ã€ŠThe Stolen Claimã€‹


 [Prologue]

    "Stop crying."

    The little girl tried to¡ªreally did¡ªbut she couldn''t help the tears running down her cheeks at the sight of the small hare whimpering, the baited trap''s mouth closed around its paw.

    "Don''t hurt it."

    The boy was older, taller, bigger. Still, when it came to her, he went soft.

    "Fine, I won''t." He got down on his knees and freed the small animal, that set out in the wild snow immediately, his limping paw dragging behind a track. "Now will you stop?"

    She nodded, her small hands running over her cheeks to erase the salty traces left behind.

    "It''s probably going to die anyway with that paw."

    The words brought water to the child''s eyes again and the boy groaned. His arms reached to drag her in a hug, fingers tapping gently the back of her head, stroking the dark hair.

    "But it seemed strong, I''m sure it''ll survive." A lie. Still, the pretence calmed her and she forced a nod against the boy''s coat.

    "Come on," he told her, backing away, taking her hand in his. "Let''s go back, it''s getting dark."

    Dinner had long passed, but the wild had a way of making them forget their hunger. Their parents were long used to their constant getaways, having long ago renounced their quest of keeping them in check. Now that the adventure had come to an end, hunger gnawed at her stomach. She let her brother lead her to their parent''s tipi, where they knew a cold plate awaited them.

    But the panel had been left barely opened, a small mistake allowing the outside world to catch an exchange meant for private hears only.

    The voices spilled from the tent''s entrance¡ªsharp, unusual, menacing. Too loud, too strange. The girl hesitated, her small fingers tightening around his. Her brother had gone still beside her, his body stiff like the frozen ground beneath their feet.

    Inside, their mother''s voice cracked through the night.

    "I''m telling you, something''s wrong with that boy."

    Her father was answering, anger flaring in his voice.

    "What is this about, huh? Because we made a vow to care and love that boy like our own, remember?"

    The girl had never heard him even raise his voice, least of all at their mother. She curled her fingers tighter around her brother''s hand, seeking warmth, reassurance. But he was frozen beside her, his grip like stone.

    She didn''t quite understand, not fully¡ªbut a small part of her did. Enough for something cold to creep into her bones, enough for her breath to hitch, the words settling over her like the weight of fresh snow¡ªcold, heavy, suffocating.

    Was he really her brother?

    "It''s not about that! Sure, we didn''t know we''d be blessed at the time, but it''s got nothing to do with it. He has a beast inside him. I see it in his eyes, passing, eating at him. It''s not normal!"

    She didn''t understand. Her brows knitted, lips parting to ask her brother what their mother meant¡ªbut his grip tightened, turning to iron. His face, usually calm, was pale in the moonlight.

    "Ady, love, can you hear yourself? He''s a child!" A small pause, an imperceptible hesitation. "And there is no beast."

    There was a beat of silence. Then¡ª"There is!" Their mother''s voice was shaking now, rising higher. "And the two of them, they''re just too close, Ed. Rose never leaves his side, glued to him like he''s her goddamn mate. Something''s not right!"

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    She flinched as a strange, twisting feeling pulled at her chest. She didn''t understand all of it, but she understood enough¡ªher name wasn''t supposed to be said like that. With something sour behind it.

    She turned to her brother, expecting him to scoff, to roll his eyes like he did when adults said something stupid. But he didn''t. His lips were pressed together, his gaze dark and far away.

    Their father''s voice was firm, angry now. "Don''t bring Rosie into this. That''s about you regretting to take him in¡ª"

    His fingers crushed hers, making her pulse stammering. Still, he never squeezed too hard, never hurt her. Not even when he was mad. Not even now.

    She tugged on his arm, pressing her cheek against his shoulder, small and unsure. Her voice barely made it past her throat.

    "I''m not hungry." Her stomach betrayed her, growling loudly. They both ignored it. "Let''s go sleep."

