Chapter 6

Elara Thorne POV:

The first light of dawn was just breaking over the horizon as Magnus and I shouldered our packs. We were ready.

Just as we were about to open the door, it swung inward. My second son, Corbin, stood there, covered in sawdust and looking weary. A year younger than Magnus, he was the quiet, steady one. He worked at the lumber mill in town and only came home every few days. He knew nothing of the revolution that had taken place.

He froze, taking in the sight of us, packed and ready to leave. "Mom? Magnus? Where are you going?"

His gaze then fell on Freya, curled up and miserable in the corner, and the bolted woodshed door. His brow furrowed in confusion.

I looked at Corbin, my most dependable child, the one who had quietly given me his meager earnings for years. He deserved the truth.

I had Magnus tell him everything. The years of abuse from his grandparents, Freya's selfishness, and the ultimate betrayal of his father, Lycus.

Corbin listened without interruption, his expression not of shock, but of grim understanding. He was wiser than his years; he had seen the rotten core of his family long ago.

"I always knew there was more to Father's leaving," Corbin said, his voice low and hard. "Mom, I'm coming with you."

His loyalty warmed my heart, but I shook my head. "No, Corbin. I need you here."

I explained my reasoning. Someone had to watch the grandparents, to give them just enough food and water to keep them alive. If they died, the pack would investigate, and my plans would be ruined. Someone had to manage Freya, to stop her from running to the deacon with more lies.

"I need someone strong and level-headed to hold this ground," I said, my eyes meeting his, filled with trust. "That person is you."

Corbin understood. Guarding the rear was as vital as leading the charge.

He gave a solemn nod. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll handle everything here. No one will interfere with your plans."

Magnus clapped his younger brother on the shoulder. An unspoken bond of solidarity passed between them.

Corbin then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn leather pouch. It was all the money he had saved. He pressed it into my hand. "You'll need this on the road."

I didn't refuse. It was his contribution to our war.

I took one last look around the miserable cabin that had been my prison for a decade. I felt no nostalgia, no regret.

"Take care of yourself," I told Corbin.

Then, with Magnus at my side, I walked out the door and didn't look back.

Corbin stood in the doorway, watching until our figures were swallowed by the morning mist. Then he turned, his expression hardening as he looked at the woodshed, and then at his sister. His watch had begun.

As Magnus and I walked toward the town station, my heart was finally free of all burdens. Our family's war of reclamation had officially begun.

"Mother," Magnus asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Can we really do this? The Stoneclaw Pack is one of the strongest."

A cold, determined smile touched my lips. "We have the Goddess's token, and we have the truth. That is all we need."