Andrew's POV
Jamie stirred beside me, his eyelashes fluttering against flushed skin, and for a moment I thought he was still asleep, caught somewhere in the fragile space between dreams and pain. But then his breath caught, and I knew. He was awake.
I didn't speak. I watched him, silently willing the colour to return to his face. He'd healed, mostly. The pack healers said his body had recovered from the duel, but I could still see the heaviness in his eyes, the ghost of pain lingering just beneath the surface.
He blinked up at the ceiling, unfocused. The morning sun streamed in through the infirmary window, casting soft golden lines across the bed. Then his voice broke the stillness.
"I can't feel him," Jamie said, barely above a whisper.
I turned to him fully, startled.
He swallowed hard. "I can't feel my wolf. It's like… he's there, but I can't reach him." His voice cracked, trembling, and a single tear slipped down the side of his face, disappearing into the pillow.
I froze. That sentence—those words—shoved something sharp into my chest. I'd seen him brave, angry, frightened… but never like this. Never this hollow. And it was my fault. I should've seen it coming. Should've protected him. Should've been stronger.
My fists curled into the sheets beside him.
"You don't have to do this," I said suddenly, the words tumbling out of me like a dam breaking. "Screw the Trial. Screw the prophecy. We'll run away, Jamie. You and me."
He blinked, slowly turning his head toward me, shock dawning in his expression.
"Run away with me," I said, leaning closer. "Let's leave all of this behind. The council. The tests. The lies. We'll find a quiet place where no one knows our names. We don't need any of this. Just… us."
There was silence. Only the sound of birds beyond the window and the slow, aching beat of my heart waited for his answer.
Jamie looked at me like I'd just offered him the moon. And then, gently, he shook his head.
"We can't," he whispered.
"Why not?" I asked, almost pleading.
"Because if we do… We'll be rogues," he said softly. "You, an Alpha, abandoning your pack? They'd never forgive you. And the bond—our bond—it wouldn't survive it. Not truly. We'd just be a shadow of what we were meant to be."
He reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Besides… it would break your father's heart. You know that. He needs you now more than ever."
I didn't respond. I couldn't. Because he was right. Every word of it. And gods, I hated that he was right.
Jamie sat up slowly, wincing, his hand still holding mine. "Let me do this," he said, and his voice was steadier now. "I believe our bond is blessed, not cursed. I believe… I'll come back to you."
His words hit me like a punch to the soul.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his. Our breaths tangled in the space between us.
"You promise?" I asked, my voice raw. "You have to come back to me."
"I will," he said softly. "Because I love you, Andy."
My breath caught.
He'd said it before, yes—but now it felt different. Like a vow. Like a thread binding us tighter.
And for the first time, I let myself say it back. No hiding. No fear.
"I love you, too," I whispered. "More than you'll ever know."
Jamie closed his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. And gods, it nearly undid me.
A moment passed before he shifted again, slower this time, and said, "I need to see my grandma. And… get something from the chest she gave me."
"You sure you're okay to walk?" I asked, concerned.
He nodded, though he still looked pale. "I need to do this. She's probably worried sick. I want to let her know I'll be okay—even if I'm not completely sure I believe that myself."
I helped him stand, one arm around his waist, until he steadied himself. Then, as he turned toward the door, I stopped him.
"Wait," I said, reaching into my jacket pocket. "There's something I want you to have."
He turned back, curious, as I pulled out the necklace I hadn't taken off since I was fifteen.
It was simple—an old silver pendant in the shape of a crescent moon, hanging from a worn leather cord. Time had dulled the shine, but it still pulsed with meaning.
"My mom gave this to me for my fifteenth birthday," I said, carefully looping it around his neck. "She said it was a charm for protection… and for luck. It's gotten me through some nights."
Jamie stared at it, then back at me.
"I want you to have it," I whispered. "Take a piece of me with you. Wherever you go tonight… don't forget who's waiting for you."
He touched the pendant gently, his fingers lingering over it like it was something sacred.
"Thank you," he said. And in that moment, his eyes shimmered—not with fear, but with something stronger. Resolve.
I didn't tell him I was scared. I didn't tell him how my chest felt like it was splitting in half.
Instead, I just kissed his forehead.
And watched him walk away.
*******
Jamie's POV
I stood at the threshold of the Gateway.
They called it that—the ancient stone arch carved into the mountain's heart, veined with silver light and sealed shut with runes older than language itself. The entrance looked like a mouth waiting to swallow me whole. Cold mist curled at my feet, coiling around the hem of my white robe, making it ripple like fog-woven silk.
I didn't move.
I stood there, staring at the enormous sealed doors, heart pounding so loud I was sure the elders behind them could hear it echoing through the mountain.
My fingers drifted, almost unconsciously, to the ring on my hand—the one I'd pulled from the chest my grandmother had kept hidden away all these years. My mother's ring. Simple, silver, etched with the symbol of the moon cradled in flame. It hummed faintly against my skin, like it remembered her touch. Like it remembered who I was.