    She didn''t want to hear the rest. She didn''t want to know what their mother would say next. And more than anything¡ªshe didn''t want to see whatever was in his eyes right now.

    For once, he let her pull him away.

    This time around, it was her dragging him, to their tent just on the left, casting aside the panels to engulf in the warmth of their place. Two small beds, a fire running, clothes scattered on the ground for lack of tidiness, sugar bars hidden under their pillows for late night snacks.

    "¡ªregretting to take a rogue¡ª"

    The voices faded as the taut leather walls sealed them away from the world.

    She let go of his hand, willing him to move, to breathe¡ªto take control like he always did. He was the one in charge, a steady force she turned to, following suit without a care. It was never the other way around, and the child did not like it one bit.

    When he still didn''t move, she took his hand again and lead him to his bed.

    "She didn''t mean it."

    But the words tasted sour on her tongue. She had never felt such franticness irradiating from her mother, never suffered such loath from her voice. Her brother knew that, too.

    "It''s okay." He finally found his voice again. "You''re right, let''s go to sleep."

    But he was not letting go, and she didn''t want him to. The words had shaken her, she needed familiarity to appease her thrumming pulse and spiralling thoughts.

    "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

    He did not allow it often, always complaining she took all the space in the small bed when he let her. Still, he never refused when she had nightmares, or when she poked at him in the middle of the night, her mind refusing to rest.

    This, however, was different. Because she was also doing it for him. She could see it¡ªthis time around, it was he who needed the warmth more.

    He nodded, and they took off their coats before slipping under the covers, face to face under the flickering light of the dying fire. He closed his eyes and for a few minutes, she thought he was asleep, until his voice made her jump.

    "Stop looking at me, or I''ll kick you out."

    Her eyes fell shut. Her mouth didn''t.

    "Rowan?"

    She let her forehead touch his as he took a frustrated breath. "What?"

    "Is it true," she trailed off, forcing the words out, "that you''re not my real brother?"

    He took her hand under the covers. She opened her eyes to find him already looking and was startled to find something she had never seen in them¡ªfear. Not anger, not frustration¡ªjust fear. And it didn''t belong there. Anxiousness crawled up her spine, making her shiver. It was her job to be scared. His was to protect her, soothe her the against the frightening world. And right now, he was failing.

    "We''ll always be family."

    Not a direct answer, not the one she wanted to hear¡ªbut she read in it what she needed to know.

    "How do you know?" She whispered. How could he remember? The girls had only known a life with him at her side.

    "There''s a voice. Sometimes. It''s not mine, but it knows things. It told me."

    She frowned. He said it like it was normal, like he had already made peace with it.

    He squeezed her hand. "Now sleep."

    The night talk was over. She let her eyelids fall shut again, finding security in the steady warmth of his breath on her skin.

    Because their bond was so much stronger than blood.

    Or at least¡ªit had been. Once.

    Before it was wrecked.

    Before it was marked in flesh that was never meant for him.

    Before fate decided she was never his to begin with.

    <hr>

    This book is a ROMANCE, with HEAT and TENSION. There is a plot, but it is not plot driven.

    Beware of what you get yourself into. The spicy scenes are NOT filtered.

    Also, this is a slow burn. You have to bear with me, because when it unravels¡ªit really fucking does.

    I''m not spoiling you any further. Have a good read.

    TRIGGERS: This book contains scenes and description of sex, unwanted intimate relations, incest and violence.

    Read at your own risks ??

    This story is also posted:

    Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/388065963-the-stolen-claim

    Inkitt: https://www.inkitt.com/stories/fantasy/1429397

 [1] Bound by Blood

    A wolf ran through the forest, each stride heavier than the last, her body dragging under the weight of an open wound. Blood seeped from the gash in her stomach, staining the earth beneath her, but she pressed on, ignoring the searing pain. Breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, strength draining with every pounding step, yet still, she ran¡ªpaws slamming into the forest floor with no care for silence.

