Chapter 10

The storm had passed. Not the one of blood and claws, but the storm within them. For now.

Avelyn stood on the balcony of the Alpha Lodge, the night air cool against her bare shoulders. The moon hung low, full and glowing, casting soft silver over the forest canopy. Below, the Bloodclaw territory lay in rare silence. No alarms. No howls. Just peace.

But inside her, the ache lingered. Not fear. Not dread. Just... longing.

She turned at the sound of footsteps. Damien.

He stood in the doorway, shirtless, the loose ties of his pants resting low on his hips. The battle scars crisscrossing his torso gleamed in the moonlight, raw reminders of the wars he'd fought for his pack, for himself. And now, for her.

But tonight, he didn't look like the fierce Alpha of the Bloodclaw Pack.

He looked like a man stripped down to truth.

"I thought you might be asleep," she said softly.

"I tried," he replied, voice husky, edged with something unspoken. "But the bed felt... empty."

Avelyn swallowed. Her pulse fluttered in her throat. "You miss me after just an hour?"

He stepped closer, the glint of amusement in his eyes unable to hide the gravity of his emotions. "I miss you after a breath."

She laughed lightly, but the sound caught halfway. He was in front of her now, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. Her skin burned where he touched her. Not from desire alone but from the bond that had snapped into place the moment they met. A bond she'd tried to resist, and he had feared for so long.

But there was no resistance tonight.

Only the quiet between storms.

"You don't have to say anything," she whispered, eyes flicking to his mouth and back. "We're both still… figuring it out."

"No," Damien said, catching her hand. He placed it over his chest. "I do have something to say."

She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. A heart that had once been locked behind walls no one dared to approach. And now, it was here, laid bare.

"I've spent years being the Alpha," he said slowly, "fearing this prophecy, shaping my world around strength, control, and isolation. I believed love would destroy me. That you would destroy me."

Her fingers curled around his skin, grounding him.

"But you didn't." He lifted her chin. "You saved me. Again and again. Not just from the curse. But from myself."

Avelyn's breath hitched. "Damien…"

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. A question. A promise. A plea.

She answered with her kiss, soft, slow, deep.

Time unraveled.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her fingers traced the ridges of his back, memorizing the landscape of pain and survival. But now, she was writing something new over those scars.

Love.

He kissed her again, this time with hunger. Weeks of tension melted into fire. She moaned against him, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he lifted her effortlessly and carried her inside.

The lodge was dimly lit, golden light flickering from the hearth. Shadows danced across the walls as he set her down by the fireplace. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other.

"You're not afraid anymore," she said.

"I'm terrified," he replied. "But I want you more than I fear the future."

She reached up and touched his cheek. "Then let tonight be ours. No curses. No wars. Just us."

He nodded, swallowing hard. "Just us."

Clothes slipped away between whispers and sighs. His lips trailed her skin like worship, and her hands clung to him like lifelines. When he laid her down on the fur rug, her hair spread like wildfire around her, he paused.

Not to admire her beauty, though she was luminous but to remember this moment. This stillness.

Her eyes met his. "I'm yours, Damien. Not because of the bond. But because I choose you."

His throat tightened. "And I choose you. Again and again. Until fate runs out of ways to test us."

Their mouths met again, deeper this time, as if trying to speak all the words they couldn't say aloud. He made love to her slowly, reverently, with the care of a man who once believed he'd never deserve this.

Every touch, every kiss, was a declaration.

You're mine. I'm yours. We're real.

The fire crackled beside them, casting golden light over tangled limbs and dampened skin. When it was over, Damien lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching her. Avelyn's breathing was slow, her eyes half-lidded with sleep, but she reached for him still, fingers sliding over his jaw.

"You always watch me after?" she murmured, teasing.

"I always watch to make sure it's real," he whispered.

She smiled sleepily, brushing her thumb along his lower lip. "It is."

Silence settled over them again, but this time it was warm, shared. Until she spoke, quiet and hesitant.

"Thorne was right, you know. About the choice."

Damien's expression darkened slightly. "I know."

"You don't have to decide tonight."

"But it's there, Ava. Looming. I've built my life around being Alpha. But with you… I realize I've never actually lived. Not fully. Not like this."

She studied him. "You don't have to give up who you are. Just… let go of what you're not meant to carry alone."

His gaze softened. "You make it sound easy."

"It's not. But we're not alone anymore."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, drawing her close. "Then whatever storm comes next… we face it together."

She pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the steady rhythm beneath her cheek. The world might still try to tear them apart. Prophecies, power, fate, they were all circling.

But here, in this sliver of time, love was louder.

And love was winning.