The house lights dimmed.

A single spotlight swept across the crowd, igniting a wave of screams as 19,000 people surged to their feet. The huge screen above the stage lit up with the jagged silver logo of Feral Eclipse, claw marks slashing across a rising moon. Fog hissed up from the floor vents. The first low hum of feedback rang out like a warning.

And then—

BOOM.

The drum hit cracked like thunder. The first note of No Chains Left ripped through the air, and the entire arena erupted.

Gabriel stepped into the spotlight, bass slung low, claws gleaming in the stage strobes. His face was locked in pure focus — but behind his icy blue eyes was a storm of memory and defiance. He had been in this building before — up in the nosebleeds, lost in the shadows of rock legends. But tonight?

Tonight, he was the legend.

Cassie’s voice cut through the mix like a blade. Maya and Rico flanked the stage, twin storms of rhythm and power. Jonah lit up the risers with every strike. Thane stood at side-stage, directing cues and fader rides with the calm precision of a general mid-siege. And Mark controlled the rig like a puppeteer, every light pulse synced perfectly to the band’s fury.

The floor was shaking — literally.

The entire lower bowl was howling.

Somewhere in the VIP row, Gabriel’s father stood beaming, clapping in rhythm. His grandparents were visibly stunned, clutching each other and staring in awe.

Gabriel’s mother… looked mildly confused, though distinctly less smug.

Nathan was hunched in his seat, arms crossed — trying not to look impressed.

Too late.

They burned through their set like a wildfire:

  • “Chainbreaker” had the crowd stomping the risers like a war march.
  • “Wolves Run Cold” dropped into a pit breakdown so loud, security guards were headbanging.
  • Cassie paused before “Ashes and Iron” to dedicate it to “anyone who ever had to claw their way out from someone else’s shadow.”

When “Howl With Me” kicked off, the crowd didn’t just scream — they transformed. Thousands of fans raised their arms, voices, and cell phone lights in synchronized fury.

And Gabriel? He owned every inch of that stage.

At the peak of the final chorus, he stepped to the edge, staring directly toward the VIP section. He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to.

He just stood tall, one clawed hand gripping the mic stand, a small grin curling across his lips.

The lights blasted white.

The band dropped the final chord.

And TD Garden lost its collective mind.

Backstage, as the roar still echoed through the tunnels and the arena crew scrambled to reset the barricades for the meet-and-greet, Thane found Gabriel sitting alone just offstage, bathed in the fading glow of the house lights. He looked breathless, wild, proud.

He turned when Thane approached. “Was it as good as I thought it was?”

Thane leaned in, brushing their muzzles together in a soft, private nuzzle.

“You became the roar.”

Gabriel laughed, hoarse and happy. “They saw me, didn’t they?”

Thane nodded. “They saw everything.”