CHAPTER 75: LIKE A STORM

Magnus

"Well, that was pretty fucking disappointing," Aksel mutters as he claps a heavy hand on my shoulder—a rough, awkward gesture that’s probably meant to be supportive.

I nod, though I don’t have the energy to respond with anything more. Words feel too heavy right now.

I can’t even remember the last time I felt this exhausted. The moment I let go of Kaya’s limp body, I was pulled away—summoned to the border over another ghoul invasion alert. Only this time, the bastard we caught wasn’t a ghoul at all.

He was a fucking spy—disguised as one.

And though he died before I could send him to the Moon Goddess myself, I got what I needed. He was Windthorne’s agent.

And I am so goddamn done with that bastard trying to push me past my limits.

But as much as I want to tear Windthorne apart with my bare hands, he’s not my priority right now. Not even close.

I still haven’t had the chance to investigate Kaya’s drugging—haven’t even seen her since I brought her back. And though my body is on the edge of collapse, my mind won’t rest until I get answers.

"I’ll file a report with the King’s office," Aksel sighs, gesturing to the rest of the unit to fall in line and head back toward the mansion.

"Send an official warning to Dark Wood while you’re at it," I grunt, my voice low and sharp.

But instead of the usual wordless compliance, Aksel stops and arches a brow at me, arms folding across his chest.

"Are you sure? You know the King’s not going to like that."

"I don’t care." I force myself not to snap, even though rage is clawing through every inch of me. "I don’t give a shit what Windthorne does with other packs. But the moment he sets foot near my borders—this territory—I’m not letting it slide."

"Got it," Aksel finally says before turning on his heel and disappearing down the path, leaving me standing alone.

I don’t move. I’m not sure I can go back into that house just yet.

Not because I don’t want to start the investigation—but because going in means facing Kaya again. And after what happened last night... I don’t think I’m ready. Because I feel guilty. I have failed her.

I’m not sure I can take the questions she’s bound to ask. And worse—I don’t know if I have the answers she deserves.

I don’t know... how to tell her the truth.

My chest feels heavy as I round the corner of one of the annex buildings, my thoughts a mess of guilt and hesitation. But before I can take another step, the air shifts—sharp and sudden, like a hard slap in the face.

And then it hits me for real.

That scent.

Otherworldly. Sweet. Irresistibly familiar. It belongs to her—Kaya. But this time, it’s laced with something colder, something bitter and raw.

That’s how I know. She’s near.

And she’s in danger.

My wolf growls, I break into a run, and just a few dozen strides later, around the back of another annex, I see her.

But not in her usual form.

She’s a wolf—a majestic, powerful creature cloaked in fur so pale it shimmers like moonlight. Streaks of silver slash across her back and limbs, catching the light like molten steel.

She’s massive. Magnificent. Ethereal.

And covered in blood.

Not hers.

It belongs to the wolf beneath her—a crumpled, barely breathing shape she’s moments away from finishing off.

"Kaya!" The name tears from my throat—louder than I meant, but there’s no stopping it.

She flinches. Her ears twitch, perking toward the sound. I know she hears me. I see the hesitation ripple through her as her jaw loosens slightly from the other wolf’s neck.

But she doesn’t let go.

Not fully.

Not yet.

"Kaya!" I shout again, careful not to shift or rush toward her. I don’t want to startle her into madness. She told me she couldn’t control her wolf, and the last thing I want is to trigger a complete break—to turn her into a mindless killer.

This time, she reacts—her silver eyes widen, flickering with recognition and sheer panic. And then she bolts.

She runs like she’s fleeing the scene of a crime, terrified of judgment, of punishment.

For a heartbeat, I just stand there, stunned.

Then it all clicks.

The blood. The torn fur. The limp body at her feet.

Gloria.

I recognize the wounded wolf now—and with that, the pieces fall into place. My investigation just solved itself... without ever truly beginning.

But that’s not what matters now. Right now, all that matters is making sure Gloria survives—and stopping Kaya before she disappears for good.

’Oliver.’ I reach for my Beta through the mind link, already on the move. ’Training grounds. Annexed section. Now. Gloria’s down.’

’What?!’ His voice cuts through, thick with grogginess. He’s clearly trying to shake off sleep. ’What happened?’

’I don’t have time to explain.’ I respond sharply—not out of irritation, but fear. I can’t afford to lose Kaya’s trail. ’Just make sure she lives.’

’Got it.’ His voice steadies, and the link cuts off.

I feel a brief wave of relief. Oliver’s on it. Now I can focus on what matters most.

Kaya.

Her wolf’s scent is potent—wild, stormy, tinged with panic and fright. It pulls me through the trees like a lifeline, leading me deeper into the forest. My heart pounds in rhythm with my racing feet.

And then I hear it.

A howl. Loud. Desperate. Broken.

I pause, breath ragged from the brutal pace I forced out of my already-exhausted body. Kaya halts too, her massive wolf form growling—not with rage, but with something far more primal. Agony.

Her silver eyes lock onto mine, wild and feral, and the warning in them is crystal clear: Come closer, and I will tear you apart.

And Goddess... I believe her.

But this isn’t the time to be intimidated.

Athan snarls in the back of my mind, demanding to be released. He wants to protect us—to shift, to take control, to face her beast with our own.

But I refuse.

If I shift, she’ll see me as a bigger threat. And I need her to recognize me. Not the Alpha. Not the warrior. Just me.

So I raise my hands in surrender and take a cautious step forward.

"Kaya," I say softly, letting her name settle in the air between us.

Her response is immediate—fangs bared, muscles tense, a guttural growl vibrating from deep within her chest.

"Kaya, listen to me," I try again, voice steady despite the thundering of my heart. I inch forward, every movement calculated and slow, each step a silent plea.

A twig cracks beneath my boot.

She barks—sharp and loud—and snaps her bloodied jaws in warning. Stay back.

But I can’t. And I won’t.

"Kaya," I murmur, my tone gentler now, more desperate. "Listen to my voice. Do you know who I am? Can you still hear me in there?"

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t retreat. Her hackles rise as the silver streaks along her back shimmer like blades in the moonlight. Her paw scrapes at the ground, claws gouging deep furrows into the earth, and I wonder how Gloria survived even a single blow from that power.

"Kaya," I whisper again, "I don’t want to hurt you—I can’t hurt you. So please—"

I don’t get to finish. She lunges.

No warning. No hesitation.

Just raw force, speed, and fury.

She crashes into me like a storm, unstoppable, unrelenting, majestic.