40. REMI

40

REMI

The surge of magic is like a lightning bolt through my veins. I feel it, sharp and electrifying, as the air around us shifts. It’s Nepheline—I can feel her strength radiating through the bond, pulsing outward like a beacon.

But it’s not just her.

I watch, frozen in awe and disbelief, as Mateo shifts and then stirs, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. And then he moves. Slowly, deliberately, he pushes himself to his feet, his crimson eyes blazing with a fire I haven’t ever seen. The wound along his chest stitches together, the skin mending itself. Even in the darkness, the magic is so thick that we can almost see it, wrapping around Mateo, healing him, powering him, guiding him.

For a moment, no one breathes.

The First Alpha tilts his head, his golden eyes narrowing as he watches Mateo rise. “Impossible,” he snarls, his voice low and guttural. “You should be dead.”

Mateo doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. The power radiating off of him speaks volumes. The tension is palpable, the air thick with the weight of the moment. Every wolf around us is still holding our breath, the fight momentarily forgotten as the two Alphas face off.

The magic extends beyond Mateo. I can feel it just beneath the skin, in my bones, in my soul. Every bit of pain, every gash, every wound slowly falls away, Nepheline's unique signature beneath it all.

The fight is brutal, raw, and primal. It’s not the elegant, calculated battle of wolves—it’s something messier, more human. Fists collide with bone, blood flies through the air, and the sounds of their grunts and growls echo through the clearing.

Mateo takes the first hit, a sharp uppercut to his jaw that sends him staggering back. But he recovers quickly, his movements precise as he counters with a punch to the First Alpha’s side.

I stand on the sidelines, my wolf pacing just beneath my skin as I watch them. My hands are clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I fight the urge to jump in. But this is Mateo’s fight.

The First Alpha snarls, his movements almost too fast to track as he lands a series of brutal blows to Mateo’s ribs. Mateo grits his teeth, refusing to go down, even as blood drips from the corner of his mouth.

“Come on, Mateo,” I murmur under my breath, my heart pounding. “You’ve got this.”

Maverick’s voice cuts through the mindlink, sharp and encouraging. He’s holding his own. Stay ready, though. The bastard won’t fight fair.

And he’s right.

The First Alpha lunges again, his hands twisting unnaturally as shadows swirl around him. He uses them like weapons, striking at Mateo with tendrils of darkness that burn against his skin.

Mateo lets out a pained growl but doesn’t falter. He grabs one of the shadows, pulling it taut before snapping it back toward the First Alpha. The move is unexpected and it gives him an opening—a brutal punch to the First Alpha’s face that sends him reeling.

“Yes!” I hiss, my wolf howling in approval.

But it’s not over.

The First Alpha recovers as well, his golden eyes blazing with fury as he charges forward. The two collide, grappling for control, their movements a blur of strength and fury. Blood stains the ground beneath them, the metallic scent thick in the air. Mateo’s breathing is labored, his body battered, but he doesn’t stop. His determination is unyielding, his focus razor-sharp as he fights not just for himself but for all of us.

The fight drags on, each blow landing with a sickening thud that makes my stomach twist. I’ve never seen Mateo like this—so raw, so relentless. It’s both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

The First Alpha lands a brutal kick to Mateo’s ribs and I wince as he crumples to the ground. For a moment, I think it’s over. But then Mateo looks up, blood dripping from his nose, his crimson eyes blazing with defiance. “Is that all you’ve got?” he growls, his voice rough but unbroken.

The First Alpha snarls, his lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth. “You’re just delaying the inevitable,” he says, his voice a low hiss.

Mateo smirks, his teeth stained with blood. “And you talk too much.”

The First Alpha’s movements become more frantic, more erratic, as the fight wears on. His shadows lash out wildly, but they lack the precision they had before. Mateo takes advantage, his strikes becoming more calculated, more deliberate. He lands a brutal blow to the First Alpha’s chest, followed by another to his jaw.

Above us, lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating the carnage around us. The super wolves lie scattered at our feet—some unmoving, others barely clinging to life. The darts worked on most of them, severing the connection between wolf and man. But others weren’t so lucky. Their bodies, twisted and broken, litter the ground, a grim reminder of what we’re fighting against.

I can’t take my eyes off Mateo. He’s our Alpha, our leader, and in this moment, he’s unstoppable.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Bo says as he moves to stand beside me in his human form.

The clearing feels like it’s holding its breath as Mateo delivers blow after blow, each one landing with sickening force. Blood mixes with the rain that’s starting to fall and the First Alpha stumbles, his movements slowing.

And then it happens.

Maverick dives.

His talons glint in the lightning as he swoops down, slamming into the First Alpha’s chest. The impact is brutal, the First Alpha letting out a guttural roar as Maverick’s claws dig deep, tearing into him with savage precision.

Mateo doesn’t hesitate. He takes advantage of the opening, his claws flashing as he drives them into the First Alpha’s throat. The shadows around him dissolve, melting into the ground as the First Alpha collapses.

It’s over.

Mateo throws his head back and lets out a powerful howl, the sound reverberating through the clearing like a wave. It’s a call of victory, of triumph, and one by one, we join him.

The sound is deafening, a chorus of wolves rising into the storm, and I feel it—magic. It floods the clearing, filling every nook and cranny, washing away the darkness that’s plagued us for so long. It’s like a weight has been lifted, the air lighter, freer.

And then I hear it.

A baby’s cry.

It’s faint, but it cuts through the bond like a beacon, and my heart stops.

We’ve won.

Nepheline’s voice comes through the mindlink, soft and filled with emotion. She’s here.

I fall to my knees, overwhelmed by the rush of relief and joy. Tears blur my vision as I look up at Mateo, who’s standing tall, his chest heaving, his crimson eyes glowing with victory. He’s battered, bleeding, but alive— and healing .

“She did it,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “They both did.”