Kira's POV
"I've got her!" Cain's shout cuts through my fading consciousness. "Moira's trying to escape through the east border!"
Through blurry vision, I watch Daemon's warriors tackle the old witch to the ground. Dark magic explodes around her, but there are too many of them. She goes down hard, hands bound with silver chains that burn against her skin.
"Where's Stella?" Daemon roars, still cradling me against his chest.
"Gone," one warrior reports breathlessly. "She shifted and ran the second things turned. We couldn't catch her."
Daemon's growl vibrates through me. I want to tell him it's okay, that one prisoner is enough, but my mouth won't work. The bond might be complete now, but Moira's attack did serious damage. I can feel my life bleeding away through cracks I can't see.
"Kira." Daemon's voice breaks on my name. He shifts fully to human form, not caring that he's naked in front of everyone. All that matters is me in his arms. "Kira, stay with me. Please."
"Why?" The word comes out barely a whisper. "Why do you... care now?"
His hands shake as he brushes hair from my face. "Because I've been half-dead since you left. Because I can't sleep without nightmares of you alone and hurting. Because every single cruel word I ever said to you haunts me."
Tears stream down his face—actual tears from the boy who never cried, who was beaten until he learned emotions were weakness.
"You were right," he continues, his voice raw. "I was your nightmare. I made your life hell because mine was hell, and I didn't know how to be anything else. My father broke something in me when I was young, and I turned around and broke you because it was easier than admitting I was broken."
I stare at him, really seeing him for the first time. Not the cruel Alpha heir. Not my tormentor. But a boy who was tortured into becoming a monster.
"You hurt me," I whisper, and fresh tears spill down my cheeks. "More than anyone. More than my parents ignoring me. More than Stella's cruelty. You—" My voice cracks. "You made me feel like I deserved to be nothing."
"I know." Daemon leans his forehead against mine. "I know, and I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Kira. I can't take it back. I can't undo what I did. But I swear—I swear on my life, on my Alpha title, on everything I am—if you give me a chance, I'll spend every day proving I can be better."
Through the bond, I feel his sincerity. His anguish. His desperate love that terrifies him because he's never felt it before.
"The healer!" Elder Thorne hobbles over with her medical bag. She takes one look at me and her face goes grim. "Get her inside. Now."
Daemon carries me into the nearest cabin—Knox's, I think—and lays me on the bed like I'm made of glass. Elder Thorne starts working immediately, her hands glowing with healing magic.
"The bond damage is severe," she mutters. "Weeks of half-rejection, then Moira's attack exploiting it—" She presses harder on my chest and I scream. "I can stabilize her, but the bond is still deteriorating. Completing it bought her time, not a cure."
"How much time?" Daemon demands.
"Days. Maybe a week." Elder Thorne won't meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. The damage is too deep. Unless—" She stops.
"Unless what?" Daemon grabs her shoulder. "Tell me!"
"Unless you complete the mating ritual fully. The physical claiming." Elder Thorne's cheeks flush. "It would seal the bond permanently, flood her system with your Alpha essence, and counteract the dark magic's effects. But Kira would have to consent, and given everything—"
"No," I interrupt weakly. "Not... like that. Not because I'm... dying."
Daemon's jaw clenches. "Then we find another way."
"There is no other way," Elder Thorne says sadly. "I'm sorry, but that's the truth. Complete the bond fully, or..." She doesn't finish. She doesn't have to.
After she leaves, Daemon sits beside the bed, holding my hand like he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go.
"I won't force you," he says quietly. "Even if it means—even if you—" He can't say it. "Your choice, Kira. Always your choice."
I study his face. The sharp angles. The silver-grey eyes that used to look at me with disgust but now hold only desperate hope. The hands that shoved me into puddles now holding mine so gently.
"Tell me about the challenge," I say instead.
Daemon tenses. "How did you—"
"Zara told me before the attack. You challenged your father for me." I squeeze his hand weakly. "Don't die for me, Daemon. I'm not worth it."
His laugh is bitter. "You're worth everything. You're worth more than this pack, this title, this life. You're—" He stops, struggling for words. "You're the only good thing fate ever gave me, and I nearly destroyed you. If I die fighting my father, at least I die protecting you instead of hurting you."
"But I don't want you to die." The words surprise me as much as him. "I'm still angry. I'm still hurt. But—" I touch his face, feeling his wolf purr through the bond. "I don't want you dead."
"Then I'll win." He turns his face into my palm. "I'll win, become Alpha, and make sure no one ever hurts you again."
"Your father is stronger. Older. More experienced."
"I'm more motivated." Daemon's eyes burn with determination. "He wants power. I want you. Guess which one makes you fight harder?"
Outside, there's a commotion. Cain bursts through the door, his face white.
"We have a problem. Moira's talking."
"Let her rot," Daemon snarls.
