Chapter 295

Nolan rose immediately, instinctive respect written into the movement.

arms.

“I’ll take the boys,” he said quietly, already lifting August and lan into his (( Give you some time.”

I nodded, watching as Nolan pressed a kiss to each of the boys’ foreheads before carrying them out. The door closed softly behind him.

The quiet that followed was different from the morning’s peace.

Heavier.

“Are you ready?” Alaric asked.

I exhaled slowly. “I think so.”

We moved to the inner training chamber-a circular room carved deep into the stone beneath the packhouse, older than Silver Fang itself. The walls were etched with faded runes, worn smooth by centuries of hands that had brushed against them. The air here felt different. Thicker. Charged.

Alaric gestured for me to stand in the center.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

I obeyed, heart beginning to race.

“Breathe,” he said. “Not shallow. Deep. Let the noise settle.”

I focused on my breath, the rhythm of it, the way the hum of magic threaded through the room. Gradually, the tension in my shoulders eased.

“Your connection to the goddess isn’t something external,” Alaric continued. “It doesn’t arrive only in dreams or visions. It’s woven into you. It responds to emotion, to instinct, to intent.”

I frowned slightly. “That sounds… dangerous.”

“It is,” he agreed calmly. “Which is why control matters.”

I felt it then-

-a subtle warmth in my chest, spreading outward like a slow-burning ember. Not pain. Not fear. Power.

“Don’t push it,” Alaric said. “Invite it.”

The warmth grew.

Images flickered behind my closed eyes-not clear visions, but impressions. Wind bending tall grass. Stone cracking under pressure. A storm held just before it broke.

I gasped softly.

“That’s it,” Alaric said. “Hold it there.”

The air around me shifted. I felt it-felt something respond, like the world itself was leaning closer, listening.

My pulse thundered in my ears.

The visions shifted again. Dark skies, strong winds, the feeling of it lashing against my skin. Cold and stinging as I struggled to stand against it. Then soft words, like an echo in my ears.

Shadows. Blood.

And something shifted. A thought occurred. Why would the visions from the goddess have two different names for Felicity? Everything else had been consistent, so why would she be the shadow woman and the outcast followed by blood?

No. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t the wording.

Blood follows the one cast out. The storm draws blood. The cast away with blood at her heels…

A sudden and gut-wrenching thought struck me, and my eyes flew open.

It was me. I was the castaway, the rogue, followed by bloodshed and misfortune.

And then the thought slipped free before I could stop it.

“Does the prophecy mean I’m going to die?”

The warmth faltered.

The air went still.

Alaric didn’t answer right away.

I opened my eyes and turned to him, fear blooming sharp and sudden in my chest.

My father stood very still, his expression unreadable-but his silence said more than

words ever could.

“Father,” I whispered.

He drew a slow breath.

“Prophecies,” Alaric said finally, his voice softer than I had ever heard it, “do not dictate endings.”

My heart hammered. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only honest one,” he replied. “They reveal pressure points. Challenges.

Forks in the road where choices matter more than strength.”

“So it doesn’t say I live,” I pressed.

“And it doesn’t say you die,” he countered gently. “It tells you what you will face. Not how you’ll emerge from it.”

Tears burned behind my eyes.

“What if the cost is too high?” I asked. “What if protecting them means-

“Ellie,” Alaric interrupted, stepping closer. “Look at me.”

I did.

“You are not expendable,” he said firmly. “Not to the goddess. Not to this kingdom. Not to your children or your mate. And not to me.”

My breath shuddered.

“The storm doesn’t exist to destroy,” he continued. “It exists to change what refuses

to bend. And you-” His gaze softened. “You are not meant to be consumed by it. You are meant to stand within it.”

I wiped at my cheeks, nodding slowly.

“Then teach me,” I said. “All of it. I won’t look away.”

Alaric inclined his head, pride flickering briefly in his eyes.

“Good,” he said. “Because the storm has already begun to move.”

Somewhere above us, I knew, Nolan was holding our sons close.

And for the first time, I believed-truly believed-that I might be strong enough to protect what mattered most.

Not by outrunning the storm.

But by becoming something it could not break.