Cass’s POV

"What have you done?" I gasped, staring at Colt’s limp form.

"He’s merely sleeping," Honora replied, her voice saccharine. "You have a penchant for trouble, darling, and you’re pregnant. You’re not fit to lead, and your brute of a mate clearly can't keep you safe. So, it falls to me."

"You’re insane," I spat.

"I’m merely collecting my due," she countered. "Your mother promised me anything if I saved you from death’s door. But when she saw the cost, she fled, burned my mark from your skin, and hid you away like a common coward. She conned me, Cass. Now, the debt falls to you."

She reached into her pocket, but I slapped her hand away, sending the sleeping powder swirling into the wind. Before she could recover, I lunged, my fist connecting with her face. She crumpled, looking up at me with genuine shock.

"Did you really think I’d just roll over?" I loomed over her, grabbing her by the hair. "Your greed ends tonight."

"You don't understand," she wheezed, smirking through bloodied teeth. She swallowed a vial from her satchel. "Whatever pain you inflict upon me, you inflict upon yourself. Kill me, and you kill your unborn child."

I hesitated, the reflection of my own agony flickering in her eyes. But then, a cold, sharp realization pierced my mind.

"You forget one thing, Honora," I whispered, leaning close. "My powers don't work on me."

Her eyes widened as she realized the loophole. Before she could scream, I focused my will—not on her physical form, but on the life force she had stolen and perverted.

Die.

She clutched at her heart, a look of profound, primal terror crossing her face as she slumped to the ground, lifeless.

After the dust settled, I turned back to Colt. He was stirring, his breathing heavy but steady.

"Is it over?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"It is."

We didn't kill Oliver; the weight of his crimes was far greater than a simple execution could satisfy. He would be sent back to the Gunvald lands to face the wrath of his own kin. As for Ezra, his legacy was dead, and his pack would be left to Kaecy to decide their fate.

Colt gripped my hand, his gaze filled with a terrifying, beautiful intensity. "The thought of losing you… it nearly broke me, Cass."

"You saved me," I said, leaning into his touch. "You’re the strongest person I know."

Before I retired, I had one final stop: my father’s room.

Warrick looked frail, his body riddled with wounds, but his eyes softened when I entered. "How did it go?"

"The packs are safe. The threat is gone," I said, sitting on the edge of his bed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. "And when you’re recovered, you and I are going to play a game called Uno."

He eyed the cards with suspicion. "What in tarnation is this?"

"Read the instructions, old man," I teased, feeling the decades of bitterness between us finally beginning to dissolve.

"Cass," he interrupted, his voice suddenly grave. "I’m renouncing my position. The pack is yours—officially. I’m tired, and I just want to live in peace."

I looked at him, seeing not the tyrant who had terrorized my childhood, but a broken man finally laying down his sword.

"I'll announce it tomorrow," he added, his eyes drifting shut.

I stood up, leaving him to his rest. As I walked back to my chambers with Colt, I realized the world felt different. The shadows of the past were finally retreating, and for the first time in my life, the future was entirely mine to define.