Tyric was still weak. She hadn't woken up yet.
A full day passed before Tesmee finally drew in a sharp, heavy breath.
"Fuck!" she gasped.
"You're fine. Not dead, at least," her mother said, pulling the curtains open in her bedroom.
"That was a fucked-up experience," Tesmee muttered as she sat up, still disoriented.
"Well, it is ranked the most painful binding between wolves," her mother said casually.
Tesmee narrowed her eyes. "What the fuck do you mean, binding?"
Her mother turned to her, face calm. "You and the Alpha share a life now. He dies, you die. You won't feel each other's pain, but you can share energy—heal wounds even the moon wouldn't dare touch. You'll learn more... as time goes."
"That's even more fucked up. I was already planning on killing him," Tesmee muttered, half serious, half sarcastic as she pushed herself out of bed.
Her mother chuckled lightly. "Well, I'm sure it won't be the worst thing."
"Let's fucking hope not," she mumbled, rubbing her neck as she headed to the shower.
Across the mountains, Tyson—Alpha of the Cliffbane pack—sat with his elders. Their kind was brutal, wolves built for the wildest terrains, known to feast on other breeds when needed.
"Craig claimed Elizabeth as his true mate," Tyson said, tone dry. "And he wants in on the war. He's our ally, so makes sense."
"Wait," one of the elders frowned, confused. "Isn't Elizabeth Tyric's mate? How the hell does that work?"
Tyson scoffed. "Could be some glitch in the universe. Who gives a shit? That's their drama. All we need is firepower to deal with those frontiers—especially the ones trained by that bitch."
Jason, Tyson's brother, leaned forward. "How does she even make them resistant to wolfsbane and silver?"
Tyson gave a bitter laugh. "Training. Frontiers from Vermilion Hollow disappear for a while—come back damn near unkillable. I don't know what the hell they go through, but it works."
"Well, we need a better planning strategy," said one of the elders, his voice low but steady.
"No, we fucking don't," Tyson snapped. "What we need is our natural rage to finish this."
He leaned forward, eyes sharp.
"The main aim is simple—kill her, then kill Tyric. After that, I'm sure the rest of the pack will fucking bend. Unless, of course, everyone suddenly thinks they can stand on their own."
"Why don't we put this aside for a moment, Alpha, and talk about your need to find a Luna..." his father said carefully.
Tyson scoffed. "She'll slow me down. I'll deal with that shit when I get there. I don't have time to go looking for some weakling."
Everyone sighed, clearly done trying to convince the Alpha to find a mate. After all these years, the answer had never changed—he was always too busy, or so he claimed.