The council room was thick with tension.
Joel sat at the head of the long table, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, watching Jesse with the kind of cold amusement reserved for pests you were deciding whether or not to crush.
I stood at Joel's right side—my place, my earned place—and watched Jesse squirm.
He didn't show it openly, of course. Jesse was too proud for that.
But I could see the slight stiffness in his shoulders, the tightness around his mouth.
He wasn't here to negotiate from a position of strength.
He was here because he had no other choice.
Joel leaned back in his chair, stretching lazily. "You said this was urgent, Blood Moon. Speak."
Jesse's golden eyes flicked toward me for the barest moment before settling on Joel.
"We need an alliance," he said tightly.
The room fell silent.
And then Joel barked a laugh.
"An alliance?" he repeated, grinning as if he'd heard the best joke all week. "You think Silvermoon would ally with you? After what your pack did to Athena?"
The others at the table—our warriors, our council members—nodded grimly.
They knew the full story. I had never hidden it.
Jesse's jaw clenched. "That wasn't the decision of the entire Blood Moon Pack."
"No," I said, my voice cutting across the room like a blade. "Just its Alpha."
Jesse's gaze snapped to me. His mouth opened, like he wanted to argue—but he closed it again.
Good.
He was learning.
Joel shrugged. "Why should we lift a finger to help you?"
There was a beat of hesitation. Jesse's shoulders tensed.
And then he said it.
"Juliana betrayed me."
The words fell into the room like a bomb.
For a moment, I just stared at him.
Joel's brows lifted slightly. "Explain."
Jesse swallowed hard. "Juliana's been passing information to our enemies. Strategic locations. Patrol schedules. Weak points in our defenses."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "She's the reason our borders are crumbling. The reason our allies are abandoning us."
I folded my arms across my chest, my heart thudding—not with sympathy.
With dark satisfaction.
The woman he had chosen over me.
The woman he had destroyed me for.
She had betrayed him.
But Jesse wasn't done.
He dragged a hand through his hair, his facade cracking further. "The child...he's not mine."
Silence.
A sharp, brutal silence that tasted like victory.
Joel whistled low. "Damn. That's rough."
I didn't speak.
I just stared at Jesse—this man who had once looked at me like I was dirt under his boots—now unraveling before my very eyes.
He looked…hollow.
Exactly how I had looked three years ago, curled on a dungeon floor, begging for mercy that never came.
Poetic.
Deliciously, savagely poetic.
Joel leaned forward, his smile gone. "So let me get this straight. You're here because your precious Juliana destroyed your pack from the inside out. And now you're desperate enough to crawl to the woman you tried to destroy for help?"
Jesse's face twisted.
"Blood Moon is dying," he said flatly. "If we don't secure allies, we'll fall. And so will everyone who ever stood with us."
Joel chuckled. "Sounds like a personal problem."
He turned to me then, a glint in his icy blue eyes. "What do you think, Beta Athena? Should we help our old friend?"
All eyes turned to me.
Jesse's included.
But where there had once been arrogance, now there was something else.
Desperation.
He needed me.
He needed the woman he had broken.
The irony was so thick I could barely breathe through it.
I tilted my head slightly, pretending to consider.
Every part of me—the girl who had once loved him, the woman who had survived him—screamed for revenge.
For blood.
For the satisfaction of turning my back the way he once turned his.
But revenge wasn't always about destruction.
Sometimes it was about making them live with what they had lost.
I smiled slowly, coldly.
"I think," I said, my voice ringing clearly through the council room, "we should let Blood Moon rot."
A few warriors barked short, savage laughs.
Joel's smile widened. "You heard the lady."
Jesse stiffened. "Athena, please."
It was the first time he had ever said my name like that—like a plea.
Like I mattered.
But it was three years too late.
I stood from my chair, adjusting my jacket calmly.
"You made your choice, Jesse," I said, meeting his golden eyes without a flicker of weakness.
"Now live with it."
He stared at me, a thousand words he couldn't say trapped behind his clenched teeth.
But it didn't matter.
I turned away.
I didn't need his words.
I didn't need his regret.
I had already won.
The warning came just as twilight dipped the sky into bruised shades of purple and gold.
A sharp howl ripped through the air, cutting across the training fields like a blade.
A sentinel's alarm.
Attack.
I was already moving before the second call went up, racing toward the outer courtyard where Joel stood, surrounded by warriors snapping into formation.
"They're coming from the east," one of the scouts panted, his face pale. "At least four dozen wolves—armed."
Joel's expression darkened. "Blood Moon's enemies?"
I nodded grimly.
Of course it was them.
Juliana's little sabotage was finally bearing fruit—and we were about to pay the price.
"Positions!" Joel barked.
Silvermoon sprang into motion—organized, lethal, ready.
I spun toward the squad leaders, my voice sharp and commanding.