    A soft whimper slipped from her throat as the barrier loomed before her. Finally. The end was within reach. Legs buckled, no longer able to hold her weight, and the body crumpled to the ground. Tremors ran through exhausted limbs, blood pooling beneath, thick and warm as stillness settled over her.

    They would find her soon.

    Eyelids fluttered shut, the ache in every muscle making rest a distant dream. More than anything, the promise of sleep beckoned¡ªto let the pain slip away. Heavy lids lifted to the sky above. Not yet. Not here.

    Then came the sound of paws¡ªheavy, purposeful. Wolves closing in.

    Another whimper escaped, weaker this time, a plea meant to guide them to her. Growls rumbled in the night, sharp and distrustful. The blood, the broken form before them¡ªit was still a rogue. A threat.

    A choice.

    With what little strength remained, the injured wolf shifted, knowing full well the pain would be unbearable. Bones snapped, muscles twisted, a body turning against itself as it reshaped. A choked cry broke from trembling lips, the shift stealing what little remained.

    Still, she had to. They needed to see¡ªnot a rogue, not an enemy, but the girl she had once been. They had to understand, or else they would finish what the forest had started.

    Her fingers pressed weakly against the wound, blood slipping between them.

    Please. The word barely left her fragile lips, no stronger than a breath.

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    The wolves hesitated. Growls softened, no longer sure. Stories had been told of monsters, of rogues who killed without mercy. But this? This was no monster.

    Eyes flickered, a silent message passing between them. Yes, contact was being made. Someone with more authority. The decision wasn''t theirs.

    Then, wolves stepped aside, bowing their heads as another moved forward, carrying quiet command.

    A man now, no longer a wolf, loomed above her. Strong arms scooped the fragile body up as though it weighed nothing. Warmth bled into frozen skin, and a shuddering exhale left her lips¡ªhalf relief, half surrender.

    A fate sealed.

    The wolves flanked them as he ran, pace swift, formation protective. The sky blurred, vision flickering in and out of focus.

    A flash of trees. Blood on the earth. A voice, distant and distorted.

    Then¡ªnothing.

    Everything went white.

    For a moment, it seemed as though the fight had been lost. Maybe this was the afterlife. But if it was, why was there so much noise? Her throbbing head pulsed with the clash of voices, metal clattering, distant growls, and an odd, rhythmic beeping.

    Peace. Quiet. That was all she wanted.

    Suddenly, a roar. Deep, guttural, furious. The sound rumbled through the air, swallowing everything else.

    And then¡ªsilence.

    Finally.

    A voice cut through the stillness. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

    Brows tensed at the disturbance. What did it want? Could she?

    Somehow, she did.

    The face of an old man came into focus, his concerned gaze locked onto hers. Rough hands cupped fragile cheeks, grounding her in reality, keeping her from slipping too far.

    Another roar shook the room, but exhaustion held her still.

    "I need you to fight." Urgency laced the old man''s voice. "Keep your wolf awake, even as you sleep. You need its healing force, or you won''t make it."

    Another crash¡ªsomething slamming against a wall. Rage. Fury. The old man didn''t even flinch, focus solely on her.

    "Can you do that?"

    Could she?

    A barely-there nod.

    She never registered the shout that resonated before the darkness pulled her under.

    Somewhere beyond the haze, a shout cut through the air, raw with uncontained fury.

    "Don''t you dare let her die!"

    The words were a snarl, vibrating the very walls. The wolf they belonged to¡ªbarely restrained¡ªstruggled against those holding him back, growls filling the space with pure, unrelenting rage. Trays crashed to the ground. Hands reached to subdue him, but it took more than a few men to drag him from the room.

    The doctor exhaled, shoulders sagging as the chaos settled. A quiet, muttered command followed.

    "Don''t let him see that."

    Fingers reached for a cloth, carefully covering the mating mark scorched into the girl''s skin.

    Right over her heart.

