Elara's POV
"We need to leave. Now."
Ronan's voice cuts through my swirling thoughts. He's already moving, pulling me away from the burned shop toward a black SUV that somehow survived the chaos.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"Blackmoor Estate. Pack area. It's the only safe place right now." He opens the passenger door for me. "Get in."
I climb in, suddenly aware that I'm still naked. So is Ronan. So are Luna and Ash. Nobody seems bothered by it except me.
"Does everyone just walk around naked after shifting?" I mutter.
Luna laughs from the back seat as she slides in. "Welcome to werewolf life. Clothes are expensive. Shifting shreds them. We get used to being bare." She tosses me a blanket. "But here. For modesty."
I wrap it around myself gladly. Ronan gets behind the wheel, and Ash takes the front passenger seat. We peel out of the lane just as police sirens wail in the distance.
"The humans will think it was a gas leak," Ash says. "We have people who handle these things. Cover stories. Cleanup crews."
"You have a whole secret society," I say slowly. "How many werewolves are there?"
"In North America? About fifty thousand." Ronan's hands are tight on the driving wheel. "Worldwide? Maybe three hundred thousand. We live among people, hiding in plain sight. Running businesses. Holding places of power. Your dad Richard has no idea his business partner is a werewolf."
My head spins. Everything I thought I knew about the world is wrong.
We drive in silence through the snowy streets. Christmas lights still twinkle in windows. Families are probably inside, warm and happy, with no idea that monsters are real.
I'm one of those monsters now.
"Stop thinking like that," Ronan says softly.
"Like what?"
"Like you're a monster. I can feel your thoughts through the link." His silver eyes meet mine briefly. "You're not a monster, Elara. You're extraordinary."
"I'm a weapon," I correct. "That's what Helena said. My blood can kill monsters. Every pack will want to rule me or destroy me."
"They'll have to go through me first," Luna says furiously. "You're pack now. Family. We protect our own."
The word 'family' makes my throat tight. I've never had a real family. Mom tried, but she was always working, always tired. And after she died, Richard and Victoria made it clear I didn't fit.
But these werewolves—these strangers who met me hours ago—are calling me family.
"Why?" I whisper. "Why do you care? You don't even know me."
"You saved our Alpha," Ash says simply. "You broke a curse that's been killing us for thirty years. You freed controlled dogs when you had no reason to help them." He looks back at me. "Plus, you knocked out a professional shooter with a pipe. That was badass."
Despite everything, I smile.
We drive for another twenty minutes into the woods. The roads get narrower, the trees thicker. Finally, we pass through huge iron gates with wolves carved into them.
"Welcome to Blackmoor Estate," Ronan says.
The mansion emerges through the trees, and my breath catches. It's huge—glass and stone and wood blending nicely with the forest. Warm light glows from dozens of windows. Werewolves in human form move around outside, watching or working or just living.
"This is all yours?" I ask.
"Ours," Ronan corrects. "The pack shares everything. Food, shelter, defense." He parks in front of the main door. "Come on. We need to get you cleaned up and fed. Then we talk tactics for the Summit."
Inside, the house is even more beautiful. But I barely notice. Exhaustion hits me like a truck. I've been running on energy for hours, and now that we're somewhere safe, my body wants to shut down.
"She's crashing," Luna says, catching me as I stumble. "Transformation exhaustion. It's normal. Her body needs rest to finish adjusting."
"This way." Ronan scoops me up like I weigh nothing and carries me up a grand staircase. "My room is safer. No one gets past my door without permission."
"Your room?" I manage to ask.
"Our room now." His voice is soft. "Mates share everything, Elara. Space, life, soul. You'll feel better being close to me. The bond will settle faster."
He carries me into a huge bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows showing the forest under moonlight. The bed is huge, covered in soft furs. Everything smells like pine and winter and Ronan.
He lays me down gently and pulls a cover over me. "Sleep. I'll be right here."
"Don't leave," I hear myself say.
"Never." He lies down beside me, fully dressed now in sweats someone must have brought him. His arms wrap around me, and the bond hums with satisfaction.
But my mind won't shut off.
"Ronan?" I whisper. "What if I can't do this? What if I fail at the Summit? What if—"
"Then we run." His lips press against my forehead. "We take the pack and leave. I won't let them take you."
"That would make you a rogue Alpha. An outcast."
"I've been an outcast before." His voice is sad. "The curse separated me for thirty years. Made me untouchable. If picking you means being an outcast again, I'll do it gladly."
I turn in his arms to face him. "Tell me about them. The other mates who died."
Pain flashes across his face. "Elara—"
"I need to know. Please."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then: "Sarah was first. Twenty years old. Sweet and brave. She lasted nineteen days before the curse drained her. I watched her waste away, unable to help." His voice breaks. "Michelle came next. A warrior. Strong. She fought the curse for sixteen days. Died in my arms cursing me for not letting her go sooner."
Tears slide down my face.
"Catherine was last. Five years ago. She was sweet, kind, everything good. She only made it eleven days." His silver eyes are haunted. "I swore after her that I'd never bond again. Never subject another woman to that fate. But then you came along with your stubborn spirit and your impossible blood, and you didn't give me a choice."
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"Don't be. You broke the curse. You survived what killed them. You're different, Elara. Stronger. But—" He cups my face. "But I'm afraid. Every second, I'm afraid that I'll wake up and you'll be gone like them. That this is all temporary. That I'll lose you too."
I kiss him. Soft and gentle and full of hope. "You won't lose me. We broke the curse together, remember? I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?" His voice sounds young, fragile.
"Promise."
He holds me tighter, and I let tiredness finally take me under.
But my dreams aren't peaceful.
I see flashes of tomorrow. The Winter Summit. Dozens of strong Alphas surrounding me. Helena's gold eyes watching. Marcus hiding in shadows. And something else—something dark and hungry moving toward us.
The Hunter's Guild. Coming for my blood.
I wake with a gasp hours later. Dawn light streams through the windows. Ronan is asleep beside me, one arm still wrapped protectively around my waist.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand—somehow it survived the chaos. I grab it.
Twenty missed calls. Dozens of texts. All from the same mystery number.
I open the most latest text:
"Elara Winters. We have your friend Mira. The one who housed you after the party. Come to the old factory on Fifth Street. Alone. By noon. Or we start taking her fingers one at a time. -The Guild"