The studio lights dimmed, casting deep red and blue hues across the performance stage. The air buzzed with anticipation — and not just from the studio audience. Livestream views were spiking. Hashtags were climbing. Everyone was waiting to see if the wolves could actually back up the fire they’d just spat in Grayson Thorne’s smug face.

Spoiler: they could.

Backstage, Thane double-checked the signal routing with a quick flick of his claws, nodded to Mark at the lighting board, then gave Gabriel a subtle cue. Gabriel cracked his neck, stepped forward into the spotlight, and slammed into the intro riff of No Chains Left.

The sound was thunderous.

Rico and Maya flanked him with matching guitars, Cassie stepped to the mic like a queen commanding the wind itself, and Jonah — well, Jonah made the entire stage shake. Each drum hit was a sonic warhammer. The audience erupted instantly.

The chorus hit and the fans in the audience — already standing — were singing along. Phones were raised. Chants echoed between camera swoops. Somewhere behind the set, the audio guy from the network actually fist-pumped the air and mouthed, “Holy shit.”

When the bridge dropped into that snarling half-time breakdown, Gabriel stepped forward, tail swaying, claws gripping the mic stand, and stared directly at Grayson Thorne from across the studio.

He didn’t say a word.

He just grinned as the drop hit, and the crowd lost their damn minds.

Cassie’s final scream hit like a blade across a still lake, and the lights went black. Silence. Beat. Then…

Standing ovation.

The kind that didn’t wait for permission. That didn’t follow cues. That just happened, like thunder in a storm.

Cameras kept rolling, and the host was forced — forced — to walk back onto the stage, clapping weakly like someone whose house just got demolished by a wrecking ball he ordered.

Grayson stepped up, fake smile back in place, clearly trying to salvage control of the show.

“Well, there you have it — the high-decibel, emotionally-charged Feral Eclipse. That was…” He glanced at his cue card, then tossed it. “…loud.”

Gabriel leaned into his mic one last time.

“You’re welcome.”

The audience screamed again.

Cassie added, “Don’t worry, Grayson. You’ll grow into your feelings eventually.”

Thane tilted his head slightly and said with quiet finality, “Thanks for the mic. We’ll take it from here.”

And with that, the band walked off the stage under a wave of applause, light flares, and people still cheering “No chains left!” at the top of their lungs.

Backstage, a PA chased after them breathlessly. “Do you guys want your check for this appearance?”

Mark didn’t even break stride. “Mail it to the campfire.”