The night air was cold enough to bite through his cloak. Garrick walked the narrow path toward his home, the moon veiled behind thick clouds. His thoughts were a storm — Amara's words still echoing in his mind, Elara's frightened eyes, and the key he'd allowed her to keep. Every step he took felt heavier with the weight of the choice he'd made.
He had just reached the courtyard when a voice called out.
"Father!"
Garrick turned sharply. Kieran was standing at the end of the street, half-hidden in the fog. The young wolf's expression was tense, his eyes wide with confusion and something that looked a lot like fear.
Garrick frowned. "You should be resting, Kieran. It's late."
Kieran didn't move closer at first. "Is it true?"
Garrick's brows knit. "What are you talking about?"
"The elders," Kieran said quickly. "They told me… they told me I'm to be married to Elara Hale." His voice trembled on the name, as if even saying it burned. "They said it's already been decided."
For a moment, Garrick could only stare. Then his jaw tightened. "Who told you this?"
Kieran looked away, guilt flickering across his face. "Elder Taren mentioned it. Said it was for the good of the pack—that uniting me with her would keep her… power close to Silvercrest."
Rage flared in Garrick's chest, sharp and hot. The elders were moving faster than he thought. "You shouldn't have spoken with them without my permission."
"I didn't go looking for them!" Kieran snapped, stepping closer now, his tone desperate. "They cornered me outside the training hall. I didn't even understand what they were talking about until—until I realized they were serious."
Garrick's hands clenched at his sides. "And you came to beg me to stop it?"
Kieran's gaze met his father's, glassy and pleading. "Yes. Because it's a mistake, Father. It's all a mistake."
Garrick's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"
Kieran hesitated. The silence stretched between them until Garrick's voice cut through like steel.
"Speak, boy."
Kieran flinched at the command, his breath shuddering. "I—" He swallowed hard, looking around as if the shadows might be listening. "It wasn't fate. Elara and I… we weren't really mates."
Garrick's chest went still. "Explain yourself."
Kieran's words tumbled out in a rush, broken and panicked. "I didn't know what else to do! Everyone around me had already found their mates. The pressure—the expectation—Father, you don't understand. I couldn't be the only ranked wolf without one. I couldn't stand the whispers, the judgment, the looks."
"Kieran," Garrick said slowly, his tone dangerously low, "what did you do?"
"I went to a witch," Kieran whispered, his voice barely audible. "She gave me a potion. She said it would… bind the attention of an unmated wolf to me. That they'd feel the bond. That they'd believe it."
Garrick's world seemed to tilt. "You… used a witch's spell?"
Kieran nodded, shame twisting his features. "It was only supposed to make her notice me! I didn't know she'd—" His voice cracked. "I didn't know she'd believe I was her mate. I didn't mean for it to go that far. I thought the magic would fade before the ceremony."
But Garrick wasn't listening anymore. His pulse thundered in his ears. "You played with the bond," he said slowly, disbelievingly. "You tampered with the Goddess's will."
"I didn't know she was—"
"Silence!" Garrick roared, his voice echoing down the street like thunder.
Kieran flinched, taking a step back. The fury radiating from his father was palpable, raw and suffocating.
"You fool!" Garrick's voice was a snarl now, each word edged with fury and disbelief. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You violated the sacred bond! You manipulated a wolf's soul! You made her believe in a lie that you crafted with poison and deceit!"
Kieran's eyes filled with tears. "I didn't mean—"
"You did," Garrick snapped. "You wanted power. You wanted the prestige of being chosen, and now the Goddess herself has turned her face from you!"
The younger wolf shook his head desperately. "I swear, Father, I didn't know it would curse her! I thought—"
"Curse her?" Garrick stepped closer, his voice low and trembling with wrath. "You think she's cursed because of you! The girl you humiliated in front of the pack, the one you left to bleed from a bond that never existed — you made her the outcast they now want to sacrifice!"
Kieran staggered backward, his face pale. "Please, Father—"
But Garrick wasn't finished. "Do you know what they're doing to her now? They've locked her in the dungeons like a criminal. They're whispering about using her for her power, binding her through marriage — to you, of all people!"
Kieran's eyes widened in horror. "No—no, they can't—"
"They will!" Garrick hissed. "Because of what you did. Because you forced fate to bend around your vanity. You think you're protecting her now? It's too late. You've doomed her."
For a long moment, father and son just stared at each other. Garrick's fury had shifted into something colder — disappointment so deep it hollowed his voice.
"If I had any honor left," he said finally, "I would strip you of your title and cast you out tonight."
Kieran's lips trembled. "Father, please…"
"Do not call me that," Garrick growled, turning away. "You've brought shame on my name, on our pack, and on the Goddess's bond itself." He paused, his shoulders stiff. "And when Roran learns what you've done, not even my position will save you."
Kieran fell to his knees, voice breaking. "I'll fix it. I'll do anything—"
But Garrick didn't look back.
"You can't fix what was never real."
He walked away, his cloak dragging through the dirt, leaving his son kneeling in the cold fog.
Behind him, Kieran's broken sobs echoed faintly — and for the first time in years, Garrick felt no pity. Only the bitter certainty that everything in Silvercrest was beginning to rot from within.