Chapter 306

Nolan POV

I ordered the lockdown before I reached the packhouse.

No deliberation. No council vote. No waiting for confirmation that would only arrive too late.

“Seal the outer gates. Activate full internal wards. No one enters or leaves without my approval,” I said into the comm, my voice ironed flat by necessity. “I want rotating guards on every level, double presence near the nursery. Quietly.

“Yes, Alpha.”

By the time I stepped through the main doors, the shift was already happening- subtle, disciplined, practiced. Doors closed with soft finality. Wards deepened, the air humming just beneath perception. Warriors moved into position without panic, without spectacle.

A fortress pretending to be a home.

I found Ellie exactly where I’d left her.

The nursery was dim, lit only by a single lamp beside the rocking chair. Ellie sat curled around herself, August asleep against her chest, lan nestled safely in the crib beside her. She hadn’t moved. Hadn’t even changed positions.

She looked up the moment I entered, eyes searching my face with a fear that cut deeper than any blade.

“You went to the prison,” she said quietly. Not a question.

Icrossed the room in three strides and knelt in front of her, keeping my movements slow, careful. I reached for

her free hand, pressing my forehead briefly against her knee the way I sometimes did when words felt inadequate.

When I just needed to feel that she was there with me and that she was safe. “Yes,” I said. “I needed to.”

Her fingers tightened around mine. “He talked, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

She didn’t press, but I could feel her anxiety hanging heavy in the air. She wanted to know. She needed to, and I wouldn’t try to keep it from her. But I knew what this was going to do to her, what hearing the confirmation would cause.

I took a breath. There was no gentle way to do this. She deserved truth, not protection masked like silence.

“He confirmed what you saw,” I continued. “Not Not in specifics. But enough.”

Ellie’s face drained of color. Her breath stilled for just a moment as she waited for me to keep going. I looked up into her eyes and kept my voice as calm as I could, despite the sick feeling that welled up in me when I thought back on the rogue’s demise.

“He said the storm has chosen,” I said quietly. “That it comes with a price. And then he died.”

Her breath hitched. The goddess’s energy flared around her instinctively, a faint pressure in the air that made the lamp flicker.

Chopte 304

+25 Bonus

This had been happening ever since she started training with Alaric. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to it. The sudden shift in pressure, the feeling of a wind that had no

source.

“Died?” she whispered. “How?”

“Fear,” I said. “Nothing else.”

That did it.

Ellie’s arms tightened around August as if she could fold him into herself entirely. Her shoulders trembled, though she made no sound at first. Just stared at the floor between us, eyes unfocused.

“It’s me,” she said finally, voice barely there. “That’s what it means. The outcast. The blood of Moonstone.” A hollow laugh slipped out. “It’s not the boys. It’s not Alaric or Cassian. It’s me.”

“No,” I said immediately.

I knew she was right. The same realization had been at the edge of my thoughts all day, though I’d been fighting to deny it.

She shook her head, tears spilling now. “You don’t understand. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. The visions. The dreams. The boys running to you. Leaving me behind.” She swallowed hard. “I thought maybe it was just fear. But now-now it makes sense.”

I rose and pulled her carefully into my arms, August sandwiched safely between us. I held her tightly, grounding us both in the reality of warm bodies and steady breath.

“I will not let her take you,” I said fiercely into her hair. “I don’t care what prophecy says. I don’t care what the goddess herself thinks she’s owed. You are not a price to be paid.”

Ellie’s voice broke. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can,” I said. “And I am.”

She pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes shining with terror and love in equal measure. “If it’s me or them

“Don’t,” I cut in sharply. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

I couldn’t bear to think about it. If that choice was ever required I’d die before I’d be able to make it. Just thinking of it made my heart twist so painfully that I felt sick.