I reached for the necklace too—the crescent-shaped pendant Andrew had given me that morning. It sat cool against my collarbone, its weight a comfort. His mother's charm. His gift. His love.
I closed my eyes for a second, and the memory came back—my grandmother's voice soft and trembling as she kissed my forehead.
"You are Grigor and Sarah Finn's son. My grandson. I know you'd come back to us. Just remember who you are."
She'd smiled through misty eyes, hiding her fear as best she could.
"See you soon," she had whispered.
Now here I was.
Standing on the brink of a door that would either open to my future… or slam shut behind me forever.
The air shifted.
A deep, ancient horn sounded from inside the mountain, its note low and primal, vibrating through the stone beneath my feet. The seals across the Gateway began to glow, and the doors creaked open, inch by heavy inch, revealing a darkness beyond.
My heart stuttered.
I took one more breath.
"I know you're in there," I whispered to the part of me that felt like a ghost- My wolf. "I know you're fighting—just like I am. Please… don't give up on us."
And by "us," I didn't just mean me and the wolf.
I meant Andrew and me.
Then I stepped into the darkness.
The passage inside was narrow, damp, and pulsing with a kind of magic that felt old and alive. Glowing moss crawled across the walls in patterns that shifted when I wasn't looking. The further I walked, the thicker the air became—like walking through memory, through time. Shadows danced along the ceiling, and I could feel the thrum of energy pulling me deeper.
Finally, the tunnel widened into a vast cavern.
The ceiling arched high above, lit only by a single opening where the moon cast a sharp column of silver light down onto the stone floor. The space was circular, and ancient symbols were carved into every inch of its surface. Torches burned blue flames in jagged holders along the walls. The air felt heavy here, like it held every Trial that had ever taken place.
The Elders were already gathered in a ring around the centre, dressed in ceremonial black, their expressions solemn. Cassian stood beside Elder Throne, expression unreadable. Ann caught my eye and gave me the tiniest, reassuring smile. Caroline stood next to her, face like marble, cold and hard to read.
And Andrew… he stood at the Alpha corner with his father. His eyes were locked on me, and when I looked at him, the world steadied just a little. Even here. Even now.
Then I saw her.
The witch from the council meeting. The one Oona had brought. Half-wolf, half-human. Her silver eyes shimmered unnaturally, as if she were peering through me, not at me.
Oona stood near her, smiling faintly.
The witch raised a hand, beckoning.
I stepped into the moonlight, to the centre of the circle where the light hit the stone and made it shimmer like glass. It was quiet. Reverent. The only sound was the slow echo of my breathing.
She gestured for me to extend my hand.
I hesitated for a heartbeat. Then did as she asked.
She brought out a knife.
My breath caught.
It was curved, ritualistic, etched with ancient words. I didn't flinch, though my fingers twitched when the blade nicked across my palm. The sting was sharp. Clean. Blood welled instantly and dripped into the obsidian bowl she held beneath it.
She then looked toward Andrew.
My gaze followed hers as he stepped forward. His jaw clenched slightly as he rolled up his sleeve and offered his hand. She cut him too gently, but deliberately. His blood mixed with mine in the bowl.
For a brief second, our eyes met. Just long enough.
Then he stepped back to his father's side.
The witch raised the bowl above her head.
"Blood given. Bond tested. Moon witness." Her voice echoed across the cave like smoke, old and strange.
Then, without warning, she splashed the blood onto my robe.
It soaked the white fabric in streaks of crimson. I blinked, startled.
Was that necessary?
The absurdity of the thought nearly made me laugh. Almost.
She turned to Alpha Jackson and gave a single nod.
And then he spoke, voice amplified by power and tradition:
"Let the Trial begin."
All around me, the Elders began to shift—one by one, bone and muscle cracking, reforming into fur, claw, and fang. Cassian. Ann. Caroline. And then, last, Andrew.
His shift was powerful. Effortless.
His wolf—a majestic blend of black and silver—towered over the others, dominant and glowing under the moonlight. He looked at me once more. Not with fear. Not with sorrow.
With faith.
Only Oona, Alpha Jackson, and the witch remained in human form.
And then they howled.
It wasn't just noise. It was a call. A summoning. Deep and resonant, it filled the cave like thunder. It rose toward the moonlight and pierced into my chest.
And in that moment, something inside me cracked open.
I felt it.
A warmth.
A flicker.
A pulse of something sacred and untamed.
Then—light. Blinding light.
The moonbeam intensified, pouring down over me like a waterfall of silver fire. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. Even the howling became distant, like I was falling underwater.
And then I felt it—my soul slipping, stretching, being pulled into something deeper, something far beyond this world.
And just like that… everything went black.
I fell.
Or floated.
Or maybe both.
I didn't know.
But my body lay motionless in the centre of the cave.
The howling stopped.
A hush fell.
The witch lowered her hands and turned slowly to face Andrew's wolf.
Her voice rang clear, quiet, but final.
"The Trial has begun. May the moon carry his spirit true… and the bond guide him home."