Chapter 12 – The Alpha of Ash and Iron

Elena's POV

The journey into the Eastern Wilds felt like being ferried to the edge of the world. Trees taller than I'd ever seen lined the mountain pass, their dark pine needles whispering secrets to the wind. Mist clung to the slopes like ancient memories, and somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled—not in menace, but in warning.

I sat in the passenger seat of Jules' car, watching the fog swirl like breath on glass. My hands cradled my belly, unconsciously protective. The child inside me—my child—was the only piece of Damien I was willing to keep.

Alpha Maddox waited at the gates of his pack, dressed in worn black leathers and boots caked with dust. His eyes were strange—like fire behind ice. He said little when we arrived. Just a nod, a quiet, "You're safe here," and then turned to lead the way through the ironwood gates.

This place was nothing like the Thorne estate. It wasn't polished or showy. It breathed power quietly—ancient, rooted power. The women who passed by bowed their heads to him in respect, but it was their eyes that struck me—hard, sharp, and awake. This wasn't a place of pity. This was a place where pain had been turned into steel.

Maddox led me to a lodge on the edge of a cliff overlooking the valley. It wasn't big, but it was clean, warm, and entirely mine. No Damien. No Catherine. No judgment. Just… silence.

I almost didn't know what to do with that.

He left without many words, promising a healer would check on me soon. Not long after, a man with weathered hands and gentle brown eyes stepped in.

"I'm Ronin," he said. "I don't ask questions unless you want them answered."

He examined me carefully, murmuring to my child like he could speak to it through touch. "You're both healthy," he finally said. "Tired, but strong."

I nodded, biting down the emotion. I hadn't heard those words—you're strong—in what felt like forever. I bathed alone that evening. For the first time in days, I let the water run over my skin without rushing, without bracing for someone to barge in. I sank into the heat and cried. Not because I was weak. But because I was finally somewhere no one demanded I pretend to be okay.

Later, when the sky turned amber, Maddox returned. He stood on the porch like a shadow, waiting until I opened the door.

"I figured you might be wondering why I took you in," he said without preamble.

"I'm not," I replied. "I think I already know."

He looked at me with something like respect. "This pack wasn't always like this," he said. "I built it after my mate died giving birth to a daughter who didn't live. The council wrote it off as fate. I wrote it as war."

He didn't offer sympathy. Just truth. And somehow, that meant more.

"I don't coddle people here," he continued. "But I do protect them. And I raise them up. If you stay, you will be safe. But make no mistake—you'll also be expected to rise."

I held his gaze and nodded. "I'm not looking for shelter. I'm looking for freedom."

That night, I couldn't sleep. The wild called to me—the wind whispering through pine, the scent of woodsmoke and rain. I walked out to the ridge behind the lodge, the stars smeared above me like shattered ice. The world stretched out below in quiet majesty.

My hands found my belly again. I thought of Damien—his silence. Of Catherine—her cruelty. Of Vivian—her lies, her false tears, her games. I didn't hate them anymore. Not because they deserved grace… but because hating them gave them space in my heart I no longer wished to offer.

"You're safe now, little one," I whispered. "I promise, no one will steal us again."

And as if summoned by my vow, a raven landed on the stone post a few feet away. In its beak was a strip of cloth—familiar green and gold embroidery I knew too well.

Damien's pack crest.

My breath caught.

Someone from the Thorne Pack was already searching for me.

And I wasn't sure if I was ready to be found.