Page 97 of Fated
Darius’s hand came up to cover Caleb’s, squeezing once before releasing. A single tear slipped down his cheek, catching in the stubble along his jaw.
“Thank you,” he whispered, voice raw. “For everything. Crescent Fang’s aid made all the difference.”
Caleb nodded. “We’re stronger together.”
Darius’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “I’ll be in touch. We’ll need to strategize soon—about the rogues, about everything.”
“We will,” Caleb promised. “Rest when you can. Your pack needs you strong.”
Darius nodded, hands curling loosely around the cooled mug of coffee, gaze returning to the table. Caleb hesitated, then offered a small nod of understanding before stepping away.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Darius shift in his seat, sorrow curling the male in on himself. The sight followed him as he made his way out of the dining hall and across the scarred courtyard.
Each step across the blackened earth drove the same thought deeper into his mind: He’d risked everything bringing his wolves to Bloodstone’s aid. If they’d lost anyone, if Asher’s wound had been worse...what would have become of Crescent Fang?
Is this leadership? Gambling with lives I’ve sworn to protect.
Fenrir clawed his way to the surface, golden eyes flashing behind Caleb’s vision.“You acted as She demands. As I should have encouraged from the beginning.”
Caleb faltered mid-step, surprised by his wolf’s admission.“What do you mean?”
“I’ve held you back,”Fenrir rumbled, voice tinged with something like regret. “Let you defer too much to the council.”A ripple of remorse passed through their bond.“My fear of risking the bloodline has kept you from claiming your full power. Thatends now.”Fenrir vowed.“This is your purpose, Caleb. This is why you carry Her blessing.”
Fenrir’s admission pressed against his ribs, reshaping something fundamental in his understanding of himself. He’d spent years deferring, compromising, playing it safe. No more.
As the hospital came into view, Caleb felt the shift solidify within him. Whatever challenges lay ahead—the rogues, the coordinated attacks, the fractured alliances—he would meet them as the alpha Selene had intended him to be.
The nurse had already finished removing Asher’s stitches by the time Caleb reached the room. His beta sat propped against the pillows, looking more alert than he had that morning. Garreth stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his son.
“You’re cleared to go,” Caleb said as he stepped inside, voice lightening as he took in the sight of Asher’s improved state. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been mauled by rogues and stitched back together by a particularly irritable healer,” Asher quipped, though his grin took the sting out of his words. “But I’ll live.”
Garreth snorted, the sound a mix of exasperation and affection. “You could show a little gratitude. The doctor and nurses saved your hide.”
“And your sense of humor,” Caleb added with a faint smile as he leaned against the wall. His gaze softened as it shifted to Garreth. “Thank you for being here.”
Garreth waved a hand dismissively. “He’s my son. Where else would I be?”
The nurse returned with discharge paperwork. Caleb watched as Garreth and Asher exchanged quiet words while signing the forms, the small, familial moment grounding him amid everything.
The short drive back to Crescent Fang was quiet, though worry still lingered in the air. Garreth drove, steady hands guiding the vehicle along winding forest roads. In the back, Caleb sat beside Asher, whose head rested against the window as he dozed. The soft sound of his breathing was a comforting rhythm, a reminder that they had made it through another battle, another storm.
Caleb understood he was right to act, but his stomach churned at the thought of throwing Crescent Fang into others’ battles. A cold sweat gathered at the base of his spine, and his hands trembled as he imagined what they stood to lose if they drew the rogues’ attention.
“Your instinct to protect is not a weakness,”Fenrir said, as if reading his thoughts.“It’s the fire that burns in your blood. This is the path Selene marked for us long before your birth.”
Fenrir’s words carried ancient echoes, raising goosebumps across Caleb’s skin. The wolf contained depths he’d never fathomed—prophecies beyond understanding that somehow resonated as truth in his very marrow.
Caleb’s gaze shifted back to Asher, watching his chest rise and fall. Garreth glanced at his son through the rearview mirror, lips pressed into a thin, worried line. Caleb was grateful for Garreth’s presence, for the fatherly support he provided not just to Asher but to him.
As the forest gave way to Crescent Fang’s familiar territory, Caleb straightened in his seat. The pack would be waiting—eager for news, for reassurance. He would need to address them, share what he’d learned, and prepare them for challenges ahead. Heallowed himself a moment of stillness, bracing for what came next as the car rolled to a stop outside the packhouse.
He placed a hand on Asher’s shoulder, squeezing as the beta stirred. “We’re home,” Caleb said softly.
Asher blinked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Good,” he murmured, voice thick with exhaustion. “Let’s keep it that way.”
Caleb’s lips quirked in a small, tired smile of his own as he helped Asher out of the car. The beta house loomed ahead, familiar warmth and childhood memories beckoning them inside.
