Chapter 5

Weston

I tore down the servants’ staircase, taking two stairs at a time. The last few steps disappeared beneath me as I vaulted them and landed hard on the wooden floor.

Alexandra lay crumpled near the balusters where they had broken the worst of her fall.

I dropped to my knees beside her.

“Alex. Look at me.”

Her eyes fluttered open.

“Don’t move.” I forced my voice steady. My hands hovered over her, afraid to touch the wrong place. “Can you feel your legs?”

“I think so,” she croaked.

The panic that had been clawing at me finally released its grip.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.” She winced, one hand moving toward her ribs. “But I’m okay.”

She clearly wasn’t. She had already had a fractured rib before Hailey shoved her over the railing. But she was conscious, and breathing, and both of those were more than I'd let myself expect on the way down.

Then I looked up.

Hailey stood at the top of the stairs, white-faced. Two royal guards had already reached her, each gripping one of her arms as she tried to pull away.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked.

I slowly rose to my feet. Nox surged beneath my skin, snarling in my mind.

Kill her.

I took one step toward the stairs.

“Weston…” Alexandra’s weak voice stopped me. “Please.”

“She could have killed you.” I didn’t look away from Hailey.

She struggled harder against the guards. “It was an accident!”

“Don’t lie to me.” The growl in my voice made her flinch.

“Weston, stop!”

I glanced over my shoulder—Alex had pushed herself onto one elbow, pain written across her face. “Please. Not like this.”

I turned to face her. “Then give me one reason I shouldn’t tear her apart right now.”

The words came out rougher than my own voice. Heat burned behind my eyes, and I felt the shift start before I saw her react.

Then it clicked. Nox was staring back at her through my eyes. She was afraid.

But Alexandra swallowed and held my gaze anyway. “B-Because I’m asking you not to.”

I stood there breathing hard, Nox tearing at my control.

Let me out.

No. You’re scaring our mate.

I forced a breath into my lungs and crouched beside Alexandra. She winced when she tried to move, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Come here,” I said as gently as I could.

She nodded and let me lift her into my arms. Her head settled against my shoulder.

I carried her up the staircase. Before I reached the top landing, footsteps thundered through the servants’ corridor.

Dominic appeared through the broken door first. My father was directly behind him.

Darius followed. Callahan was right behind him. He stopped dead when he saw Alexandra in my arms.

His face drained. “Alex?”

Hailey twisted toward him. “Cal—”

His gaze snapped to her. “What did you do?”

“Cal!” Hailey cried. “Make them let me go!”

Darius’s expression hardened. “Unhand my daughter! Now!”

Neither guard moved.

I adjusted Alexandra carefully against my chest.

“They will do no such thing.”

Darius stepped forward. “You have no right to detain her!”

“She attacked a woman under Crown protection,” my father said. “In your house, after everything that happened tonight.” His expression stayed calm. “Choose which part of that you’d like to argue.”

Darius said nothing.

Neither did Callahan. He glared at Hailey with the kind of anger that came from knowing she had just made everything worse.

I looked down at Alexandra. Her face was pressed against my shoulder, eyes closed, one hand curled weakly into my shirt. She was trembling.

Nox roared in my mind. He wanted blood.

But getting Alex out of Blackridge mattered more than punishing Hailey.

“Dominic.”

“Yeah?”

“Get our things.”

Darius frowned. “What are you doing?”

I met his eyes. “Leaving.”

“The Council isn’t finished.”

“It is for me.” Then I turned toward my father. “We leave for Mooncrest now.”

***

Alex

I didn’t know if stopping Weston from killing Hailey had been the right thing to do, but I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

I never wanted to see Blackridge again.

As it disappeared behind us, Callahan flashed through my mind—the shock in his eyes when he saw me in Weston’s arms. Whatever he felt now was no longer mine to carry.

The drive to Mooncrest was supposed to take four hours. Instead, each mile seemed to stretch twice as long.

I sat in the backseat with my temple pressed against the cool window. Weston was beside me, Dominic occupied the front passenger seat, and one of the royal guards drove. A small royal convoy followed the road to Mooncrest, with Alpha King Roland in one of the cars behind us.

No one had trusted Weston behind the wheel while his wolf was still demanding that we turn around and tear Blackridge apart.

I couldn’t blame them.

My body protested every bump in the road. The fractured rib had been painful before Hailey threw me over a railing; now even breathing too deeply sent an ache through my side.

We probably should have waited until morning. But another hour in Blackridge would have felt worse than four hours of pain.

I shifted carefully against the seat. A tremor moved beneath my ribs.

At first, I thought I had aggravated the fracture. Then pale light appeared beneath the skin of my forearms.

I stared at it. The glow followed my veins toward my wrists, pulsing with every beat of my heart.

Calista?

Her answer came immediately.

It is not me.

My stomach dropped.

The lights inside the car flickered.

Dominic looked over his shoulder. “Weston.”

“I see it.”

The windows began to vibrate in their frames.

Heat spread through my chest, building until it felt as though something inside me was pressing outward, searching for room my body could not give it.

“I don’t know what’s happening.”

The window beside me cracked.

“Stop the car,” Weston ordered. Then he turned toward me. “Alexandra. Look at me.”

My breathing came faster. The silver light beneath my skin brightened.

Weston lifted his hand toward mine but stopped before touching me.

“May I?”

