Chapter 47

Evelyn

It happened fast.

One minute, it was the average morning around camp, and the next was chaos. I suppose that was the way of war, but still, it was enough to give me whiplash.

I had been planning to meet with Scott in his office when the warhorn sounded and sent the entire camp into a frenzy. In an instant, I was swept away by the rush of people. I followed the crowd and was spilled out onto the battlefield by soldiers and medics alike.

It had happened too quickly for anyone to scream a warning before the warhorn, so I had no concrete understanding of what was going on. Or maybe the screams had just been drowned in the sound of flesh tearing, bones crunching, and war cries rising like smoke into the air.

Despite my confusion, I immediately sprang into action.

I rushed into the chaos, letting it embrace me as I hurried to do what I did best: heal.

One minute I was checking a soldier’s pulse, blood soaking through the bandage I’d only just applied. The next moment I was being called over to tend to a wolf with a leg hanging on by tendons.

Soon, my arms were soaked in blood to the elbows, my mind numb to all else but whatever gore was pushed in front of me.

At one point, I was shoved aside by the sheer force of something massive and feral. I was sent slamming into the perimeter wall, the collision knocking the air from me momentarily.

I gasped for breath, trying to regain some composure.

This was an organized, brutal, coordinated assault. There was so much blood and pain, it wasn’t hard to determine that it was the worst I had ever witnessed. Nothing compared to the sheer scale of this.

The field had exploded into violence. Bodies clashed like waves, claws meeting steel. The metallic scent of blood was heavy in the air, cloying as it filled my nose.

I scrambled to right myself again, still catching my breath. My heart was hammering as I scanned the chaos. It was a reflex to look for him.

Logan.

But all I could see was a sea of bodies. So many people were drawing blood. All of the medical wing’s supplies, staff, and talent wouldn’t be enough to staunch this flow.

My breathing was still shallow, and my ribs felt bruised, but I was determined to get back to it. I refused to stand there uselessly watching on. I searched for the nearest injury to tend to as I wiped my bloody hands on the front of my dress, all the while scanning for signs of Logan, too.

“Protect the Alpha!” someone bellowed.

I saw him then, standing in the clearing like a pillar amid the storm, blood already slick across his knuckles and flecking his face like freckles. His Gamma unit fought around him, but the center of the storm was drawn to him.

Watching him, it dawned on me. These rogues and this attack weren’t random. The coordination was too pointed. They weren’t here for territory or merely to incite superficial damage.

They were here for him.

Logan was focused on something in the distance, his gaze intense. I followed his line of sight, tracing it through the chaos until it landed on one werewolf who had also paused in the midst of the battle. He was staring right back at Logan.

His eyes were locked on Logan with such hatred, such wild, unrelenting hunger, that I felt it before I understood it.

This wasn’t just another battle. This was something personal.

And yet I had never seen this rogue before. I didn’t know of any personal grudges Logan held with the rogues, only that they were collectively a menace to our society.

But there was something in Logan’s expression that looked like hurt and regret. He clenched his hands at his sides as he watched this stranger, setting his jaw with newfound determination.

"Jesse," someone near me realized between panting breaths. "The rogue leader. The bastard. He’s here!"

Bastard. Could they mean the former Alpha’s bastard? I looked between the two men facing off.

Yes, I could see it. The longer I looked, the more the similarities became apparent. They had the same dark curls and the same nose. It was like looking at a reflection in a warped mirror.

But Logan had never mentioned a half-brother. Surely, the rogue leader’s identity would have been better known if they were related, right?

I suppose that wouldn’t be true if it had all been a secret that others had been merely speculating on. But in that moment, the evidence of it all was plainly obvious.

On that battlefield, though, it didn’t matter who knew and who didn’t. It was clear just looking between them that this man wasn’t just here to fight Logan. He was here to break him.

Logan straightened as Jesse approached, bruised but unyielding. He stomped between the fighting going on around him, and his rogues parted the way for him dutifully.

I stumbled forward, drawn to the confrontation. No one parted for me, and I pushed flailing bodies aside in my pursuit.

Neither of them noticed me approach. I was a medic soaked in the blood that covered the surrounding field. They paid me no mind. They only had enough time and focus for each other.

Jesse’s voice cut through the chaos as I stood, frozen stiff and still struggling to breathe. “I challenge you. Right here. Right now.”

Logan didn’t flinch. “Our father already won, Jesse. Years ago. You were not meant to be the Alpha then, and you aren’t now. Go and finish your exile with grace, brother.”

A ripple passed through the rogue ranks. I could feel the air tense like it was holding its breath.

“That duel was rigged by a coward,” Jesse spat. “You call that justice? You call banishment a victory?”

“And what do you call this?” Logan snapped, gesturing to the slaughter around them, “Honor? Your petty grudge has led to too many deaths. End this now and leave, and I will let you go with your life.”

Jesse’s face twisted. “You never wanted peace. You just wanted to forget me. You and father and all the rest.”

“And you never learned when to stop,” Logan growled.

It should’ve ended there. But of course, it didn’t.

Jesse let out a howl, sharp and furious, and in the next instant, the rogues surged forward. I saw Gamma unit soldiers drop, cries of agony tearing through the air. And then Jesse launched himself at Logan with a snarl that shook me to the bone even from where I was standing yards away.

Jesse’s teeth were bared, and he looked furious, years of betrayal and fury being channeled into his attack.

Logan braced for the blow.

But he didn’t see what I saw.

He didn’t see the madness in Jesse’s eyes. The desperation. The death wish. Jesse wasn’t aiming to fight fair. This would not be a battle for the Alphahood between two half-brothers.

Jesse was aiming to kill.

I didn’t think. I moved.

My feet left the ground as I hurled myself forward. I didn’t even register the pain until the claws scraped across my ribs, until I hit Logan hard enough to knock the wind from both of us.

In his blind rage, Jesse kept attacking. His fist missed Logan by inches.

But it didn’t miss me.

The impact blurred my vision, ringing my skull like a bell. I crumpled against Logan’s chest before sliding to the muddy ground, breath hitching as blood bloomed somewhere beneath my clothes.

I heard Logan shout my name. It sounded raw, ragged.

Then came the chaos again, the shouts, growls, weapons clashing, and commands bellowed.

I clutched my wound with one hand, somehow aware that I’d just stepped between two storms.

And I didn’t regret it.

Not even for a second.