We didn’t get the full day. Not even half.

It was just past midday when a runner found us—red-faced, winded, and practically vibrating with need.

I’d barely finished kissing Caelum into silence again when the knock came. A single, hesitant rap against the wood, followed by a mumbled, “Beta Marrick said to deliver this immediately.”

Caelum groaned. “So much for irresponsibility.”

I peeled myself off the floor and took the sealed note from the boy’s shaking hands. “Tell Marrick I’ll be there in ten.”

The boy gave a fast, clumsy bow and darted off like the floor might swallow him whole.

I broke the seal with my thumb. It was Kael’s handwriting: sharp, angled, and straight to the point.

There’s a resistance forming in the East.

The paper crinkled in my hand.

Caelum read over my shoulder, jaw tightening. “That didn’t take long.”

“We expected this,” I sighed, already reaching for my boots. “And we’ve planned for it.”

“Think it’s Hollowmane?” he asked, already shrugging into his coat.

“Most likely,” I muttered, tugging my sleeves into place. “They’ve always resented influence. Even before we took power. It was the same story with Nightclaw.”

“Could be the Lotus Coven,” he offered. “Or something worse. A hybrid faction. Witch and wolf, not united by vision—just by their shared hatred of what we’ve built.”

“Well,” I replied dryly, “nothing says unity like a rebellion.”

’

By the time we reached the council rotunda, it was already full. Every seat taken. Maps spread across the table. A haze of burning sage in the air to accompany the low murmur of disagreement rolling like thunder through the stone chamber.

Kael stood at the head of the table, arms folded, the folds of his long coat brushing the floor as he leaned in toward the parchment laid bare. He didn’t speak as we entered. Just nodded, once, as we joined him.

The room quieted instantly, the council rising in a respectful bow.

Caelum gave a small nod to Marrick. “Bring us up to speed.”

Marrick stepped forward from the corner of the map table. “There’s a resistance forming. We’ve managed to infiltrate it through fringe contacts. So far, it’s a coalition. Smaller border packs, coven offshoots, rogue sympathisers. The usual suspects, all finding common ground.”

Lyra leaned back in her chair, arms folded, gaze hard. “Fascinating how they couldn’t find unity in peace, but they’ve somehow managed it through opposition. Doesn’t that defeat the entire point of their rebellion?”

“You’d think,” I said under my breath, earning a few tense smirks.

“They’re calling it The Return,” said Etta, young and bright-eyed. “They say this new dominion is unnatural. That we’ve abandoned the old ways.”

“They’re not wrong,” someone muttered from the far end. “What we’ve done is a deviation. A rewriting.”

I stepped forward, letting the heat in my chest show just a little. “It is a rewriting of a world that was already broken.”

I let my hand rest on the table. “We didn’t invent this unity between witches and wolves. We’re only remembering it. Before the war, before the blood and betrayal, we were one dominion. The divide was the deviation. What we’re doing now—this—is the real return.”

A hush settled again.

“So. What are our options?” Caelum asked.

He didn’t sit. Neither did Kael. That always made the council nervous.

Kael’s arms stayed folded as he spoke. “We vote. Immediate suppression, or diplomatic delegation.”

“Sending a delegation, gives them time to grow teeth,” Marrick argued.

“But a suppression makes us the exact thing they fear. We’ll feed their narrative with our own hands.,” Lyra countered.

And just like that, the table split.

“We do both,” I said. “We send envoys to speak, but that’s not all we do. Marrick, ready a quiet show of force. Let them see that we are prepared without making the first move. Etta, you’ll draft our declaration. Caelum and I will review it before it’s sent.”

Kael tilted his head slightly. “And me?”

I met his gaze across the table. “You’ll stay exactly where they won’t expect you to be. Right here, guarding the Grove. I suppose if they get word of a suppression, they will plot to take the Grove. You will be waiting.”

He didn’t speak, but I felt it in the bond first; the subtle shift of agreement, before he gave a quiet nod.

The vote passed, and the plan was in motion. But none of us looked relieved. Because this was only the beginning, and none of us knew how it would end.

Later that evening, after the war maps were rolled away and the fire in the rotunda had died down to soft embers, I stood together on our balcony that overlooked the entire Grove.

Caelum had fallen asleep behind me on the couch, one arm draped lazily over his face, the other tangled in a scroll he’d been halfway through reading before surrendering to exhaustion. His breathing was slow. Peaceful. Occasionally, his fingers twitched like he was casting spells in his dreams.

I smiled at the sight.

Kael, meanwhile, stood by the arched window to my right, staring out into the darkening trees like they might speak to him. His arms were folded. His coat was undone.

He didn’t turn when he spoke. “You’re thinking too loudly.”

I walked over, leaned beside him. “Am I?”

“You hum when you worry. Not out loud. Just” through the bond.”

I grinned. “Apologies, General.”

He turned to face me then, and for a moment we just stood there. I smiled as I remembered the boy who once dared me to leap across his father’s carriage after I shifted. The man who now stood beside me as ruler of a divided world.

“I didn’t think we’d make it this far,” he admitted.

“I did,” I said, surprising even myself. “Not always clearly or easily. But I did.”

He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips, and my smile widened as we continued to ogle each other.

“I know this will tough,” I whispered. “But we’ll make this peace last.”

Behind us, Caelum stirred and groaned loudly. “Are you two having a deep, life-altering moment without me?”

I laughed. “Only slightly.”

He sat up, hair a tangled mess, scroll sliding off his chest. “Ugh. I miss when my biggest concern was which moon phase was ideal for spiritual clarity.”

“Those were never your concerns,” Kael called over his shoulder.

“Let me pretend!” Caelum barked at him.

I watched them bicker, and something warm settled behind my ribs. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t bracing for loss or waiting for a prophecy to twist or a bond to snap. I wasn’t the prey any more.

I was part of what came after.

A raven circled above the manor; its feathers too silver for shadow, and too dark for light. It swooped low and dropped something at my feet: a scrap of parchment, edges singed and words smudged by ash.

I bent and picked it up. The words were simple. Barely legible.

“The Whisper approaches.”

She closed her fist around it. There was nothing else. No crest, just those four words that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

Kael stepped closer, frowning. “What is it?”

I handed it to him without speaking.

Caelum rose slowly from the couch, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and joined us. His smile faded the moment he saw the note.

“We’ll be ready,” I said softly.

And above us, the raven circled once more before vanishing into the dark.