 [2] The Awakening

    Pain. That was the first thing she felt.

    It wasn''t sharp. Not the kind that cuts and leaves behind a scream. No¡ªthis was worse. Deep. Sinking. A slow, crawling burn that settled into her bones and made a home there. Her head throbbed like it had been smashed against stone, her insides twisted, fire spreading through her stomach, curling around her ribs. A wound that had nearly killed her.

    For what felt like hours, there was nothing else. No sounds, no light, no sense of time. Just agony, anchoring her in place.

    Maybe she had died after all.

    But then¡ª beep.

    A single, sharp sound cut through the silence.

    Her mind latched onto it instantly. She wanted to scream, to curse the cruel reality that she was still here. Still alive. And yet, she had never heard anything so infuriating. That beep¡ªit was relentless, over and over, clawing at her sanity.

    A door opened. Muffled voices followed, distant and indecipherable. Her ears pricked, straining to make sense of the sounds, but they remained elusive, distorted. What were they saying?

    Footsteps approached. Hands pressed against her stomach. Pain. White-hot and blinding. If she could move, she would have screamed and thrashed under it. Instead, her body remained locked in its useless prison, unresponsive to her silent suffering.

    Something wet. Again. And again. No scent of antiseptic filled the air. What were they doing? She couldn''t tell. Her thoughts slipped further away, too clouded, too heavy. Then, the voices faded. A door clicked shut.

    The beeping continued.

    <hr>

    A touch on her breast. That''s what pulled her back.

    Nothing had changed. She was still trapped, prisoner to a pain that would not release her. Darkness was a better sentence.

    A stroke of flesh brought her back to her body.

    The claim. Fingers traced the mark, lingering where teeth had sunk to take her.

    The claim. Fingers traced the mark, lingering where teeth had sunk to take her.

    A cocktail of emotions assaulted her at once¡ªdisgust at the ugly scar branding her, hurt at the memory of its making, guilt for leaving him, fear of being caught beneath his teeth again.

    A shudder rippled through her, barely noticeable. Her body betrayed her¡ªtrapped between the instinct to recoil and the helplessness of knowing she once hadn''t.

    Then¡ªas suddenly as it came, it was gone. Cold replaced the absence of it.

    She let herself fall back, back into the dark where pain could not follow.

    <hr>

    When she woke again, she knew something had changed.

    The world was clearer now. Pain still simmered beneath her skin, but it no longer suffocated her. The sterile scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, mingling with something faintly herbal. Medicinal.

    She inhaled. And then¡ªshe opened her eyes.

    The simple act stunned her. After being trapped in darkness for so long, the ease of movement felt wrong¡ªas if she had been freed from invisible restraints.

    So, she had survived. She didn''t know how to feel about that.

    Her gaze wandered, unfiltered, taking in her surroundings. White. Walls, sheets, ceiling, a stark, sterile brightness. To her right, a machine¡ªthe cursed thing that beeped too much. To her left, an empty chair. A door.

    Her fingers twitched. Hesitantly, she lifted a hand to her stomach. No sharp pain, no gut-wrenching agony, just soreness. Her lips never let out the shriek she had braced for. She pulled the sheets away, testing her movements. The soreness remained, but she could move.

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    And then¡ªfootsteps.

    From beyond the door, the faint shuffle of movement. Someone was there. No surprise¡ªshe was a rogue. Of course, they would have her guarded.

    She ignored it.

    Instead, her focus dropped to her stomach and what she saw left her speechless. The wound¡ªalmost healed. Smooth, nearly scarred skin had replaced the gaping, bloody mess she had last remembered.

    Her wolf had done its job well. But even with its healing, she must have been asleep for a long time to recover this much.

    Bare feet met the cold floor. A shudder ran through her at the contrast, but she ignored it. Her gaze flickered down, catching sight of the flimsy hospital gown hanging off her frame. Not great. A quick scan of the room told her there were no other clothes in sight. She sighed. Fine.

