The morning light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows over the forest clearing. The once chaotic battlefield was now eerily quiet. Wolves moved silently among the wounded, tending to the injured and burying the dead. The pack had taken heavy losses, but they had survived the night.
Jerome stood at the edge of the clearing, her arms wrapped around herself as she watched the pack work. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the previous night. The blood, the violence, Ian's brutal fight with Kieran—it was all a blur. But the emotions were still raw, lingering like an open wound.
She glanced over at Ian, who was speaking quietly with Kael and the other pack members. His face was a mask of calm, but Jerome knew him well enough by now to sense the tension in his body. He was worried, though he would never admit it.
The wolves around him respected Ian, feared him even, but they also relied on his strength. He had fought for them, led them, and now they looked to him to guide them through the aftermath. Jerome could see the weight of responsibility bearing down on his shoulders, even as he hid it behind his stoic expression.
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to the forest. She could still feel the heaviness in the air, the residual energy of the battle clinging to the trees. It was a reminder of just how dangerous this world was. A world she was now a part of, whether she liked it or not.
Footsteps approached from behind, and Jerome turned to see Kael walking toward her. His expression was serious but not unkind. "Jerome," he greeted, his voice low.
She gave him a small nod in response, unsure of what to say. Kael had always been somewhat of a mystery to her. He was fiercely loyal to Ian, protective of the pack, but there was always an underlying tension when he was around her—like he wasn't sure she truly belonged.
"You did well last night," Kael said after a moment, his tone softening slightly. "It's not easy, being in the middle of a battle like that."
Jerome shifted uncomfortably, still unsure of how to respond. She hadn't done much, not really. It had been Ian and the pack who fought, who defended their home. All she had done was stand by and watch, helpless and afraid.
"I didn't do anything," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kael shook his head, stepping closer. "You stood your ground," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "That counts for something."
Jerome didn't know how to respond, so she simply nodded. She appreciated Kael's attempt to comfort her, but it didn't change the gnawing sense of helplessness she felt. She wasn't like them—she wasn't a wolf, wasn't a fighter. She wasn't sure she ever would be.
As if sensing her unease, Kael gave her a reassuring smile. "Ian's lucky to have you," he said quietly. "Even if he doesn't always show it."
Jerome blinked in surprise at his words, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn't expected that, least of all from Kael. He had always seemed distant, more focused on the pack than on her. But there was something in his voice that made her believe he meant it.
Before she could respond, Ian approached, his presence commanding as always. His eyes were darker than usual, filled with an intensity that made Jerome's stomach flutter.
"Kael," Ian said, his voice curt but not unkind. "I need to speak with Jerome."
Kael nodded, giving Jerome a quick glance before he turned and left them alone. The moment he was gone, Ian's gaze softened as he looked down at Jerome. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle despite the roughness of his fingers.
"Are you okay?" Ian asked, his voice low and filled with concern.
Jerome swallowed, her throat tight as she nodded. "I'm fine," she whispered, though the truth was far more complicated. She wasn't sure what she was anymore—not after everything that had happened.
Ian's hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb gently tracing the curve of her jaw. "You don't have to be fine," he murmured. "Not after what you went through."
Jerome's chest tightened at his words, and she felt the urge to cry, though she didn't know why. She had survived, after all. The battle was over, and she was still standing. But the weight of it all—the violence, the danger, the constant fear—it was suffocating.
"I don't know how to do this," she admitted, her voice cracking. "I don't know how to live in this world, Ian."
Ian's eyes darkened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. He understood her fears better than anyone. He had tried to keep her safe, tried to shield her from the darkest parts of his life, but there was no escaping it. Not anymore.
"You don't have to do it alone," Ian said softly. "I'm here. I'll always be here."
Jerome looked up at him, her heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. Despite the possessiveness, the danger, and the darkness that surrounded him, Ian was her anchor. He was the one constant in a world that had turned upside down.
But she knew that being with him meant accepting the risk, the violence, and the danger. She had seen it firsthand. And yet, despite everything, she couldn't walk away. She couldn't leave him.
"I know," she whispered, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "And I'm not leaving you."
Ian's eyes blazed with a fierce protectiveness, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. For a moment, the world fell away, and it was just the two of them, wrapped in each other's warmth.
But even in his embrace, Jerome couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The danger wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
To be continued...