"A family," Nero corrected softly. "Different from the one you lost, but no less real, and you are both members of the silver wolf's pack."
"But I'm not a wolf," River whispered.
"Doesn't matter," Casteel said, with far more conviction than he felt.
The boy's lower lip trembled. For a heartbeat, the anger held—then crumbled like the tunnel behind them. He launched himself at Nero, small arms wrapping around the warrior's neck with such force that Nero winced.
River sobbed against Nero's shoulder. "When they came again, I thought—I thought—"
"I know," Nero murmured, holding the trembling child close despite his injuries. "I know."
Casteel swallowed his feelings, but he knew they were in a world of trouble. Doran would come at them again and again, and he couldn't bear to stand and watch Nero captured. River needed him. Abergenny needed him.
And he was a liability. Nero had demonstrated he would do anything to keep him safe and neither the people nor the kingdom could afford that risk.
The only way of stopping that was to remove himself. Nero had already made the ultimate sacrifice in losing his family.
It was time Casteel did the same.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The weight of realizationsettled in Casteel's heart as he watched Nero comfort the traumatized child. He felt his mate's fierce protectiveness—not just for him now, but for River as well. But that protection had become a chain that would drag them all to destruction. Doran would never stop hunting them. The High Priest had seen the truth now, knew that Nero carried the wolf-soul, and his obsession would burn kingdoms to ash before he accepted defeat. Every moment they remained together, every second Nero spent protecting him instead of fulfilling the prophecy, innocent people died.
The mathematics of sacrifice were brutally simple. One life to save thousands. One heartbreak to prevent a kingdom's fall.
And Casteel knew now, thanks to the blood magic, that his death wouldn't destroy the wolf-soul. If anything, Nero should flourish free of the constant weight around his neck.
Or was that fair?
He knew Nero loved him, just doubted it wasn't mixed in with responsibility and duty, which in turn made their love aburden Nero could never set down. He never wanted to be a burden. He'd dreamed of the Skellarae again. He'd imagined a future where Nero and he could live with their family and visit the horses, but that would never happen. There would always be an enemy. Even if they defeated Doran, the Silver Wolf would always be something others wanted to control and he would always be a weakness to exploit.
Could he live like that?
Was it fair to make Nero live like that?
Martha cleared her throat softly. "The rendezvous point is two miles north," she said, her practical voice cutting through. "Lord Morven's people will be waiting with horses and supplies."
Casteel nodded, but his mind was already racing ahead to darker calculations. The gathering of nobles would reassemble elsewhere, and they would look to the Silver Wolf for leadership. They needed Nero focused, not divided. And his death would divide Nero. Maybe instead of a burden, Casteel could be an asset?
He just didn't know how.
Nero had lost his first family, his son Romash, his wife and unborn child. He'd carried that guilt for years, let it shape him into the rebellion’s perfect weapon. Now fate was offering him a chance at redemption—a new family, a child who needed him, a cause worth dying for.
"We should move," Nero said, reluctantly releasing River but keeping one hand on the boy's shoulder. "We need to join Morven as soon as we can."
They walked through the orchard in silence, the burning manor casting dancing shadows between the apple trees.
At the forest's edge, they found the rendezvous point—a clearing where Lord Morven waited with a handful of surviving nobles and their retainers. His own force of guards and servants had joined them. Horses stamped nervously in the moonlight,their riders' faces grim with the knowledge of how close they'd come to complete disaster.
"The Silver Wolf," Morven said, relief evident in his voice as Nero emerged from the tree line. "We feared the worst when the manor went up in flames."
"Doran knows the truth now," Nero replied, his arm still around River's shoulders. "The pursuit will intensify. We need to move farther into the mountains tonight."
Morven nodded grimly. "The southern passes are already impossible. We'll head north toward my old fortress at Ravenscar. Doran's forces won't expect us to move deeper into contested territory, he would expect us to flee."
Casteel felt Nero's exhaustion. The wolf's healing abilities had closed his wounds, but the strain of continuous fighting had drained even his reserves. Yet Nero stood tall, his voice steady as he discussed strategy with the surviving nobles, never revealing the pain that Casteel could feel throbbing through their connection.
"River needs rest," Casteel said, drawing attention to River, who swayed on his feet beside Nero. "And food."
