Double Trouble, Triple Heat

Chapter 28

The new council's first order of business is Joseph.

For days, the debate rages. Execution is the traditional punishment for his crimes—leading hunters against the pack, orchestrating deaths, threatening alpha children. Some argue for it loudly, passionately. Blood for blood. The old way.

But we're not following the old ways anymore.

"He should rot," Luna says flatly at the council meeting. "Slowly. Painfully. For what he did to our people."

"Death is too quick," Eldric counters, ancient voice heavy with consideration. "Too merciful for one who caused so much suffering."

"The pack lost seventeen wolves," Miriam adds quietly. "Seventeen families who will never be whole again. Because of him."

Dominic stays silent, watching me. Waiting. Through the bond, I feel him deferring to my judgment—this is my enemy, my stalker, the man who tried to destroy my family. The decision should be mine.

And I've made it.

"We turn him over to human authorities," I say.

The council stares.

"He stalked me for months before any of this began. Harassment, threats, breaking into my apartment. There's a paper trail—police reports I filed, security footage, witnesses from my old job." I look around the table. "The supernatural elements would sound like madness. But his human crimes? Those we can prove."

"You want him in a human prison," Caspian says slowly, understanding dawning. "Not dead. Alive. Knowing the truth."

"Knowing monsters are real," I confirm. "And spending years in a cage where no one will ever believe him."

Luna's lips curl into something that might be approval. "That's almost crueler than killing him."

"Yes," I say. "It is."

The council votes. The motion passes.

Before he's taken away, I visit Joseph's cell one last time.

He's a broken man—one-armed, face scarred by my claws, eyes wild with a madness that's only grown in captivity. When he sees me, he lunges against his chains, snarling like an animal.

The irony isn't lost on me.

"Sera." My name is a curse on his lips. "Come to gloat?"

"Come to say goodbye." I stay just out of his reach, watching him with something that isn't quite satisfaction. Something colder. "The human authorities are coming for you tomorrow. Stalking. Harassment. Conspiracy to commit violence. They found your files, Joseph. All those notes you kept about me. All those photos."

His face pales. "They'll never make it stick. I have lawyers—"

"Your family disowned you when they heard what happened here. Turns out they don't appreciate members who start wars without permission." I tilt my head. "You're alone, Joseph. Completely, utterly alone."

He stares at me, and for the first time, I see real fear beneath the madness.

"You'll spend years in a cage," I tell him softly. "Knowing monsters are real and no one will ever believe you. Every night, you'll wonder if we're watching. If we're coming. Every shadow will look like a wolf. Every stranger will look like a threat."

"You can't—"

"I can. I am." I step closer, just close enough for him to see the gold flickering in my eyes. "You wanted to own me, Joseph. You wanted to break me. Instead, you made me into something stronger than I ever would have been without you."

His chains rattle as he strains toward me. "You're crueler than I thought."

"You taught me that."

I turn and walk away. Behind me, he screams my name—once, twice, over and over until the doors close and the stone walls swallow the sound.

I don't look back.

Later that night, I sit between Dominic and Caspian in our room, the fire burning low. The babies sleep in their cradles nearby, peaceful and unaware of the darkness their mother just walked through.

"Is it wrong?" I ask quietly. "That I wanted him dead? Part of me still does."

Dominic shakes his head. "No. He deserved death. He deserved worse than death for what he did to this pack. To you." His hand finds mine, squeezes. "But letting him live in fear—watching him suffer knowing he can never touch us again—that's better. You made the hard choice."

"The strategic choice," Caspian adds. "Dead enemies are martyrs. Living enemies are warnings." He grins, trying to lighten the mood. "Plus, killing him would've made the paperwork terrible. The human police are already confused about why a one-armed stalker was found wandering the woods screaming about werewolves."

I laugh—the first real laugh since everything happened.

It bubbles up from somewhere deep, surprising me with its warmth. Caspian grins wider, pleased with himself. Even Dominic's lips twitch toward a smile.

It feels like healing.

That night, wrapped between my mates, I dream.

I'm standing in a forest I don't recognize—ancient trees stretching toward a sky full of stars. The air smells like home, like pack, like something older and deeper than memory. A clearing opens before me, bathed in moonlight so bright it seems solid.

A woman walks toward me through the trees.

She's golden and beautiful, with hair that catches light that isn't there and eyes warm with love I've never seen but somehow remember. She moves like water, like moonlight, like everything I've imagined since I was old enough to wonder about the mother I never knew.

My heart stops. Restarts. Pounds against my ribs.

"Lena," I whisper.

"My little star." Her voice is exactly what I always imagined—warm and fierce and full of love. "Look at you. Look at what you've become."

"Mom." The word catches in my throat, a childhood wound finally healing. "I found the pack. I found—"

"I know." She reaches out, cups my face in hands that feel like sunlight. "I've been watching. Always watching. From the moment you drove into Silverpine Falls, from the moment you met your mates, from the moment you stood before the pack and refused to break." Her eyes shine with tears that don't fall. "You've done so well, Sera. Your mates. Your children. Your pack. You've built everything I dreamed of and more."

"I don't know what I'm doing," I admit. "There are threats coming. Old powers. Things I don't understand. The witch said—"

"The witch speaks the truth, but not all of it." Lena's expression grows serious. "You'll learn. You'll grow. You'll face them the way you've faced everything else—with courage and love and the people who stand beside you." She smiles, and it's like the sun breaking through clouds. "But this is only the beginning, little star. Be brave. Be kind. Be fierce."

"Don't go." I reach for her, but she's already fading, edges dissolving into golden mist. "Mom, please—I have so many questions—"

"I never left," her voice echoes as she dissolves into golden light. "I'm in every bond you forge. Every life you protect. Every time you choose love over fear. I'm in Elias's eyes when he watches you. In Aurora's laugh. In the way your mates hold you like you're precious."

The light surrounds me, warm and gentle and full of love.

"I'm so proud of you, Sera. So proud."

I wake with tears on my face and gold flickering in my eyes.

Dominic is already awake, watching me with concern. Caspian stirs on my other side, sensing the shift in my emotions through the bond.

"Bad dream?" Dominic asks softly.

"No." I wipe my cheeks, but I'm smiling. "The opposite. The best dream I've ever had."

He doesn't ask for details. Just pulls me closer, presses a kiss to my hair, and holds me while Caspian wraps around us from behind. The first light of dawn creeps through the windows, painting everything in shades of gold.

My mother came to say goodbye. Or maybe hello. Maybe both.

Either way, I finally know: she's proud of what I've become. Of what we're building. Of the family I've found.

From their cradles, Elias and Aurora begin to stir—small sounds, tiny yawns, the start of another day in our new life.

I'm ready for whatever comes next.

And I'm not alone.