"No, you need to hear this." Cain looks at me, then back at Daemon. "She says she has information. About your mother."
Daemon goes completely still. "My mother's dead. Killed by rogues ten years ago."
"That's what your father told everyone." Cain swallows hard. "But Moira says that's a lie. She says your mother ran away from Alpha Ryker's abuse, and he—" He stops, looking sick. "Daemon, she says your father murdered your mother and blamed rogues to cover it up."
The room spins. Daemon's face drains of all color.
"No," he whispers. "No, that's—she's lying. She's trying to manipulate—"
"Moira says she has proof," Cain continues gently. "Letters your mother wrote before she died. Hidden journals. She'll give them to you in exchange for exile instead of execution."
Daemon stands abruptly, his whole body shaking. Through the bond, I feel his world collapsing. The mother he mourned for ten years—murdered by his own father?
"I need to see her," Daemon says, his voice hollow. "I need to know if she's telling the truth."
"Wait." I try to sit up, but my body won't cooperate. "Daemon, this could be a trap. What if she's lying to escape punishment?"
"What if she's not?" Daemon looks at me, and his eyes are full of so much pain it steals my breath. "What if my father killed my mother, and I've been following his orders for ten years? Training to become just like him?"
He's spiraling. I can feel it through the bond—panic, rage, horror all tangled together.
"Then we find out together," I say firmly. "You don't face this alone. That's what mates do, right? We face the nightmares together?"
Something softens in his expression. "You'd do that? After everything?"
"I'm still deciding if I forgive you," I admit. "But I'm not letting you walk into darkness alone. Not when I know what that feels like."
Daemon leans down and kisses my forehead, gentle as a prayer. "Rest. Heal. I'll deal with Moira, and then—"
"Sir!" Another warrior bursts in. "Message from Silvercrest. It's urgent."
Daemon takes the sealed letter, his face darkening as he reads. When he finishes, he crumples the paper in his fist.
"What is it?" I ask, though I already know it's bad.
"My father moved up the challenge. Not next week—tomorrow at dawn." Daemon's voice is dead calm, which is somehow more terrifying than rage. "He felt the bond complete. He knows I chose you. And he's not giving me time to recover or prepare."
Tomorrow. Not seven days to train and heal. Tomorrow.
"You can't fight him tomorrow," I say desperately. "You're exhausted. You just battled Moira's warriors. You need rest, you need—"
"I need you alive," Daemon interrupts. "And the only way to guarantee that is to win tomorrow and become Alpha. Then I can protect you from my father, from Moira, from everyone."
"What if you lose?"
"I won't." But through the bond, I feel his fear. He's not confident—he's terrified. But he's doing it anyway.
"There's more," Cain says quietly, holding up another letter. "This one's from Stella. She's challenged Kira for the Luna position. Says as the former fiancée and a full-blooded warrior, she has the right to claim what should have been hers."
My blood runs cold. "She wants to fight me? Now? When I can barely stand?"
"Pack law states challenges must happen within three days of being issued." Cain's expression is grave. "If you don't fight her, you forfeit your position as Luna and the pack can reject your mate claim."
"This is insane!" I struggle to sit up. "I just fought off Moira's attack! Stella knows I'm weakened—that's why she's doing this now!"
"She's doing it because she's smart," Daemon says bitterly. "While I'm fighting my father, Stella fights you. If she wins and you die, the mate bond breaks and I'm free to marry her. If my father wins and I die, you're weakened enough that Stella can claim Luna position anyway."
"They planned this together," I realize. "Ryker and Stella. The timing isn't coincidence."
Daemon's hands clench into fists. "They're trying to eliminate both of us in one day."
Through the bond, we feel each other's terror. Tomorrow morning, we both fight. And there's a very real chance neither of us survives.
"I'm not strong enough," I whisper, hating how broken I sound. "The bond damage, Moira's attack—Stella will kill me."
"No." Daemon sits beside me, taking both my hands. "You're a Silver Wolf. You're stronger than her, stronger than all of them. You just need to remember that."
"I can barely walk!"
"Then we have tonight." He stands, his Alpha command filling the room. "Cain, get every healer in this settlement. I don't care what it takes—they heal Kira tonight. Knox, Sera, start training her the second she can stand. I want her ready to fight by dawn."
"And you?" Cain asks.
"I'm going to talk to Moira." Daemon's smile is cold and sharp. "If my father really killed my mother, I'm going to know about it before I rip out his throat."
He starts to leave, then turns back. "Kira—if tomorrow goes wrong. If I don't make it—"
"Don't," I interrupt, my voice fierce despite my weakness. "Don't you dare say goodbye. We're both surviving tomorrow. Both of us."
"Both of us," he agrees.
But as he walks out, heading toward Moira's prison, I feel his certainty through the bond:
He thinks one of us is dying tomorrow.
And he's already decided it's going to be him.