Chapter 5 CHAPTER FIVE

Matt’s POV

The corridor outside Hellen’s chamber swallowed me whole the moment I stepped out. The door clicked shut behind me, but the sound wasn’t enough to cage the thoughts clawing through my skull. Her shallow, uneven breaths, still fragile, echoed inside me like a drumbeat I couldn’t silence. Each one felt like it might be her last.

I dragged a hand over my face, fingertips digging into my temples until sparks of pain shot through my skull. I welcomed it. At least pain was real. At least pain reminded me I wasn’t dreaming while the world around me collapsed.

“Alpha,” one of the guards murmured, bowing as I passed. Another followed, their gaze dropping instantly to the floor. Respectful, dutiful. But too careful.

And then the whispers.

“She’s fading… the Luna isn’t strong enough.”

“It’s a curse. First the war, now this.”

“Maybe the Moon Goddess made a mistake—”

The words hissed through the air like venom, meant to be hidden but never truly concealed. My wolf bristled inside me, teeth bared, ready to rip through the silence and teach them what it meant to disrespect their Luna. But I forced myself to keep walking, shoulders squared, jaw locked. If I broke here, if I lashed out now, it would only prove them right that weakness had seeped from her into me.

The doors of the main hall groaned open under my grip, and the night struck me with its cold clarity. A bruised purple sky stretched overhead, the half-moon veiled by drifting clouds. I inhaled deeply, but even the crisp bite of the air couldn’t strip away the suffocation pressing against my ribs.

My feet knew where to go before my mind decided. Past the training yard, past the watchtowers, past the border markers etched into the trees. Toward the faint golden glow at the edge of the pack land. The old bar.

It was a relic of my father’s time, rough-hewn beams, a sagging roof, a creaking sign that had outlasted generations of wolves. Its wooden door moaned when I shoved it open.

Inside, the world was thick with smoke and laughter. Tankards slammed against tables. Dice clattered across wood. Voices rose in drunken cheer, a harsh contrast to the storm gnawing in my gut.

“Alpha.” The bartender, a scarred wolf with more gray than black in his beard, inclined his head immediately. His hands didn’t falter on the mug he was polishing. “The usual?”

I gave a sharp nod and claimed the stool closest to the counter. A glass of amber liquid slid toward me, catching the lamplight in molten swirls. I didn’t hesitate, I swallowed it whole. The burn scorched my throat, coiled in my chest, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough.

Behind me, conversations ebbed and flowed. Wolves forgot how sharp their tongues grew when they thought the Alpha wasn’t listening.

“She won’t last the season. You can see it in her eyes.”

“If he’d chosen differently, the pack wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Laura would’ve made a stronger Luna. Everyone knows it.”

The glass in my hand shattered with a sharp crack. I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been gripping it until shards bit into my skin. Blood welled instantly, dripping in rivulets across the counter and mingling with spilled liquor. The bartender stiffened but wisely said nothing.

I stared at the mess, at the vivid red pooling beneath my palm. Blood. Always blood. Always a reminder.

And then the past surged forward, drowning me before I could stop it.

The battlefield rose in my mind’s eye, moonlight casting a sickly glow over the torn earth, bodies strewn like discarded dolls. My warriors had fought bravely, but bravery didn’t stop death. I remembered the metallic stench thick in the air, the smoke choking my lungs, the screams of the dying carved into my skull.

And her. Gods, her.

She couldn’t have been older than eighteen, barely a soldier, but fierce and bright-eyed, with a spirit that had burned hotter than the sun. She’d looked at me like I was invincible, like following me meant safety. I had sworn that I would keep her alive. That no one under my command would be left behind.

But her body had lain in my arms that night, cold and broken, her blood staining my skin. I remembered the way her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, anything, before death claimed her. But the words never came—only silence. And I had carried that silence with me ever since.

I blinked, and the memory bled away, leaving me gasping, clutching the counter as though it might anchor me to the present. My wolf howled inside, restless, tormented, scratching against the edges of my control.

“Matt.”

The voice pierced the fog instantly.

I turned, and there he was. Paul. My Beta. My oldest friend. The one who had stood beside me through victories and losses alike. His gaze swept over me, sharp and unyielding, catching on the blood, the shards of glass, the storm in my expression.

“You’re bleeding.” He reached toward my hand, but I pulled it back before he could touch it.

“It’s nothing.” My voice was gravelly, low, and hoarse. The lie tasted like ash.

Paul didn’t move. He just studied me with that quiet, relentless patience of his. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” I snapped, harsher than I intended. “Having a drink? Is that a crime now?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” His tone cut sharper than steel. “You’re drowning yourself every time the weight threatens to crush you. That’s not strength, Matt. That’s surrender.”

I let out a hollow laugh, bitter and sharp. “And what would you have me do, Paul? Pretend everything’s fine? Pretend I don’t feel the ground splitting beneath my feet every damn day?”

His eyes narrowed. “No. I’d have you fight. The Alpha I know doesn’t bow to shadows. He claws his way through them.”

I looked away, jaw tight. His words clawed at something inside me, something raw and unhealed. The battlefield ghost whispered again in the back of my mind, taunting, reminding me of failure. Of how easily promises shatter.

“You don’t understand,” I muttered, voice breaking quieter this time.

“Then make me understand.” His words landed like a command, not a request. “Because if you don’t… those whispers out there? They’ll fester. They’ll grow. And sooner or later, they won’t just eat at you. They’ll eat at her. And when that happens, you won’t just lose your Luna, you’ll lose the pack.”

His stare pinned me in place, brutal and unflinching. He wasn’t just my Beta in that moment. He was the voice of reason, of loyalty, of everything I was supposed to embody. And it gutted me that I couldn’t answer him.

Instead, I stood abruptly, the stool screeching against the wooden floor. My blood left dark prints on the counter as I shoved away, the night air calling me like a punishment I deserved.

Paul’s voice followed, quiet but heavy as stone. “Running won’t save you this time, Matt.”

I froze in the doorway, shoulders taut, breath ragged. Beyond the threshold, the night stretched endlessly and cold. My wolf paced inside me, restless, furious, clawing to break free.

The whispers I’d overheard earlier circled back, louder now, overlapping with Laura’s sly smirk, burned into my memory. Hellen’s fragile frame haunted me still, her every shallow breath a dagger twisting deeper into my chest. And behind it all, always behind it, the face of the girl I couldn’t save.

I bared my teeth to the night, a silent vow threading through my rage: I would not fail again. I couldn’t.

But even as the words formed inside me, a sickening certainty coiled low in my gut.

Failure was already waiting for me.

Closer than I could ever imagine.