    Reaching for the door, she pulled it open.

    Not a surprise¡ªtwo guards, massive men, standing rigid, their presence expected. What she hadn''t expected, however, was their reaction. They stared. First at her, then at each other, then back at her.

    Like they had absolutely no idea what to do.

    "You''re looking at me like I grew a second head." She should not have been amused by the situation, but it was stronger than her. Maybe cheating death had made her bolder.

    The two men exchanged another panicked look. One of them almost greeted her back. His mouth opened¡ªbefore immediately shutting as the other shot him a sharp look.

    A beat of silence followed as she studied them. Her gaze flicked between them. The one who had spoken¡ªtaller, broader, hesitant. The one who had stopped him¡ªsharper, more rigid, clearly the ''in charge'' type.

    Her lips curled slightly. Broad and Stern, then.

    "Are you allowed to talk, or is this a vow-of-silence kind of assignment?"

    Broad''s mouth twitched. Like he was fighting back a smile. Stern just stiffened. Yes, she was definitely keeping the names.

    "I don''t think we''re supposed to¡ª"

    A new voice cut him off.

    "No. You''re most certainly not."

    She turned to the newcomer. Everything about him screamed intimidating and commanding. Where the guards were massive, he was more, authority dripping from him, undeniable¡ªhe owned the space around him. The way the others stiffened at his presence only confirmed it.

    He was handsome, too. Sharp jaw, dirty blond hair, ice-blue eyes that pinned her in place. Had she not been standing in a hospital gown, flanked by two big men who had just been scolded, she might have taken a moment to admire him more.

    He barely glanced at her guards before shifting his ice-blue gaze back to her. She held it.

    "Rosie," she said, offering her hand.

    His gaze flickered¡ªjust for a second. He looked at her hand. And then¡ªhe dismissed it. Didn''t take it. Something about that moment¡ªhis refusal¡ªfelt off.

    "I''m the Beta. Milton." His tone was clipped. "The doctor was held back by the Alpha, but he''ll be here soon."

    Something about the way he said it¡ªtoo smooth, too rehearsed¡ªmade Rosie''s stomach twist. Why did she get the feeling they weren''t telling her everything?

    "You should get back to bed." A command.

    She turned, stepping back into the room. The three men remained at the door, lingering, but none entered. She sat, hands folded in her lap, waiting for the doctor, waiting for the Alpha, waiting for her fate to be decided.

    "Would any of you happen to know how long I was asleep?" She had to at least gather something.

    Milton smiled. It didn''t reach his eyes.

    "Let''s wait for the doctor."

    Before she could reply, another voice cut in.

    "Well, good thing I''m here, then."

    She knew that voice. Her head snapped up just in time to see the old man from before¡ªthe one who had cupped her face, had told her to fight.

    He stepped inside and the Beta followed, shutting the door behind them.

    She extended her hand again. "I''m Rosie." Unlike Milton, he took it. No hesitation, just warmth.

    His lips curled into a small smile. "Well, hello, Rosie. Happy to finally put a name to the face. I''m Doctor Sinclair, but you can call me Clark."

    She liked him better than the prim Beta.

    "I''m guessing you have a lot of questions," Clark said, settling beside her. "So let me answer them." She nodded. "You came to us badly injured. Your wolf did most of the work, but we were able to save you. However, in order to heal properly, your body shut down to conserve energy." He paused, eyes searching hers.

    "You were unconscious for two weeks."

    Two weeks. Rosie processed the words. That wasn''t near long enough for her wolf to pull the kind of miraculous healing she saw on her stomach. Her mind shot back to the wet touch she''d felt while she was under, a sensation she had dismissed as delirium. But what if it wasn''t? What if something¡ªor someone¡ªhad helped her heal?

    Clark continued. "Your wolf worked tirelessly to keep you alive. You may not feel it right away¡ªit''s taking a well-deserved rest."

