the part that missed her every waking hour – wanted to
see it again, to remember who I’d been before I’d ruined everything.
Inside, the tavern smelled of ale and damp wood. The furniture was the same, though more worn now, the carved bar still lined with mismatched stools. The bartender, an older man with silver in his beard, barely looked up as I
took a seat in the corner.
I ordered whiskey and let the glass sit untouched in front of me.
The ghost of a sensation passed over my hand. Ellie, handing me the drink I’d
ordered, her fingertips brushing across the side of my hand and the first startling jolt
of the pull that had nearly caused me to drop the whiskey.
I could still feel that touch if I thought about it hard enough. It had changed everything.
Across the room, a young woman laughed — a soft, throaty sound that reminded me for one aching second of Ellie. My chest tightened, then eased as reality returned. The laughter was rougher, sharper, but still – the echo
hurt.
I closed my eyes. I could still see her here that first night: balancing a tray, avoiding my gaze, the faint tremor in her voice when she asked what I wanted to drink. I’d known, the moment she’d spoken, that something inside of me had shifted. The mate pull had hit me like fire under my skin from the first touch.
For someone like me
raised on control, trained to suppress instinct — it had been unbearable.
I’d fought it. Fought her. And in the end, I’d lost.
Now, sitting in the same place years later, I finally understood what I’d been too proud to see then: that she hadn’t needed a rescuer, she’d needed a partner. Someone who saw her strength and chose to stand beside it instead of trying to cage it.
I took a slow sip of whiskey, the burn anchoring me to the present. The tavern door creaked open and a few late- night patrons drifted in – men with the restless look of traders or mercenaries. Their low conversation caught his attention.
I stiffened. The words blurred in the noise, but one thing was clear
Moonstone.
someone was hiring. North meant toward
I forced myself to stay still, to listen without reacting. The men drank quickly and left,
but their scent unaligned, foreign — lingered behind them.
rogue,
Chwe 225
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Felicity. It had to be. The pieces fit too neatly: the organized movement, the sudden flow of money, the direction. She was gathering them again, whatever her reason. And that meant Ellie was in danger.
My pulse quickened. I tossed a few coins on the counter and rose to leave.
Outside, the river mist had thickened, curling through the streets like smoke. I walked toward the truck, head down, cloak pulled tight. I’d return to Silver Fang before dawn, regroup, then warn Cassian and Alaric. They needed to prepare.
As I started the engine, I caught sight of my reflection in the rearview mirror – tired eyes, a few new lines, the ghost of a man who’d once thought he could control everything.
“You’re not that man anymore,” I muttered to myself.
The truck rumbled to life. The road stretched ahead, dark and endless. Somewhere beyond the hills, Ellie was dreaming again – maybe of me, maybe of something far worse. Either way, I’d make sure she never had reason to fear.
I’d protect her, no matter what it took.
And when the time came to face Felicity again, I wouldn’t hold back.
Not this time.
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