Other than the occasional birds getting out their final chirps before settling down for the approaching evening, their walk across the green fields towards the burial grounds was quiet. Although it was unnecessary for Michael to lead the way, he had found himself several steps ahead while Lukas lagged behind.

The distance had nothing to do with his role as Michael's guard, but everything to do with the older wolf's nerves. It was hopefully going to be the first time Lukas visited Gabriel, as all other attempts had resulted in him either turning back midway or refusing to go past the gates.

To distract him, Michael slowed his steps until they were walking side by side, then spoke. "After two months away, Danica will be returning in a few days."

"Yes."

"You must be happy."

"Happier than you, I am sure."

Michael looked at him. "I will treat her well."

"I know you will." Lukas glanced at Michael. "You are similar to your brother in that way."

"In what way?"

"Doing what duty demands."

It was not lost on Michael how bittersweet such a realization must have felt for Lukas. On one hand, duty was what kept him and Gabriel apart, and on the other, duty was what was going to ensure his sister lived the rest of her life a part of and protected by the pack she would one day lead by his side.

For Michael, however, he did not know if bittersweet was how he would describe his own feelings over the situation. His father had given him as much time as he could—to heal and to grieve—but that time was nearing its end and he was to be mated to Danica by the upcoming Moonrise in just a few weeks. So, he was not quite sure what he felt as one needed a heart in order to feel heartbroken and his was long gone.

The gates of the burial grounds came into view, but it was not until they stood in front of it that they noticed it was ajar.

Michael swung it open and entered, his eyes immediately drawn to the tiny cloaked intruder kneeling in front of Gabriel's headstone. Although their back was turned to him, one look at the black hooded cloak and he knew it was Zanna.

As he had not seen her since that night, a range of emotions washed over him, propelling him towards her rather than rooting him in place. Lukas trailed behind him as they approached, and when they were half way to her, Zanna turned her head and looked their way. She immediately rose to her feet and turned to face them, the hood of her cloak concealing most of her face.

Lukas protectively grabbed hold of his arm to stop him. "She is a witch."

Michael pulled his gaze from Zanna and looked at Lukas. "She is a friend," he corrected. "Mine and Gabriel's."

Lukas glanced at Zanna then back at him before releasing his arm. "Then I shall leave you with your...friend."

"But—"

"Tomorrow. I will try again tomorrow."

Michael nodded. "Tomorrow."

Lukas looked at Zanna a final time before turning and heading back towards the castle.

"He does not like me, does he?"

Michael turned to face Zanna. "He is not particularly trusting of witches, is all." He walked up to her, his body towering over hers as they stood only a few inches apart.

She reached up and pulled back her hood. Her dark brown eyes looked up and sought out his, a soft smile on her lips. "Have you been well?"

"As well as someone who was nearly stabbed to death can be, I suppose," he joked.

Her smile quickly faded and she lowered her gaze. "I... it was the only way to save everybody. My mother, my coven and countless others, you, and Ellette."

Michael placed his hands on her shoulders. "I know, Zanna. I know."

He still felt slighted over her choice to not let him in on her plan, but he understood why she had not. Making Aria believe she had sided with her was the only way to bring her down. Besides, she had more than made up for it by saving his and Ellette's life in the end.

"How is Moreena?"

"She is alright. She and several leaders are still trying to put out the flames from the fire Aria started. Many covens are still at odds. Some who supported Aria have seen the error of their ways, while others are reluctant to do so. 'Tis truly a mess."

She turned to face Gabriel's headstone, causing Michael's hands to fall before he did the same.

"With all of that going on, why did you come?"

"To say goodbye. To Gabriel and to you."

He looked at her.

"Although divided, the one thing all the covens agree upon is leaving the North."

"Leave? And go where?"

Just like the Fae, the Witches did not have great numbers. Most, if not all, of the covens resided in the North. It had been their home for centuries.

"Anywhere, I suppose. Despite the evil Aria had done, despite all her faults and wrongdoings, what she wanted was not wrong, only the way she went about obtaining it had been."

Michael vividly remembered Aria's rant about wanting a world in which the Witches would not have to be dependent on the Wolves, and the evil things she had confessed to doing in order to create that world. "She wanted power, Zanna. Killed for it and died for it. You cannot be telling me that you wish to carry out her plan—"

"No, Michael." She stepped closer to him. "Of course not. What we want is to find a different way of life. A different way to tap into our magic. The Fae created a new world where they could be free. For us to find our freedom, perhaps we must do the same. Perhaps there is a place out there where we, too, can be free."

All Michael could do was stare down at his best friend and try to make sense of what she had just told him. "When are you leaving?"

"After the next Moonrise."

