POV Soren
My wolf runs through shadow like water through stone.
The shift came easily tonight—easier than it has in years. My massive white form moves through the eastern tunnels with predatory grace, pale grey eyes cutting through darkness that would blind lesser wolves.
Every sense is heightened. Every muscle coiled for violence.
Behind me, somewhere in the main house, Matteo's distraction erupts. I hear the distant crash of furniture, the shouts of guards responding to chaos. The plan is working.
I push forward, tracking scents and sounds with ruthless efficiency. The tunnel narrows, then widens into the old wine cellars. Dust and decay fill my nostrils, but beneath it—fresh air. The exit is close.
Sebastian waits at the checkpoint, pressed against the stone wall in human form. His golden face is tight with tension, but his eyes are steady when they meet mine.
He nods once. Steps aside without a word.
Trust earned through unlikely alliance.
I signal with a low growl, and movement stirs in the darkness behind me.
Eva and Dominic emerge from the shadows, hands clasped, moving as one.
Dominic is weakened, I can smell the pain radiating from his wounds, see the careful way he holds himself, but determination burns in his dark eyes. He won't slow them down. He'd die before slowing them down.
Eva's gaze finds mine.
Gratitude. Grief. Goodbye. All compressed into a single glance that lasts barely a heartbeat.
I feel the weight of what I'm losing settle into my bones.
My child. My heir. The future I imagined in those quiet hours by the window—a boy with my eyes, a girl with her fire. None of it will happen now.
The woman I wanted but could never keep. She's so beautiful in the torchlight, even exhausted and afraid. So fierce. So brave.
I loved her. I love her still.
But love means letting go.
We move together through the final stretch of tunnel, emerging into cool night air. The forest edge rises before us, dark and welcoming.
And there—three horses waiting exactly where Matteo promised, saddled and ready for flight.
I shift back to human form, the change rippling through me with practiced ease. Eva turns at the sound, and for a moment we simply look at each other.
"Soren…" she starts.
I press the supply pack into her hands, cutting off whatever she was going to say. My fingers brush hers one final time—warm skin, delicate bones, the hands that once gripped my shoulders while I moved inside her.
No words. Words would break me.
"Go." My voice comes out rough. "Don't stop until you're beyond the border. Matteo's contacts will find you."
"The baby…" Eva's eyes glisten. "I'll tell them about you. When they're old enough. I'll make sure they know."
"Tell them their father wanted them to be happy." I step back, putting distance between us. "That's all that matters."
Dominic meets my gaze over Eva's shoulder. Something passes between us—respect, perhaps. Acknowledgment from one wolf to another.
"Protect them," I say.
"With my life." He means it. I can hear the truth in his voice.
Eva mounts her horse, Dominic swinging up behind her on his own. They turn toward the forest, toward freedom, toward a future I'll never see.
Then the guards come.
They pour from the tunnel entrance like a tide of fur and fangs—a dozen wolves in shifted form, snarling and savage. Someone betrayed us. Someone talked.
It doesn't matter now.
I shift before conscious thought catches up, my massive white wolf exploding into existence. I place myself between the threat and Eva's escape, every muscle coiled for violence.
"Ride!" I roar—or the wolf equivalent, a commanding howl that echoes through the night. "NOW!"
The first guard reaches me, and I tear into him without mercy.
Fangs find his throat. Blood sprays hot across my muzzle. He drops, and I'm already turning, already engaging the next wolf, the next, the next.
They're pack guards, trained fighters, but I am Soren Kjelland. I am the Ice Prince of the North.
I have never lost a fight.
Claws rake down my side, and I barely feel it. Fangs tear into my shoulder, and I rip free, taking a chunk of my attacker with me. Blood, mine, theirs, paints the grass in dark streaks.
Behind me, I hear hoofbeats. Horses surging into motion. Eva's voice calling something I can't make out over the snarls and howls.
Go, I think. Go and don't look back.
Another wolf lunges. I catch him mid-air, jaws closing around his spine. He drops limp. Two more take his place.
I fight like I've never fought before. Brutal. Relentless. Every technique I've ever learned, every instinct my wolf possesses, channeled into this single purpose.
Buy them time. Buy them seconds. Buy them escape.
The hoofbeats fade into the distance.
Gone. They're gone.
Safe.
Something gives way inside me—relief so profound it nearly brings me to my knees. Eva will live. Dominic will protect her. My child will be born into freedom, not chains.
That's all that matters.
The guards close in, sensing my weakness. I'm bleeding from a dozen wounds now, white fur matted crimson. My legs shake. My vision blurs at the edges.
But Eva is safe.
I fall.
Blood pools beneath my white fur, warm and spreading. The surviving guards circle, but they don't finish me—they're waiting for something. Someone.
Pawsteps approach through the carnage.
Khalil emerges from the shadows, his wolf form dark brown and massive, amber eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Blood mats his fur—he's been fighting too, somewhere. Eliminating other threats. Making sure this moment would happen.
He shifts to human, standing over my broken form with cruel triumph.
"The Ice Prince." His voice drips with venom. "Brought low by love. How pathetically poetic."
I don't respond. Can't. The shift back to human would kill me faster, and I want every second I have left.
"At least one traitor will pay tonight." Khalil crouches beside me, amber eyes cold. "Your Northern pack will mourn. Your father will rage. And Eva..." His smile sharpens. "Eva will know that your death is on her conscience."
I close my eyes.
My last thought is of Eva—safe passage through the dark forest. A long and happy life with the man she loves. Our child raised to be a worthy wolf, to be brave and fierce like their mother.
I don't know if it's a boy or girl. I would be happy with either.
As long as the pup is healthy. As long as Eva smiles again. As long as my sacrifice meant something.
Khalil shifts back to wolf form. I feel his breath hot against my throat, his fangs pressing against my pulse.
I love you, I think, sending the words into the void where Eva will never hear them. Be happy.
Jaws close around my throat.
A moment of searing pain.
Then… Darkness. Silence.
Nothing.