Adrian's POV
The battlefield roared with a fury I hadn't felt in years. But it wasn't the clash of claws or the cries of wolves that shook me the most, it was the vision of Alana, standing at the front, her shoulders squared, her eyes glowing like fire, leading the Bloodmoon Pack as though she had been born for this.
And maybe she had.
I had always known Alana was strong. Fierce. Unyielding. But seeing her like this with warriors following her command, their faith in her so absolute, it made something in my chest ache. It was pride. And guilt. So much guilt.
Because for far too long, I had tried to shield her from this. I'd convinced myself that protecting her meant keeping her away from battle, from war, from the decisions that weighed heavy on my shoulders. I had told myself it was love, that I was keeping her safe. But really, it had been fear. Fear of losing her. Fear of watching her get hurt. Fear of letting her shine too brightly and realizing she didn't need me.