For a moment, I forgot about the power. No one in Blackridge had ever asked permission before putting their hands on me.

I nodded.

His fingers closed carefully around mine. The pressure inside me shifted. It didn’t disappear, but instead of fighting against my skin, the power seemed to turn toward him. The windows stopped trembling. The light beneath my arms faded gradually.

I sagged back against the seat. Weston kept hold of my hand, but loosely enough that I could pull away.

“Has that happened before?”

“No.”

“What did it feel like?”

I searched for the words. “Like my body was too small for whatever was inside it.”

His brow furrowed.

Dominic opened his door. “We’ll give you a minute.”

He and the driver stepped outside.

I looked down at Weston’s hand around mine. “You don’t have to keep doing this.”

His brow furrowed. “Doing what?”

“Protecting me.”

“I know.”

“You say that now.” I looked toward the dark road beyond the windshield. “But tomorrow you might decide I’m dangerous. Or politically inconvenient. Or not worth whatever bringing me to Mooncrest costs you.”

Weston was quiet for a moment. Then his grip loosened even more. “I can’t promise you this will be easy. My pack will have questions. The Council will interfere. If anyone learns what the doctor suspects, other Alphas may see you as an opportunity or a threat.”

“At least you’re honest.” My lips curled into a tiny smile.

“I can promise you something else.” That made me look at him. “No one makes your choices for you in Mooncrest. Not my father. Not the Council. Not me.”

Weston brushed his thumb once across my knuckles. “Take as much time as you need.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and gave him the smallest nod. I had spent seven years building walls high enough to survive behind them, and I still couldn’t imagine letting anyone through.

But as the road stretched toward Mooncrest, a fragile hope settled beneath the fear: maybe, this time, I wouldn’t have to face everything alone.

***

By the time the gates of Mooncrest appeared ahead of us, exhaustion had settled so deeply into my bones that even breathing felt like work.

Mooncrest was nothing like Blackridge. The packhouse rose beyond high stone walls, enormous but not oppressive, its towers still illuminated against the fading night. A pale gray line had begun to spread behind the mountains. Guards stood along the entrance, silver insignias catching the light as the gates opened for our convoy.

Welcome home, I guess, Calista whispered.

Home. The word brought an ache I wasn’t ready for.

“Alright, we’re here,” Dominic said as the car stopped in the wide courtyard. He climbed out first and stretched his stiff back. Weston followed.

I hesitated, glancing down at the dress the maids had found for me before we left Blackridge. It was nicer than anything I had worn in seven years, but suddenly I felt painfully aware of how many eyes would be on me.

“Alexandra?” Weston stood beside the open door, offering me his hand.

I swallowed and took it. Pain pulled through my ribs as I stepped out, and my free hand went instinctively to my side.

“Easy,” he murmured, steadying me.

The massive doors swung open, and a tall man with blond hair and vivid green eyes strode toward us. His dark shirt was hastily buttoned.

“You really couldn’t wait until sunrise?” Adrian asked, pulling Dominic into a quick one-armed hug.

Dominic snorted and bumped his shoulder. “Miss us already?”

“I was enjoying the peace.”

Adrian’s gaze shifted to Roland, and he inclined his head. “Your Majesty.”

Roland’s mouth curved slightly. “Adrian.”

Then Adrian noticed me, and his smile faded into surprise.

Before he could say anything, another voice came from the doorway.

“Weston.”

At the top of the stairs, an elegant older woman was guiding her wheelchair forward with practiced ease. Her silver-blonde hair was gathered loosely at the nape of her neck, and a soft shawl was wrapped over her robe. There was nothing fragile about the way she held herself. A young woman stood behind her, one hand resting lightly on the handles.

“And no hello for me, darling?” Roland smiled as he approached her and leaned down to kiss her temple.

Her smile faded slightly. “You’re back early. Is everything all right?”

Roland glanced toward Weston, then at me.

“It’s complicated. I’ll explain later.”

Claire followed his gaze.

“Mother.” Weston stepped closer. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He squeezed my hand gently and drew me forward.

She studied me for a moment, and her expression changed. “My Goddess…”

Weston nodded. “This is Alexandra Delacroix.”

Her eyes softened with warmth and grief. “Oh, sweetheart.”

The affection in her voice startled me. She wheeled closer and took my hand carefully in hers.

“Look at you.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “You have Gwen’s eyes.”

My throat tightened. “You knew my mother?”

Her smile trembled. “I did. We were very close.” She squeezed my hand. “You were little, so I don’t expect you to remember me. You used to call me Aunt Claire.”

Something faint stirred at the edge of my memory.

“Aunt Claire…” I repeated.

Movement near the doorway caught my attention.

Another woman had appeared behind Claire.

She was beautiful. Long golden hair fell over the shoulders of a dark green dress, simple but perfectly fitted. She carried herself with the easy confidence of someone who had belonged here.

Claire looked over her shoulder. The warmth disappeared from her expression.

“Camilla,” she said quietly. “We weren’t expecting you this early.”

No one in that courtyard looked surprised.

Except me.

Calista stirred.

Who is she?

No one answered. Not even Weston.

Camilla’s gaze went to him first. Then to his hand still holding mine. Her expression faltered for a heartbeat before a composed smile replaced it.

“Weston.”

He went still beside me. “Camilla.”

The silence that followed was brief, but strange enough that I felt it.

Roland cleared his throat. “Weston, come with me. Dominic too. We need to talk.”