I felt him before I saw him.
The air changed—thickened, like the city itself had drawn a sharp breath and frozen in place. The night sounds dulled. Even the distant hum of traffic seemed to retreat, as if bowing.
My heart skipped.
"Dad…" I whispered.
A familiar, overwhelming presence pressed against my senses, strong and unyielding, wrapping around me the way his arms used to when I was a child. When I lifted my head, he was already there—standing at the edge of the broken dock, tall and terrifying, his eyes glowing with a fierce golden light that made the remaining wolves in the distance flee without hesitation.
King Zeus.
My father.
The Alpha King of all packs.
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
"Scarlett." His voice cut through the night, deep and sharp, carrying authority that demanded obedience from the world itself.
Before I could say his name again, he was in front of me, hands gripping my shoulders, eyes scanning my face, my arms, my neck—every inch of me—like he was searching for wounds he might have missed.
"Did they touch you?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
"Did they hurt you?"
"I—I'm okay," I said quickly, though my voice trembled. "I promise."
His jaw tightened. The glow in his eyes flared brighter as he straightened and finally looked past me.
At Xavier.
At Jason.
At Felix.
The shift was instant.
The warmth vanished, replaced by cold, lethal focus.
Three powerful wolves—two tense, one outright braced—stood before him, knowing exactly who they were facing.
My father took one step forward.
"Who are you," he demanded, "and why were you anywhere near my daughter when enemies dared to lay hands on her?"
The pressure of his aura crashed outward like a tidal wave.
Jason stiffened. Felix's shoulders squared. Xavier didn't move—but I felt him tense beside me, instinctively placing himself between my father and me without even realizing it.
Before things could explode, Misty stepped forward.
"King Zeus," she said clearly, respectfully. "They helped save her."
My father's gaze flicked to her, sharp and assessing.
"They fought," she continued, voice steady. "They tracked her. They risked their lives. Scarlett would not be standing here without them."
Silence stretched.
Then my father exhaled slowly.
The air eased. Just slightly.
"I see," he said at last.
He turned back to the boys, studying them more carefully now—not as threats, but as warriors.
"You have my thanks," he said, his tone still stern but sincere. "For protecting what is mine."
Jason bowed his head immediately. Felix followed.
Xavier hesitated.
Then he inclined his head—not in submission, but respect.
"I would do it again," Xavier said simply. "No matter the cost."
Something unreadable passed through my father's eyes.
After a moment, he nodded once. "That much is clear."
He turned to Misty. "You as well."
Misty gave a small nod. "Always."
My father finally looked back at me, and the fierceness melted into something painfully familiar.
Concern.
"Scarlett," he said gently, "I need to speak with you. Alone."
My stomach twisted.
Xavier glanced at me, concern etched into his face. "We'll wait outside," he said immediately, then paused. "Actually—no. We'll stay close. Just in case."
Jason nodded. "There could still be scouts."
Felix scanned the shadows. "Or worse."
My father studied Xavier for a long second… then nodded.
"Wise," he said. "Stay alert."
Misty squeezed my hand before following the boys away. "I'm right outside," she whispered. "You're not alone."
I watched them go, my heart pounding, until only my father and I remained beneath the fractured moonlight.
The quiet that followed felt heavier than the battle.
"Are you truly alright?" he asked softly.
I swallowed. "I don't know," I admitted. "I survived… but everything they said—everything that happened—it doesn't feel like it's over."
His gaze softened. "It isn't."
I stiffened. "Father… what do you mean?"
He stepped closer, resting a hand on my shoulder, grounding me.
"It's time," he said.
"For what?"
"For you to know the truth."
My breath caught.
"I already know some of it," I said shakily. "They told me things—about my mother. About what I am."
His expression tightened. "And what did they say?"
"That she wanted me dead," I whispered. "That she feared me."
His eyes darkened with quiet fury.
"They lied," he said firmly. "And twisted the truth to serve their fear."
I let out a shaky breath. "Then tell me. Please. I need to understand."
He nodded slowly.
"What they told you," he began, "was not entirely false—but it was incomplete."
My heart pounded.
"You are dangerous," he said plainly. "Not because you are evil, but because your power does not belong to a single form or lineage. You were never meant to carry a wolf."
I flinched.
He continued gently, "Your mother knew this from the moment she conceived you."
My throat tightened. "Then why… why didn't she stop it?"
"Because she chose you," he said without hesitation. "Over herself. Over fear. Over prophecy."
Tears blurred my vision.
"She never wanted to kill you," he said. "She gave up her life to anchor yours."
I shook my head. "Anchor?"
"She bound her remaining life force to yours," he said quietly. "So your power would sleep. So it wouldn't consume you before you were ready."
My chest ached.
"She knew she wouldn't survive the birth," he continued. "And she accepted it. Happily. Because it meant you would live."
I covered my mouth, sobbing silently.
"She came to me after," he said, voice roughening. "In my dreams. Night after night."
I looked up. "That's what you never told me."
He nodded. "Because she asked me not to."
My heart stuttered. "What did she say?"
His gaze drifted somewhere distant, as if replaying a memory carved into his soul.
"She told me not to let go of you," he said softly.
"Not even when you scared me. Not even when the world tried to turn against you."
My breath trembled.
"She told me you would feel ordinary for a long time," he continued. "Weak. Out of place. And that it would hurt you."
Tears spilled freely now.
"She said your power would not answer force," he said. "Only connection."
I thought of Misty. Of Xavier.
My pulse raced.
"She told me," he said, meeting my eyes, "that your powers would not truly surface until you met your fated mate."
My breath stopped completely.
"What?" I whispered.
"He is the key," my father said calmly. "The balance. The only one capable of grounding you when the darkness calls."
My mind reeled.
"The enemies were right about one thing," he said. "When you meet him… everything begins."
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
"And when you do," he continued, "your power will awaken. Slowly at first. Then all at once."
I thought of the river.
Of the light.
Of losing myself.
"There is something that must be done," he added quietly. "A trial. A choice. A sacrifice."
Fear crawled up my spine. "What kind?"
He shook his head gently. "That, my child… you will only know when the time comes."
I swallowed hard. "And if I fail?"
His eyes softened. "Then the world will tremble."
Silence stretched between us, heavy with everything unsaid.
I whispered, "Father… what if I already met him?"
His gaze sharpened—not surprised, but knowing.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Then," he said, "the prophecy has already begun."
Outside, I felt it—Xavier's presence. Steady. Unyielding.
And for the first time since the night began, my fear was joined by something else.
Hope.
Because whatever I was becoming—
I would not face it alone.