Jamie POV
"The storm didn't come from the sky... it came from me."
By the time we reached the outskirts of Furstone, the skies had cleared like nothing had ever happened. No trace of the thunder that had ripped through the night, no lingering haze of glowing mist or burning air. Just silence. Stillness.
But it wasn't peace. Not to me.
I could still feel the buzz in my skin. Like static clinging to my bones, like something ancient had been shaken awake. My hands tingled, though no light poured from them now. No red or snow or gold. Just trembling fingers I kept curled into my sleeves.
Andrew hadn't said a word since I woke.
His hand found mine once during the walk—strong, warm, reassuring—but even that didn't last long. It was as if he didn't know what to do with me now. As if I were no longer just his Jamie, his mate-in-training. But something else. Something dangerous.
He didn't look afraid. No. That wasn't Andrew. But there was a tightness in his jaw, a new heaviness behind his silence.
I didn't ask questions. I wanted to. But the words kept tangling on my tongue. I was still trying to piece together what even happened. What that… dream-state was. The glowing hands. The crack of lightning. The voice that wasn't mine in my head whispered: "He will fall to protect you."
The air in Furstone had changed.
Not just from the storm that wasn't supposed to exist, but from the people.
We passed two warriors fixing a broken fence near the southern watch post. They both paused when they saw us. Whispered. One nodded in my direction. The other sniffed the air. Their eyes lingered a little too long before they went back to work.
I lowered my gaze.
Andrew noticed. He always does. "Ignore them," he said. His voice was low, his tone protective. "They don't know anything."
But they wanted to. Everyone did.
The closer we got to the heart of the pack, the more it became obvious that the storm hadn't just been seen—it had been felt. In the bones. On the earth. In every wolf who dreamed and woke with their ears ringing.
Even the elders stood outside the council chamber steps, heads tilted toward the sky like they were searching for answers in the clouds.
We didn't go near them. Andrew turned us down a back trail, one only the guards and patrols use. The one that led straight to the small cottage behind the Alpha quarters—the one Alpha Jackson built when Andrew was younger and needed space.
Our space now.
When we got inside, the door clicked shut behind us. Andrew didn't speak. He went to the basin, splashed cold water on his face, and braced himself on the sink. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the controlled breathing. He was trying to calm the storm that still rumbled inside him.
And me? I sat on the edge of the bed and just… watched him. Watched the way his muscles flexed with every breath. Watched the way his eyes refused to meet mine.
I finally said it. Softly. "You think it was the prophecy, don't you?"
He froze.
Then turned to me, slowly, eyes darker than before. "I don't know what I think."
I nodded, even though that answer twisted in my chest.
"I didn't mean to do it," I whispered. "Whatever it was."
Andrew crossed the room in two steps and knelt in front of me. His hands came to rest on my thighs, grounding me. His voice gentled. "You don't have to apologise for something you couldn't control. Something you didn't even understand."
"But what if next time I can't stop it? What if someone else sees?"
"Then we'll face it. Together."
His eyes met mine finally, and the weight behind them hit me harder than the storm.
"I'm not going anywhere, Jamie. Not now. Not after…" he paused, his voice thickening, "...everything."
I could still feel him on my skin. The imprint of his body on mine. The way we'd moved beneath the trees like our souls already knew each other.
I let out a shaky breath. "I'm scared, Andrew."
"So am I."
There was a knock at the door before either of us could say more. Sharp. Formal.
Andrew stood, instantly on guard. He opened the door halfway, and I heard the voice even before I saw the face.
"Andrew of Furstone. You're summoned to the Council Hall. Immediately."
A young warrior, eyes unreadable.
Andrew didn't flinch. He nodded once, clipped. "I'll be there shortly."
The door closed again.
He didn't look at me right away. He went to the window, gaze scanning the now-calm skies. His voice was almost a whisper when he finally spoke.
"They know something. Or they're starting to."
I stood and walked toward him. "You think they'll blame you?"
He turned, then his Alpha mask slipping back over his face. "I think they'll want to blame someone. And if they can't blame you without proof, they'll blame me for keeping secrets."
He leaned down and kissed my forehead. Soft. Brief. A soldier's goodbye.
"I won't let them touch you."
And then he left.
Leaving me alone in the cottage. Along with my thoughts. My fears.
And the faintest crackle of heat in my palms that never quite went away.