Page 61 of The Wolf

“Once Alex fully settles into his power, he’ll loosen up, you’ll see. With you around keepin’ him on his toes, even faster. You know that werewolves eventually learn to hold their human form longer. You two will still be able to travel outside the Veil. It might take decades, sure, but when you’ve got this much time, what’s a few decades?”

“Decades,” I echo.

Clara’s expression turns serious. “When everyone you know forgets your face and you can blend in without fear, when you’re no longer a target… you’ll realize what Alex is fightin’ for. He’s passionate, Julia. Truly. About you, about his people. He wantsa world where we can all coexist in peace. Humans, witches, beasts, all of us.”

I nod slowly, taking it in, my eyes rapidly filling up with tears.

“Of course, the biggest obstacle,” Clara continues, smoothing a stray curl from my face, “is Lilith. That demon witch has got her claws in the world’s elites, and her minions are whisperin’ orders in their ears. She’s a tough one to beat. You need to trust Alex that he knows what’s best for you. For every one of us.”

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of her words. “So that king-thing is serious, huh?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I just… don’t want to let him down.”

“You won’t,” she says firmly. “You’re stronger than you think. And believe me—once you put on that crown, no one’s gonna dare underestimate you.”

Before she adds anything else, the gargoyle suddenly comes to life, startling us both. “There’s been an incident,” his gravelly voice is lower and more pressing as he stands tall, towering over us.

Then we hear Meg’s heavy footsteps as she runs from the far end of the hallway toward us. “You guys!”

Hurriedly, Clara and I rush out to meet her.

“Come on, we need to move! One of the witches collapsed in the village!”

We don’t waste a second. We sprint out of the castle as fast as we can, and I catch sight of a teenage boy waiting for us—one of the future werewolves who came to inform us. While the boy briefs us on the way, the gargoyle hovers just above my head, his leathery wings cutting through the air with an eerie, thundering whir.

Julia…Alex’s voice rings out in my mind like a desperate whisper.

Alex? Are you okay?

My heart stutters in my chest.Something is happening with one of the witches. We’re on our way to check it out in the village.

I love you.His words are barely a murmur.

I love you, too. Please be careful.

I feel his presence slip away, and the weight of dread presses down harder on me.

When we reach the scene, everything is wrong. The air is thick, the kind of heavy that settles in your bones. The small cottage is dimly lit, a warm smell of freshly baked cookies envelopes the tight space, which makes everything feel even more wrong. The body of the woman lies in a crumpled heap on the floor, lifeless.

In the corner, a very pregnant witch is trying her hardest to keep a group of kids distracted. One of the other witches, cradling a newborn in her arms, is rambling, her voice frantic. “We were just having an afternoon tea while the children played… Tabatha just… collapsed…”

Clara steps in, her calm presence managing to coax the children away, convincing them to go outside and play. The door creaks shut behind them, leaving only me, Meg, and the gargoyle behind. And just like that, the room falls into a suffocating silence, heavy and oppressive.

I stand frozen, the horror of the moment washing over me in waves. I can’t breathe. My eyes are locked on the body. She’s not breathing. Her hand lies twisted at an unnatural angle, and her face is slack, empty. The lump in my throat is too big to swallow. It feels like the world is caving in on me.

The gargoyle steps forward. His clawed feet click against the wooden floor with every step. He pauses over the body, lowering to the ground, his long fingers brushing across her temples.

“It’s the mating bond,” he finally says.

Meg looks at me, but I can’t speak. I’m too paralyzed by the weight of the moment. “What about it?” she asks for me.

“Her wolf fell in a fight, and she faded with him. There’s nothing we can do here.”

The gargoyle rises to his full, towering height and begins to move toward the exits. “I’ll dig the hole.”

But I barely hear him anymore as the world seems to tilt and spin around me. It begins with a feeling, the weight of an immense panic crashing over me like a tide, and immediately drowning me in. A tightening in my chest turns into a suffocating pressure. All I can hear is the harsh pounding of my own pulse, like a war drum in my ears.

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