Chapter 40
[ 747 words ]
The Nightbane pack
40: 40.
The Nightbane pack Aria
Dex doesn’t knock.
He just opens the door and ushers me inside like the world behind us is something that might snap its teeth shut if he hesitates.
The door clicks closed with a finality that settles into my bones, heavy and suffocating.
I hate it instantly.
My wolf paces.
We shouldn’t be here, she growls, her voice low and restless in the back of my mind.
We should be out there.
I know, I reply, shrugging off my jacket as I glance around the house.
It’s…normal.
That’s the first thing that strikes me.
Painfully, frustratingly normal.
A worn couch sits against the far wall, a coffee table cluttered with papers and a half-empty mug, the faint scent of coffee and pine lingering in the air.
There are boots by the door, a jacket thrown over a chair, a life paused mid-motion.
Ronan’s life.
My mate’s life.
And I’m here.
Not out there.
Not helping them.
Not saving Liam.
My chest tightens.
Dex locks the door behind us and leans against it for a second, like he’s listening for something on the other side.
Then he exhales and straightens, running a hand through his hair.
“You’re safe here,” he says.
The words land wrong.
Safe.
I turn to face him, crossing my arms.
“That’s not really what I want right now.”
His gaze sharpens slightly, but he doesn’t argue.
“I know.”
Then why are we here?
My wolf snaps.
Why are we hiding while he—
I clamp down on the thought before it can spiral.
Because I know why.
Because I’m new.
Because I don’t know enough.
Because I’d be more of a liability than help.
Because I’m still just…me.
Helpless.
The word stings more than I want it to.
I move past Dex into the living room, my steps restless, my skin too tight over my bones.
I want to run.
I want to shift.
I want to do something other than stand here feeling useless.
But there’s nothing to do.
Nothing except wait.
And I’ve never been good at waiting.
Dex follows me in, quieter now, watching me like he’s trying to gauge how close I am to breaking.
He gestures toward the couch.
“Sit.
You look like you’re about to wear a hole in the floor.”
“I might,” I mutter, but I sit anyway, more because my legs feel like they might give out than because I want to.
The cushion dips under my weight, grounding me in a way I don’t like.
My wolf huffs.
This is wrong.
Not helping.
Dex pretends not to notice me speaking to my wolf.
I know it isn’t seamless yet.
Not like the others, whom I would never be able to tell due to the way they can subconsciously multitask.
For a moment, neither of us speaks.
The silence stretches, thick with everything I’m trying not to think about—Liam, the other pack, the danger closing in around us.
I can’t sit in it.
I need something to focus on.
Something I can control.
So I latch onto the only thing that makes sense.
Understanding.
I look up at Dex.
“Tell me about them.”
His brow furrows slightly.
“Them?”
“The Nightbane pack.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees.
“I don’t get it. The tension, the hatred—it feels…deeper than just territory or dominance.”
My wolf stills, listening.
Dex studies me for a second, like he’s deciding how much to say.
Then he sighs and drops into the armchair across from me, resting his forearms on his thighs.
“It is deeper,” he says.
“A lot deeper.”
“Then start at the beginning.”
A flicker of something—approval, maybe—crosses his face.
“We weren’t always two packs,” he begins.
“A long time ago, we were one. Same territory. Same leadership. Same beliefs…at least, at first.”
I lean in slightly, drawn in despite myself.
“What changed?”
Dex’s jaw tightens.
“Humans.”
My wolf perks up, ears metaphorically forward.
Of course, it was them.
“Not just humans,” Dex clarifies.
“Our relationship with them. Some of us believed in staying hidden, keeping our distance, protecting the balance. Others…” He exhales sharply.
“Others believed we were better. Stronger. That we should stop pretending otherwise.”
I frown.
“Superiority.”
“Yeah.” His lips press into a thin line.
“It started as arguments.
Then fights.
Then lines got drawn.”
“And Ronan?”
“He wasn’t Alpha yet,” Dex says.
“But he was on the side of coexistence.
Control.
Not letting what we are turn into something ugly.”
“And Everett?” I ask, the name feeling heavy on my tongue.
Dex’s expression darkens.
“Everett believed the opposite. He thought we should take what we want. That hiding was a weakness.”
A chill runs down my spine.
“That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”
“It was.”
My wolf growls softly.
I don’t like him.
“Neither do I,” I murmur.
Dex continues, his voice steady but edged.
“The tension built for years.
Then one night…Everrt made his move.”
“A coup,” I say quietly.
Dex nods.
“He tried to overthrow Ronan.
Thought enough of the pack would side with him.”
“Did they?”
“Some did,” he admits.
“Enough to make it ugly. There was fighting. Bloodshed. Brothers turning on brothers.”
My stomach twists.
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