I let him in, knowing this conversation was overdue. Whatever came next, we needed to face it with clear eyes and unified purpose.
"Raymond's planning something," Marcus said without preamble. "My shadows picked up whispers. He's reaching out to other traditional packs, calling our merger an 'infection' that needs to be cut out before it spreads."
"How many support him?"
"Enough." He ran a hand through his hair, and I noticed the gesture was different now—shadows threading through his fingers like nervous habits. "Maybe fifteen percent of our pack. But if he brings outside pressure..."
"We just fought a war for acceptance. I won't let him start another."
"Neither will I." His eyes met mine, storm-gray mixed with shadow-depth. "Which is why I need to know where we stand. You and I. The pack needs unified leadership, not this... careful dance we've been doing."
"What do you want me to say, Marcus? That three weeks of good behavior erases three years of exile?"
"No." He moved closer, and I hated how my traitorous body still responded to his proximity. "I want you to tell me if there's any chance. Any possibility that we could build something new. Not reclaim what was—I killed that. But forge something different."
"For the pack?"
"For us." His voice dropped, shadows reflecting his vulnerability. "My shadow-self doesn't just remember loving you, Aria. It actively loves you. Present tense. Every part of me I'd suppressed to be the 'perfect Alpha' screams for you. And the worst part?" He laughed bitterly. "Now I understand exactly what I threw away. The merger doesn't let me hide from it."
I turned away, staring out the window where wolves patrolled in mixed pairs—traditional and shadow-touched learning to work together. "And you think that's enough? That feeling the full weight of your mistake somehow fixes it?"
"No. But maybe it's a starting point?"
"Marcus..." I faced him, letting my gift show him exactly what those three years had cost. The nights crying alone. The terror of giving birth in exile. The bone-deep certainty that I was worthless, defective, unlovable. "You didn't just reject me. You broke something fundamental. My ability to trust. To believe that anyone could love me without conditions."
He staggered under the weight of it, shadows writhing in response to the pain. "I know. God, Aria, I know. And if I could take it back—"
"But you can't." I pulled my emotions back, shielding again. "So where does that leave us?"
Before he could answer, urgent howling split the night. Border alarm. Multiple breaches.
We ran together, instinct overriding awkwardness. At the border, chaos—but not an attack. Wolves fleeing to us. Families, carrying pups, reeking of fear and smoke.
"Sanctuary!" A female wolf gasped out. "Please, we seek sanctuary!"
"From what?" Marcus demanded.
"The Purge," she sobbed. "Three packs united under Alpha Declan. They're hunting shadow-touched wolves. Killing them. Calling it a cleansing."
My blood turned to ice. We'd shown the world change was possible, and now the traditionalists were responding with genocide.
"How many packs are involved?" I asked.
"More every day. They say the Silver Moon disease must be stopped before it spreads." She clutched her pup closer—a child whose eyes held telltale shadow-depth. "They're killing children. Any wolf who shows signs of shadow-touch. Even those just... different."
Luna appeared, having sensed the distress. She looked at the frightened pup and held out her hand. "You're safe now. We protect all wolves here."
The pup reached back tentatively, and when their hands touched, shadows danced between them—not threatening, just acknowledging kinship.
"Gather the council," Marcus commanded. "Emergency session. Now."
But Raymond was already there, smirking. "More refugees? How many can we take before we collapse? How many broken wolves before—"
Marcus moved so fast even I barely tracked it. Raymond hit the ground, the Alpha's hand around his throat.
"Every. Single. One." Marcus's voice carried lethal promise. "We take every wolf seeking sanctuary. We protect every shadow-touched life. And anyone who disagrees..." His shadows writhed, dangerous and dark. "Anyone who even thinks about turning away refugees will answer to me. Clear?"
Raymond nodded frantically. But I saw the calculation in his eyes. This wasn't over.
As we organized the refugees, Marcus caught my arm. "This changes things. If Declan's building an army..."
"Then we need to be unified. Truly unified." I looked at him, decision crystallizing. "Alright. We try. Not as mates—that's gone. But as partners. For the pack. For every wolf counting on us."
"Partners," he agreed, and I felt his hope spike before he controlled it. "We'll figure out the rest as we go."
The revolution had won, but the war for acceptance was just beginning. And this time, the stakes were every shadow-touched life in existence.
Including our daughter's.