"Guard the western flank! Archers on the ridge! Rogues try to split and flank—cut them off before they get close!"
They snapped to obey without hesitation.
I barely noticed Jesse moving to stand beside Joel, tension radiating from him.
"Let me help," Jesse said roughly.
Joel sneered. "You've helped enough, Blood Moon."
But I cut in smoothly, my eyes locked on the dark shapes cresting the eastern hills.
"Fine. But you take orders from me, Jesse. Step out of line once—and I'll gut you myself."
There wasn't an ounce of jest in my voice.
Jesse hesitated—then nodded once, stiffly.
Good.
A low growl rippled through the ground as the enemy pack poured over the hilltop, snarling, snapping, a wave of teeth and rage.
There was no time for fear.
Only war.
I shifted mid-run, the familiar tear of muscle and bone giving way to my wolf form—sleek, powerful, dark as the night itself.
Silvermoon met the enemy with a roar.
The first clash was brutal.
Teeth sank into flesh.
Claws raked over ribs.
I ducked low, tearing into the first rogue that lunged at me, my jaws clamping around his throat. Blood sprayed hot across my muzzle as I tossed him aside like a rag doll.
All around me, the air was a symphony of snarls, screams, and snapping bone.
I fought like I had nothing to lose.
Because I didn't.
Another rogue charged me—a huge, scarred brute—but before he could reach me, Jesse barreled into him from the side, slamming the wolf into the dirt.
He didn't look at me.
Didn't expect thanks.
Good.
He wasn't getting any.
We fought side by side—silent, lethal, efficient.
And as much as I hated to admit it, Jesse was still a force to be reckoned with.
But so was I.
A rogue lunged toward one of the younger Silvermoon warriors—barely more than a pup.
I crossed the distance in a blur, slamming into the attacker before he could land the killing blow.
My jaws snapped down on his spine, ending it instantly.
The young warrior gaped at me, wide-eyed.
"Thank you, Beta!"
I gave a short growl in acknowledgment before turning back to the fray.
Hours felt like minutes.
Minutes felt like a lifetime.
The battle raged until the night was littered with bodies—ours and theirs.
But when the dust finally settled, when the enemy wolves retreated, dragging their wounded and dying back into the trees, Silvermoon stood victorious.
Bruised. Bloodied.
But victorious.
I shifted back into my human form, blood dripping from my hands, my breathing harsh.
Joel strode across the battlefield, surveying the carnage. He stopped beside me, his sharp gaze sweeping over the remaining warriors.
"We held," he said simply.
I nodded, wiping blood from my jaw.
But my eyes drifted—despite myself—to Jesse.
He stood several feet away, his clothes torn, blood streaked across his skin.
And for the first time since he had arrived, he looked...lost.
Not because of the battle.
Because the world he had destroyed for Juliana had finally crumbled beneath him.
And now, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with the pack that had rejected him, Jesse realized:
He had nothing left.
No pack.
No mate.
No son.
Nothing.
I met his gaze across the bloodstained field.
And for the first time, it was Jesse who looked away first.
The battlefield was eerily silent.
Only the occasional groan of the wounded broke the heavy stillness, the scent of blood thick in the air.
I moved among the warriors, checking injuries, offering brief words of praise or instruction where needed.
My hands were steady. My mind was sharp.
There was no room for weakness.
Not here.
Not now.
The medics rushed to stabilize the worst cases, dragging the wounded back toward the infirmary. Blood smeared the dirt in dark, jagged lines, but the dead—ours and theirs—had already begun to be separated into grim rows.
Another victory.
But it didn't feel like it used to.
Victory didn't taste sweet.
It tasted like iron and ash.
I paused near the edge of the courtyard, taking a slow breath, letting the cool night air bite into my lungs.
Across the field, Jesse stood alone.
No warriors tended to him.
No one offered him water or bandages.
He wasn't one of us.
He was an outsider.
Exactly where he had left me years ago.
Our eyes met briefly across the bloodstained distance—but I looked away first this time, not out of weakness, but because he no longer mattered enough to hold my gaze.
Let him stand there.
Let him feel it.
Joel approached then, his steps slow but sure. His blue eyes swept over the battlefield before settling on me.
"You held the line," he said quietly.
I nodded once. "We all did."
Joel studied me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.
"You're wasted as just a Beta," he said, almost to himself.
I said nothing.
But something in my chest twisted sharply.
A hunger.
A thirst.
Not for Jesse.
Not for revenge anymore.
For power.
For more.
For everything they had once said I wasn't worthy of.
Joel clapped a hand lightly on my shoulder. "Get some rest. You've earned it."
I inclined my head, but as he turned to leave, his voice dropped low enough for only me to hear.
"Be ready. News like tonight's travels fast."
I frowned. "What news?"
Joel didn't answer.
He just smiled—sharp and knowing—and disappeared into the night.
I stood there for a moment longer, breathing in the scent of smoke and blood.