    An internal scan told her he was right. That... could be a problem.

    "What''s next?" she asked.

    Clark smiled. "Rest."

    But it was not what Rosie was asking. "I meant when I''ll be able to leave."

    Milton''s posture stiffened. A look passed between him and Clark.

    "Hopefully," Milton said carefully, "never. The Alpha has agreed to let you stay."

    Oh. Oh? That was... unexpected. Packs hated rogues. She knew it, she was in a pack once too.

    She quickly dismissed the possibility. Even is she did want to, her presence would only put the pack at risk, a collateral.

    "That''s...," she trailed off, making up her mind as the word tumbled out, "generous," she admitted, before adding, "but I don''t belong in a pack."

    They tensed at the unsaid word. Rogue.

    "I don''t mind leaving," she reassured them. "I''ll be fine on my own." At least, now she wasn''t bleeding to death.

    Milton''s jaw ticked. "You should speak to the Alpha before deciding."

    Again, an order. Rosie was an expert at complying under men of power. It was not submission¡ªit was survival. So, she nodded.

    "Good. The Alpha will see you soon," Milton said, voice careful. Too careful, like he knew something she didn''t.

    Rosie didn''t care. The sooner she faced him, the sooner she could leave. Sitting around wouldn''t change a damn thing.

    She was already on her feet. Clark chuckled.

    "Aren''t you hungry first?" He grinned.

    Her stomach growled.

    "And I''m guessing," he added, "a shower would be much appreciated?"

 [3] The Rogue Among Them

    An hour later, Rosie walked alongside Clark, feeling more like herself than she had in weeks.

    Clean, refreshed, and clothed in a loose, comfortable dress¡ªits fabric adorned with small flowers that had delighted her the moment she saw it¡ªshe almost felt normal. Almost. A quiet, fleeting moment of warmth.

    But it didn''t last. The stares were a good reminder.

    Her recovery impressed her. There was soreness when she moved, and earlier, when she had accidentally knocked her stomach while dressing, a sharp pain had shot through her. But compared to what she had expected, it was nothing short of miraculous.

    Clark led her deeper into the heart of the pack''s territory, her two silent bodyguards trailed close behind¡ªnever far, never relaxed. The Beta had disappeared while she was bathing, and she didn''t regret his absence.

    The pack house was their destination. Food first, then the Alpha.

    Rosie remained quiet, taking in her surroundings without slowing her pace. The pack was structured like a small town, modest cabins scattered around the woods. A large field sprawled in the distance, where werewolves sparred, some in human form, others on four legs. Not far from it stood a small building, children running and laughing in its yard.

    But it was the people that drew Rosie''s attention. They watched her. Not outright hostile, but not friendly either. She felt their eyes on her before she even looked their way. The weight of them¡ªcurious, guarded, assessing. She wasn''t welcome. She wasn''t a guest.

    She was a rogue in their home.

    Clark must have noticed the tension, because his voice broke the silence. "It''s a beautiful pack," he remarked lightly, as if that would distract her from the unspoken wariness surrounding them.

    Rosie''s lips parted slightly, debating a response.

    Her eyes flickered to a woman across the path. The stranger''s gaze was sharp, a quiet, restrained disapproval. Rosie met it without hesitation.

    The woman turned away first.

    Rosie exhaled as tension coiled deep in her stomach. She knew how packs viewed rogues¡ªdidn''t mean it didn''t sting. Still, she forced a small, neutral smile. "It is," she said, her voice even.

    Clark chuckled, oblivious¡ªor pretending to be. "As much as I appreciate the compliment," he said, smiling warmly, "I''m not the one you should be telling."

    She glanced at him, brow arching slightly. His smile held something else now. Amusement.

    Before she could question it, he added, "Save it for the Alpha."

    Rosie offered no answer. Instead, her focus dropped to a little girl standing nearby. She wasn''t staring like the others. Just watching, a hesitant curiousness written in the blinks of her lids. When Rosie met her gaze, the child lifted a hand, a tiny, cautious wave. Rosie hesitated¡ªthen lifted her own. The girl beamed.

