Chapter 17.3

‘Don’t underestimate Tempest. She’s stronger than she looks.’
“Kalmin?” Nuri tapped his shoulder, eyes wide with concern. “Is Rian okay? Are you?”
“Yes,” he lied, slowing as they neared Gael’s block, trying to calm the raging storm inside both him and Rian.
“Don’t kill him,” she whispered.
Kalmin turned, glaring. “What?”
“I know what he did. And I know how much that hurts. But it’s not your kill to make.”
“Excuse me?” Kalmin’s eyes widened, black and sharp with disbelief.
“It’s not your kill to make,” she repeated slowly. “I was three. Tempest hadn’t even taken over yet. She wants this. If you take it from her—if Rian does—she’ll never forgive you.”
Kalmin slammed the brakes, parking at the edge of Gael’s drive. He grabbed Nuri’s hand before she could open the door and turned her face toward him, thumb resting on her jaw.
“Is she ready to take a life? Are you ready to watch her do it?”
“I don’t have a choice,” Nuri whispered, voice cracking. Her body trembled, torn between the rush of fury and Tempest’s need to break free.
“Tempest, pull back,” Kalmin murmured, his nose brushing hers. “I won’t stop you. But let me speak to him first.”
He could see it in her eyes—the fire, the hate, the hollow burn that wasn’t entirely Nuri. Tempest was close. Closer than he’d ever seen her.
“Tempest, pull back. I’m not going to stop you,” Kalmin said, bringing his face so close their noses nearly touched, “but you will give me the chance to speak to him first.”
The fire burning in Nuri’s eyes was unmistakable—hot, dangerous, alive. It wasn’t just anger. It was Tempest. Kalmin saw it in the way her stare went vacant, that telltale sign that the wolf had taken over.
“I’m not going to ask you again,” he warned, his voice sharpening as his eyes narrowed to slits.
“Why does he need to talk to him first?” Nuri snapped, echoing Tempest’s fury. “Is he trying to say I don’t have the right?”
“What did you think would happen?” Kalmin shot back. “That we’d barge into a man’s house and kill him without a word? That’s not justice, that’s slaughter. As you said—it happened sixteen years ago.”
He paused, his jaw tightening as he did the math. “He’s thirty-two now… he was sixteen when it happened.”
The number settled like lead in his chest. Sixteen. Still old enough to know what he was doing.
No excuse.
‘Use this,’ Rian said gently. ‘Show the pack how far your degree can go, even in something as ugly as this. Let her have her justice—before the pack. It’ll do more good than vengeance ever could.’
“You’re going to let him explain himself?” Nuri said, Tempest’s bitter laugh curling on her lips. “Of course. Purebreds always protect their own.”
“No,” Kalmin said quickly, reaching into the back seat. “But Rian just had an idea.” He grabbed his laptop and began typing, fingers flying over the keys as a subpoena took shape on the screen.
He didn’t need to say it aloud—Nuri’s breath caught the moment she saw what he was doing. She leaned back in her seat, something softening inside her, like a storm that had found the horizon.
“Tempest, I know you want this—so do I—but Kalmin’s trying to change the bylaws for us. We can’t scream for justice and then rip it away ourselves. This is how we win.”
She sent the thought inward, hoping it would reach through the rage.
‘We’re still going to get justice. But we’re going to do it right.’
‘I want it now,’ Tempest growled. ‘I couldn’t protect you then. I wasn’t fully formed—’
‘And what you want now isn’t protection. It’s vengeance,’ Nuri said, eyes fluttering closed as her head tipped back. ‘Please, Tempest. I’m not ready. I’m not.’
‘How long?’ Tempest asked, her voice trembling with rage and disbelief. Her fury wasn’t just aimed at Kalmin anymore. It was at Nuri—for backing down. For hesitating. Her cowardice.
How could she have been paired with a coward?
“I’ll make you a deal,” Kalmin said suddenly, snapping his laptop shut and placing it on the backseat. “I still need to print this, but when we come back to give it to him, you’ll have two options.”
“She’s listening,” Nuri murmured, giving him a nod. Tempest was trying to mask it, but Nuri could feel it—that undercurrent of disdain, that gnawing disappointment. Tempest didn’t understand why Nuri was hesitating to watch a man die for what he did.
Kalmin’s voice stayed calm. Controlled.
“You can challenge him. Here. Now. Rian and I will bear witness. Or—” he paused, letting the weight of the next words settle “—you can take it higher. Make it public. Demand justice before the pack.”
“Challenge to the death?” Nuri asked, voicing Tempest’s thoughts.
“Yes. Or you can walk in there and kill him, and the world will see it as a hybrid snapping and murdering a beta.”
“But that’s not what it is!” Nuri’s voice cracked with frustration. It wasn’t fair.
“It doesn’t matter,” Kalmin said, dismissing the plea with a wave of his hand as he reached for the gear shift. “That’s all anyone will see it as. So choose, Tempest. Do you want justice… or vengeance?”
“She wants a promise,” Nuri said, staring at him hard. “That this isn’t a trick. That you’re not just trying to protect your own.”
Kalmin met her gaze with steady resolve. “I swear on my pride. On my status as Alpha of the Blue River pack. You’ll get your justice. I’m only asking you to let me deliver it in a way that helps all hybrids. And if you don’t trust me… trust Rian. It was his idea.”
“If you’re lying,” Nuri said, her voice colder now, “she wants nothing to do with either of you.”
She didn’t say the rest—didn’t need to.
Tempest’s threat hung in the air like a blade.