Page 108 of The Cursed Wolf King

The pulse of it shot outward, a ripple that cracked through the silence like a thunderclap. It tore through the pack, lighting up every connection, every thread of energy that tied them together. Wolves around us froze, their heads lowering instinctively as the weight of it pressed over them. Reverence, submission, and recognition.

Logan was now their leader. And I was his mate.

I pressed my face into the curve of Logan’s neck, breathing him in. The scent of him, earthy and electric, filled my senses, grounding me in this impossible moment.

“You will never have to fear that beast again. It’s over.” His breath sent shivers down my spine, hot and tinted with the smell of Grayson’s blood. “It’s finally over.”

I pulled back enough to look at him, my hands trembling as they settled against his face. His skin was warm under my fingers.

“No,” I whispered, a new energy having taken hold of my heart. “It’s the beginning.”

The truth of it resonated through me, through us, as the Heraclid wolves began to shift back to their human forms, some stepping forward tentatively, others still bowing their heads. Their unspoken questions were hanging in the fragile moment Logan and I had created.

Logan’s hands tightened on my waist. “They’re ours now,” he said softly. “They can feel it.”

“Ours?” I couldn’t formulate my question, the whirlwindof the past days, hours, and minutes making it impossible to think, let alone process what this turn of events meant for the Heraclid pack—or for us.

But I could feel it. The way their emotions brushed against my mind, hesitant but curious, fractured but hopeful. It wasn’t just Logan’s victory. It was about the energy we’d shared as a pack, the power we’d unleashed together. It had touched them too, changed them.

The world felt like it was rebuilding itself piece by piece around us. Logan loosened his hold on me as he looked over the clearing. Hundreds of wolves, unmoving, the atmosphere thick with the collective emotions of a pack that had lost everything they knew.

Ours.

Rhys approached us first, his steps measured but unhurried, a calm that belied the sharpness in his eyes. He clapped Logan on the shoulder.

“You’re glowing, my brother,” Rhys said, raising his eyebrows. “Not figuratively. Look.”

Logan frowned, lifting his arm. His Orion mark shimmered faintly in the dim light, the glow subtle but unmistakable. The silvery lines seemed alive, shifting with his movements, the energy radiating from the mark mirroring the renewed strength in him. He flexed his fingers experimentally, his expression unreadable.

“Eve,” he said, turning to me with a sudden intensity. “Let me see your arm.”

I hesitated, then slowly extended my arm. Logan caught my wrist gently, turning it so the light fell over my skin. Sure enough, a faint glow emanated from the mark, and it grew brighter as he held me. My breath caught as new lines beganto form over my existing Heraclid mark. A shape, intricate and beautiful, like nothing I’d ever seen.

It was more than a mark. It was a fusion. Orion and Heraclid intertwined into a seamless, mesmerizing design that pulsed with its own life.

“That’s…” My voice faltered.

Kenza stepped forward and lowered herself onto one knee in front of me. Her head dipped low as she said, “The alphas of Heraclid.”

The words hit me like a thunderclap, ringing in my ears. I snapped my head to Logan. He stood silently beside me.

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “It’s not me. It’s Logan. He’s the alpha. I’m?—”

“We’re writing history.” Logan cut through my protests with quiet authority. “And history doesn’t always follow the rules.”

“But—” I started. The words died in my throat as I looked around. The Heraclid wolves, the pack I had known most of my life, their faces were filled with wariness and hope. The faces I expected to see—the elites, the enforcers, Alaric—were nowhere to be found.

“They’re gone,” Logan said. His jaw tightened, and the air around him shifted, his alpha rolling out like a wave. “The ones who held the most power under Grayson… They’re either hiding or planning their next move.”

Kenza looked at me with a new reverence. My friend, my confidante, my most staunch supporter, was laying the path for me. “The pack is waiting. Together, you are our alphas, and we need you.”

My wolf stirred, her energy poised and certain, but myheart was filled with doubt. I glanced at Logan again, seeking an answer, an anchor.

“She’s right,” he said. “They need us.” He stepped forward, the crowd parting instinctively as his presence filled the clearing. His voice rolled over the gathered wolves like a salve.

“I know what you’re feeling,” he began, his gaze sweeping over the faces in front of him. “Grayson ruled through control, through intimidation. He kept you in line by making you believe there was no other way. That you had to bow or be broken.”

The tension in the air seemed to ripple at his words, the burden of collective memories pressing down on the pack. Logan stood strong.

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