Page 69 of The Cursed Wolf King

“About time,” I muttered, clapping a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. The tension in my body eased slightly at the solidness of him, the steadiness that had always been there. “Tellher to meet us in the hall. I want the whole inner circle there.”

Rhys nodded, his stride already quickening as he turned toward the central hall. He hesitated, glancing back at me with a rare, almost wistful expression.

“Logan,” he said. “This feels different. Like maybe this time we’ll actually get ahead of them. I think we’re close to something.”

I stopped walking, studying him. The weariness I’d seen in him these past few days hadn’t vanished, but he was practically bouncing with anticipation.

“We’ll see,” I said, though I knew exactly what he meant. We shared it through our bond.

He nodded, his gaze dropping briefly to my forearm, to the inked marks I knew weighed equally on him. “They’d have wanted this.” He choked up. “Us fighting for the pack, for what we’ve lost.”

My throat tightened at the thought of them. “Wyatt and Nash would have been right beside us every step of the way,” I agreed quietly, my hand unconsciously brushing over the tattoos. My brothers’ names, their memories, their sacrifices—they were all there, woven into the fabric of who I was.

“I still see them sometimes, feel them, even though a part of me wonders if they are just ghosts,” Rhys whispered. “You?”

“Every damn day,” I admitted, the words coming out rougher than I intended. “I’ll carry them until the end.”

Rhys didn’t reply immediately. The look he gave me said everything.

“They’d be proud of you too,” he finally said. “Even when you doubt yourself. Especially then.”

I looked away. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said, trying to lighten the tone, though the weight in my chest remained. “We’ve got a lot to figure out before we start thinking about pride.”

Rhys smirked faintly, his old self shining through. “Fair enough.”

He turned again toward the hall, and I watched him go for a moment before following. My fingers brushed over the tattoos one last time, a silent promise forming on my lips.

“We’ll make this right,” I murmured under my breath.

Energy coursed through me like a wildfire. Isabelle’s findings, Rhys’s optimism—it was enough to make me believe we had a real shot. A chance to take Orion back to its true place among the Shadow Moon packs. As I strode through the village, my mind buzzed with strategies and plans, but beneath it all, the pull I had tried to set aside for this past week was taking over my senses.

Whatever happened next, I needed to share it with her. I had spent the last week convincing myself that distance was necessary, that ignoring the bond growing between us was the only way to focus on the pack. Now, with real momentum in our fight against the Heraclids, all I could think about was her—her voice, her insight, her belief in me that went way beyond my being the alpha.

She belonged at my side.

She deserved to know that no matter how much I fought it, I wanted her there for every step of this fight.

My feet knew the path to my grandparents’ former home even when my thoughts were elsewhere. When Iknocked on the door, there was no answer. I tried again, but still only silence greeted me.

I checked the common kitchen next, stepping into the bustling space. My nose caught traces of her scent, but she wasn’t there either.

“Saul,” I called, spotting him arranging herbs at a nearby table. “Where’s Eve?”

“She said she wasn’t feeling well,” he replied. “Thought some fresh air might help.”

Not well? The high I had been riding dampened. “Where?”

Saul hesitated, then stepped closer. He lowered his voice, checking to make sure no one else in the kitchen was listening before turning to me. “Alpha, have you noticed what’s been happening to her these past days?”

“What are you talking about?” I hadn’t noticed. I’d also been more than a little distracted. What I noticed in her, I chalked up to a very difficult—well—life. She had never experienced a true pack before, and that was bound to have consequences.

Saul folded his arms, brows drawing together. “She’s been… curling in on herself. Like a turtle, little by little, each day. At first, I thought she was adjusting, but—” He shook his head. “Now I’m not so sure.”

I frowned, my mind racing. “I thought she was settling in.”

“She is. Maybe that’s the rub.” Saul raised an eyebrow.

I turned and left the kitchen, heading toward the edge of the village. My instincts sharpened as I paused, seeking her out on the breeze. Her scent was faint, but it was enough. Iinhaled deeply, letting it guide me, but it would be hard for me to track her like this.

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