Page 80 of The Wolf

She hesitates, her hands resting on the table. “I’m not sure how,” she admits with a sigh.

My stare drifts to Satan.

“There are other forces that can bend the laws of life and death… though they don’t come easily. Whatever pulled her out of the pit and brought her back is more powerful than witch magic.”

I roll my eyes around in frustration. There’s never a straight answer with him.

Vernox glares at the floor, unmoving, his voice dropping to a guttural whisper. “I don’t believe that.” The rawness in his tone cuts through the room, silencing even the faint whispers of the wind outside.

Penny shifts uneasily in her seat, her irritation growing almost as fast as mine. “But why? Shouldn’t you be—”

“Because I’ve spent the past two hundred years mourning her,” he interrupts, not letting my sister finish. “And I can’tallowmyself to accept that all this time, she not once reached out to me in any sort of way, knowing I thought she was tossed at the mass grave like garbage with that fucking hunchback desecrating her corpse.”

I never heard him talk so much. And for the first time, I feel something other than annoyance toward him. Pity maybe?

Fuck, so that’s what it came to? Now I sympathize with the damn gargoyle.

But it’s just unimaginable to carry that kind of grief for this long, burying it so deeply it becomes part of you—only to have the possibility dangled before you that it might not have been real.

“I’m sorry,” Julia says out loud, exchanging looks with him. I know she’s being a good person, empathizing with him. And we all feel for him. But it pisses me off that she trauma bonded with Vernox so strongly. One fucking day I was gone and she befriends a traitorous statue. I absolutely despise their closeness. Yet, I hate the fact thatIwasn’t there for her even more.

He nods, though it barely registers, and he honestly looks like a complete wreck, still haunted by a loss he’s never been able to let go of. The struggle within him is obvious.

“Esmeralda is a great asset to have.” Farah leans forward, her voice softening but her words resolute. “Lilith is terrified of her power. She always was.” Then her gaze locks on me, pressing me to say something.

I exhale harshly in preparation. “We understand if you’re not feeling up for it. But we would be grateful for your engagement in this matter,” I tell him. “And that way you can redeem yourself, if you want to keep living among us.”

His shoulders shift and his wings straighten as he lifts his head slowly. There’s a storm behind his expression, breaking through his stoic mask—grief, disbelief, and a flicker of desperate hope fighting for dominance.

Whatever history he shared with Esmeralda, it’s clear that her absence—and now the faint possibility of her return—cuts deeper than any wound ever could. But perhaps, he’s been given a second chance.

“Go find her, Vernox,” Julia coaxes gently, her voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere. “Bring her home.”

The gargoyle’s head bows, his wings curling tightly around his form as though shielding himself. “If she’s alive,” he murmurs, still not letting himself believe, “I will.”

As I watch him, I can’t help but wonder if finding her will be the salvation he hopes for—or the thing that finally makes him snap.

“But if I can, I’d like to stay for the coronation,” he adds, his gaze never leaving Julia.

“Oh, no. That’s such a waste of time,” I respond venomously, and a murmur of amusement fills the room. “You should really get going.”

The ceremony isn’t happening until the next week. Out of respect for everyone, we didn’t want it to cut too closely after the battle. Besides, with Clara’s new responsibilities, her time to finish the dress is tight. And Julia also wants everything to be perfect for the wedding night—even delaying it after her period. It doesn’t matter to me, but ultimately it’s about her comfort.

She, of course, disagrees. “I think we’ll be fine if he stays just a little longer.”

If she weren’t about to marry me, and I didn’t have access to her thoughts, he would already be lying shattered at my feet, gasping for breath as he choked on his own blood, his desperate pleas for mercy drowned in my raging fury, with no chance of ever glancing at her again.

Yes, I might’ve lost my mind. But for her, I’d burn this whole world to the ground and never even flinch.

The Veil is silent today but feels like it’s about to burst with too much energy, the magic, the tension, the feeling. The Throne Hall is bathed in the glow of the Northern Lights, their vibrant hues painting the stone walls with greens and purples. It’s a far cry from anything traditional, but then again, this isn’t a typical wedding. There’s no church, no priest, no altar. We’re not interested in man-made traditions. This is a union of two souls bound by fate, love, blood, and the weight of the world on their shoulders—literally.

The air is thick and charged with excitement as the room is filled to the brim with every living soul—everyone we know, the ones who survived, the ones we rescued, and the ones who stuck around despite the dangers.

Except for the minotaur, who’s still living in the woods. And I don’t expect to see him around anytime soon. He’s got a lot to learn before he’ll be invited to the castle—or anywhere near it, for that matter.

I’m trying to hold it together, standing at the front by the steps to the platform where the throne sits. Well, now two of them. For the very first time, I’m officially showing myself in my human form, dressed in my full regalia as King. And I hear the murmurs of comments but I can’t even pay attention to that now. My heart beats heavily in my chest, not from the crowd, but from the woman who I’m about to claim as mine—in a more civilized way.

The world seems to stop as I wait, my heartbeat thundering in my chest, each second stretching impossibly longer. I’m not even sure why I’m this… nervous?