Page 112 of The Cursed Wolf King

I stayed anyway, finding work to do where I could. The Old Town was being rebuilt—and it was healing.

Watching Rhys out of the corner of my eye, I couldn’t shake the sense that he was distracted.

The day passed in a blur,the hours slipping by as I lost myself in the rhythm of the work.

I barely registered the approach of her steps until her scent reached me—wild apples and earthy cloves.

Eve. My wolf stirred immediately, and when I turned, there she was, framed by the setting sun. She demanded attention without asking for it. She’d grown into her role, her wolf’s power radiating with every move. My alpha and fated mate.

She stopped beside me, her hand brushing my arm. That one touch sent a flood of memories rushing through me—her laughter that morning, the warmth of her skin against mine, the way she looked at me like I was hers and hers alone. My wolf settled instantly, content in her nearness.

“It’s coming together,” she said, her voice low but carrying an edge of pride. “You’ve done good work.”

I shook my head, gesturing toward Rhys, who was deep in conversation with a group of workers across the square. “That’s all him. He’s the one keeping this place moving.”

Her expression softened. Her wolf was reading him, sensing the emotions beneath the surface. “He’s troubled,” she said quietly.

I nodded, pride and unease twisting together in my chest. “He’s been more contemplative since the packs joined. But he’s holding it together.”

Her eyes lingered on Rhys before she turned back to me, taking in a deep breath and smiling. “It’s time.”

“For what?”

“To bring them together,” she said as she backed away.

The fire blazed higherwith each added branch, the wood snapping and crackling as if it were alive, feeding on the collective energy of the pack. One by one, wolves approached, each holding a branch. The flames cast flickering shadows across their faces as they placed their offering into the fire and sparks shot into the night sky like tiny, fleeting stars.

As the wolves moved around the fire’s edge, something remarkable began to happen. On the far side of the blaze, Rhys and other waiting Orion wolves extended their hands to their new packmates, clasped their forearms together, or grasped each other in the traditional Orion greeting—small gestures of acknowledgment and connection. It was a silent welcome, a bridge between the Orions and Heraclids. Those who had hesitated the longest were met with understanding gazes, and some even received warm smiles or murmured words of encouragement.

The ritual unfolded slowly, rhythmically, each wolf adding their piece—giving something up to find something new. The atmosphere thickened with meaning, charged with something that felt less like tradition and more like transformation. This was unity being built in real time, branch by branch.

Eve stood beside me, her arm brushing mine. She scanned the gathering with the intensity only she could carry. “They still worry,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. “But they’re coming around.” I was being drawn into the reflection of the fire in her eyes. “I’m going to head over there. An alpha among them will help accelerate the bonding.”

I nodded. I felt it, too, the way the pack bond was growing,weaving through the gathered wolves like an unbreakable thread.

As the fire climbed higher, illuminating the plateau, I let myself breathe in the enormity of it. Grayson’s shadow was gone. The fracture that divided us for years was mending. And Eve—Eve was the heart of it all.

“Quite a spectacle.” The feminine voice was speaking inside my head. Not through the bond though, for the bond filled one’s mind, and her voice didn’t. Her voice was shrill, an arrow hitting between the eyes. She had to be using magic to communicate with me.

The unwelcome visitor nearly made me shift on the spot.

“Mariyah.”

I turned but couldn’t see her anywhere. As long as I was in human form, my senses would be limited. And Mariyah knew it.

I caught sight of a figure in the distance, cloaked in layers that merged with the night.

“Fires burn out, Logan. Even the brightest ones. And Orion remains incomplete.”

“You show up where you’re never wanted with cryptic warnings, and expect me to fear your empty riddles?” I controlled the wolf in my voice. Barely. Eve glanced at me, but I shook my head slightly, silently signaling her to stay put.

“Rebirth comes at a cost. This unity you’ve forged—it’s delicate. And it always will be as long as you allow that curse to eat into your pack’s bones. As long as you allow your twin brothers to wander the world, alone and troubled. Lost and aimless. Endangered and dangerous. Thathas never been Orion’s fate. And yet,” she sighed, “you allow it to continue. You have your precious little dove. Is that enough to make you forget your own blood, the brothers who were ready to sacrifice everything for you? Seems so.”

She had confirmed it: Wyatt and Nash were alive. But wandering the world? Lost and aimless? She raised more questions than she answered. Before I could ask, she melted away into the shadows. Her voice wafted through the air to me, magic prickling in her secret communication.

There will be no peace for Orion until the lost threads are woven together again.

Eve appeared at my side, taking my hand with a question in her eyes.

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