He smiled, though he was certain she would not be fooled by it. "Long enough to see me married off?"

She returned his smile with one of her own. "Long enough to fulfill my promise to Ellette."

Hearing her name for the first time in two months made his chest tighten. "Promise?"

"To make sure you are okay."

The smile he gave her that time was genuine because of course his little fairy had made Zanna make such a promise. But he was certain she had done so to ensure Zanna remained by Michael's side—a place she could not be.

How devastated would she be to know that was not going to happen?

"And if I tell you that I am not okay? That I will never truly be okay, will you stay?"

Nearly every childhood memory Michael had—especially the ones filled with Gabriel—Zanna was a part of. They were not just the offspring of two best friends, they were family. Raised as such, lived as such, and when times got tough, remained as such. And now, she was one of the few remaining people he loved that the world had not taken from him.

He already knew what her answer would be, and because of that, he slipped his hand into his trouser pocket and retrieved the moonstone she had gifted him years ago. The white stone, always cold to the touch, was half the size of his palm, but it was not until now that he realized how heavy the tiny stone truly was.

Not for him, but for Zanna.

And, because of that, he had to let her go.

He offered it for her to take. "Thank you, Zanna, for everything. We have known each other our entire lives, and throughout that time, you have been everything I needed you to be. My strength. My courage. An ear when I need somebody to listen, and a shoulder when I needed one to lean on. A protector and saviour. A friend. And I cannot say for certain if I have been all of that for you, so, I will return this to you in hopes that you and your people find your freedom."

With tear-filled eyes, Zanna looked down at his hand. She took the moonstone from him before pushing herself into his chest. "You were, Michael. You were all of that. You and Gabriel both."

His arms wrapped around her as she cried, hugging her for one last time.

"You will find your freedom, too. You need only look to find it, need only ask to receive it."

If only it was that simple.

Because he had looked. He had asked. But all he ever found was a face he could only ever see in his dreams.

His freedom was locked behind a door that would never open again.

* * *

Standing alongside the trees lining the edge of the clearing, Michael stared out at the cabin. He had not seen it in months, but it looked just as it had the last time he visited—untouched and uninhabited.

Since the snow had long melted and winter turned to spring, the cabin was surrounded by a field of burnt green and trees scarce with leaves. He had never seen it in any season other than winter, and although it was a pleasant new sight, the contrast between its warm and cozy atmosphere and the muted colours of the dying Woodlands was strong.

So strong that he found himself unable to do anything other than stand at the edge of the clearing and stare at it. Wanting to take it up on its invitation to venture closer, but unable to take even a single step.

When he woke that morning to the sounds of birds chirping outside his window and the warm sun beaming on his face, he thought today might be the day he would make it past the clearing and to the cabin door, but, alas, it was not.

He let out a frustrated sigh.

He was still not ready, and was unsure if there ever would be a day in which he would be.

Michael turned his back to the cabin and started to walk away. When he made it out of the jumble of trees and onto a path, a few of the nearly barren trees lining the path ahead of him began to rustle, stilling him immediately.

He bounced his eyes from one moving tree to the next and quickly realized they were moving of their own accord as there was not even the slightest breeze around to blame.

His lips twisted into a sad smile as tears pricked his eyes.

Ellette's spell still lingered.

But as happy as he was to see the only trace of her still left in his world, he knew it, along with any remaining light still left in the Woodlands, would eventually fade away.

He pulled his eyes away and casted his gaze to the ground. He wanted to look in awe at the spell she had casted for him, and marvel at the only remaining proof she had existed, but was afraid to do so.

What if this time was the last time they rustled? Was it truly something he wanted to witness or ready to see?

But then he heard her voice.

In his mind? In the air? Maybe neither. Maybe both. But he heard it clear as day.

And it forced him to lift his head and stare down the path. To take a deep breath and begin to walk. To accept it was okay to be afraid, but to not allow his fears keep him from putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward. To remember that even if her spell died—whether today or the next day—she would always be with him wherever he went.

'Follow the rustling trees. They will lead you home.'

* * *

A/N: We've finally reached the end of Michael & Ellette's story, and it's such a bittersweet moment for me. I'm happy to have finally given them an end, but super sad to say goodbye to these characters who've been with me since 2014. They entrusted me with their story, and although telling it was more difficult than I ever could've imagined, I'm honoured to have been chosen to share it.

THANK YOU so much to all of you—OG & new readers—who rode along on this super long journey with me. To those who always read, voted & commented, thank you. To those who waited YEARS for this book to come back & showed so much love & support when it did, THANK YOU, and I'm sorry for making you wait so long. I truly appreciate all of you more than you'll ever know.

❤️❤️