Chapter Forty-four

**GABRIEL'S POV**
The second meeting with the neighboring packs was supposed to bring clarity, and some form of resolution, but I left feeling more frustrated than when I arrived. I walked out of the central meeting hall, my hands balled into fists, my blood boiling with rage. It was the same old story: vague warnings, veiled threats, and cryptic advice. The alphas were hiding something. That much was clear. And they were keeping it from me, from all of us.
The clouds were dark and heavy, a perfect imitation of my mood as I headed for my car.
“Gabriel, wait up!” Alpha Kyle called after me, but I ignored him. I had no patience for more evasiveness.
The meeting had started just as pointless as the last one. The alphas sat around the table, their expressions grim, talking in circles about the deaths that were piling up, both in our pack and in theirs. But when it came time to discuss the force behind these killings, they all clammed up, offering nothing but half-truths and empty words. All of which boiled down to the same thing- they wanted me to surrender Oliver.
“We have reason to believe the force is stronger than we initially thought,” Alpha John had said, his face pale. “It’s not something we can fight alone.”
I’d leaned forward, my temper barely in check. “Then tell me what we’re dealing with,” I demanded. “What is it? Who is it?”
But instead of giving me the answers I desperately needed, they exchanged glances, each one passing the burden of explanation onto the next, until finally, one of them, Alpha Dan, spoke up.
“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice low and wary. “The truth is…we don’t know for sure. There are whispers, legends—“
“Legends?” I interrupted, my anger flaring. “People are dying, and all you have to offer are legends?”
“Calm down, Gabriel,” another alpha said, though his voice was tight with anxiety. “We’re all trying to figure this out.”
“No,” I snapped. “You’re hiding something. You know more than you’re telling us.”
The room had fallen into a tense silence, none of them willing to meet my eyes. That’s when I knew. They were keeping something from me, and that something had to do with Oliver.
When the meeting finally ended, I left with a bitter taste in my mouth and a sinking feeling in my chest. My head spun with unanswered questions, and all I could think about was getting back to Oliver. I needed to talk to him, to make sure he was safe. To make sure we were safe.
But deep down, a nagging thought whispered that maybe Oliver knew more than he was letting on. He had been distant lately, preoccupied with something he wouldn’t share with me. And now, with the neighboring packs withholding vital information, the pieces didn’t add up.
I maneuvered the car through the roads, running at a speed that seemed to satisfy a primal need inside me. A speed imitating the anger and fear that I felt. By the time I reached the pack house, my muscles were tight with tension. The walls of the house seemed to close in around me as I walked through the door, the silence deafening. Something felt off. I couldn’t explain it, but it was like the air had shifted like a storm was on the horizon, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
I headed straight for the bedroom, expecting to find Oliver there, but the room was empty. My heart pounded as I searched the house, calling out for him, but there was no answer.
“Oliver?” I shouted, my voice echoing through the empty halls.
Panic surged through me. Where was he?
As I turned to leave the bedroom, something caught my eye, a piece of paper sticking out from under one of the pillows on the bed. I reached for it, my fingers trembling as I unfolded the note. It was a note, written in hurried, uneven handwriting. The words sent a chill down my spine:
“More people would die, Oliver. Please do the right thing. We can’t fight them.”
I read the note over and over again, my heart racing, and my mind spinning. Who had sent this? And more importantly, why hadn’t Oliver told me about it? Anger surged through me, hot and fierce. He’d been keeping secrets. He’d known about this, about them, and he hadn’t told me. I crumpled the note in my fist, the paper crinkling under the pressure of my grip.
I stormed out of the bedroom, my mind whirling with a thousand thoughts. Why hadn’t Oliver trusted me? Why hadn’t he come to me with this? Did he think I wouldn’t protect him? Did he think I would let them take him?
I pushed open the door to the back porch, the cool air hitting my face as I stepped outside. I spotted Oliver sitting by the river, his back turned to me, his head lowered in deep thought. My heart clenched at the sight of him. He looked so small, so fragile like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. But at the same time, I felt a surge of anger. He should have told me. He should have trusted me.
I walked toward him, my footsteps heavy on the ground, my heart pounding in my chest. When I reached him, I didn’t say anything at first. I just stood there, watching him, trying to figure out what to say. How to say it?
“Gabriel,” Oliver said quietly, without turning around. His voice was soft, tired.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice harsher than I intended.
He turned slowly, his eyes meeting mine, and I could see the guilt in his expression. He knew exactly what I was talking about.
“Gabriel, I…”
“You should have told me,” I interrupted, stepping closer. “How long have you had the note?”
Oliver lowered his gaze, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he said softly. “I thought…I thought I could handle it on my own.”
“Handle it on your own?” I repeated, my anger flaring again. “Oliver, they’re coming for you! They’re killing people to get to you, and you thought you could just handle it on your own?”
“I don’t want you more involved than this,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “You already have so much to deal with. The pack, the deaths, everything. I didn’t want to be more of a burden.”
I stared at him, my heart aching with a mix of anger and fear. “You’re not a burden,” I said quietly. “You’re the most important thing to me, Oliver. And if something happens to you—”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with emotion. “I know, Gabriel. I know. But this…this is my responsibility. I’m the goddess’s priest. This…this is happening because of me.”
I shook my head, kneeling in front of him, grabbing his hands in mine. “No. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this.”
“But it’s still happening because of me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
I pulled him into my arms, holding him tightly against me, feeling his heart beating against my chest. “We’ll figure this out,” I said, my voice firm. “We’ll stop them. Together.”
Oliver didn’t respond, but he held onto me, his grip tight as if he was afraid to let go. For a long time, we stayed like that, holding each other by the river, the wind rustling through the trees around us. The sun had started to set, casting a soft golden light across the water, but the beauty of it was lost on me. All I could think about was the note, the deaths, and the growing threat looming over us.
“They won’t stop,” I whispered, echoing the words from the letter. “But neither will I. I won’t let them take you from me.”
Oliver pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting mine. There was a strength in his gaze now, a determination that hadn’t been there before.
“We have to be ready,” he said, his voice steady. “Whatever’s coming…we have to be ready.”
I nodded, my grip on him tightening. “We will be. I promise you that.”
But as I held him in my arms, a cold chill ran down my spine. The note had said they were coming for him, and I had no idea who they were. But I knew one thing for sure: I would burn the world before I let them take Oliver from me.