    Her mother, standing behind her, yanked her away.

    Rosie''s breath stilled for half a second. Then she exhaled, shifting her focus forward.

    She knew better than to be naive. Packs didn''t like rogues. But perhaps her petite form, her lack of aggression, made her seem harmless enough for them to tolerate. Female rogues weren''t as feared as males, they weren''t as unpredictable or dangerous, just unfortunate things of the wild.

    Maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªher habit of softly greeting anyone who met her gaze helped too.

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    The doctor entered first. Rosie took a deep breath before following, feeling Broad''s presence close behind her.

    Inside, the space surprised her. She had expected something cold, something meant to intimidate. Instead, the common area was lived in. Worn couches, small tables, shelves filled with books and board games.

    The moment she stepped in, conversation stilled. She felt the shift, the way shoulders tensed and glances flickered toward her¡ªbrief, but weighted. The lingering stares that made her itch under her skin. Some of them recovered quickly, a few even offered polite nods. But none of them truly smiled.

    Clark didn''t slow. He steered her toward an open doorway leading into a spacious kitchen.

    The scent of food filled the air. Long wooden dining tables stretched across the room, clearly meant for large gatherings. A boy and two girls sat at one of them. The moment Rosie entered¡ªthey stopped talking. Their expressions didn''t shift to hostility, exactly. But there was a pause. A silent moment of processing, of deciding how to react.

    Her guards lingered near the door. As silent as ever.

    "Welcome to our common kitchen," Clark said with a smile. "Technically, it''s only used by those who live in the pack house."

    "Technically?" Rosie asked, scanning the space. It was charming¡ªwooden cabinets, ample counter space, and even a bar tucked into the back corner. She hadn''t been in a proper kitchen since she was a teenager. The thought left a strange taste in her mouth.

    Clark smirked. "Let''s just say the young ones treat it like their personal hangout¡ªsnacks, drinks, parties."

    He gave her a look that somehow said I was young too, once.

    Rosie didn''t respond. She could feel the three wolves at the table still watching her.

    He then pointed to the tables. "Why don''t you go sit and I''ll bring you something to eat, yes?"

    She nodded, watching as he rummaged through the fridge.

    And then¡ªwithout hesitation, without waiting for an invitation, she walked straight toward the trio at the table. She caught the way they tensed and did all she could to ignored it.

    She extended her hand.

    "Rosie."

    A beat.

    Then¡ªthe redhead took it first. "Sadia." She tilted her head, eyes flickering with curiosity. "That''s Mila," she motioned to the quiet brunette beside her, "and Rafe."

    The boy offered a small nod.

    Sadia''s gaze sharpened. "You''re the rogue," she said bluntly.

    Rosie heard Mila suck in a breath, but Rosie merely raised an eyebrow. Sadia hummed in response, but before she could elaborate, Clark appeared, setting a plate in front of Rosie. A simple sandwich with fresh vegetables.

    "Sorry I didn''t whip up something more extravagant," Clark teased.

    "It''s perfect. Thank you."

    Clark gave an approving nod. "I''ll be bcak, I''ll inform the Alpha we''re coming."

    Rosie nodded, and just like that, he was gone. She took a bite of her sandwich¡ªit was good. Then, she turned back to the others.

    "So," she prompted, "what have you heard?"

    "You shouldn''t worry about it," Rafe said quickly, but Sadia was less inclined to hold back.

    "They say you''re running from some monstrous rogue," she said bluntly, "who literally disemboweled you."

    Mila recoiled at the words.

    Rosie swallowed her bite. The story had spread, then, and the whole pack must have some version of it by now. No surprise there. She had arrived half-dead, and two weeks of rumors would only make the tale wilder.

    She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I wasn''t at my best."

    Sadia leaned in, scrutinizing her. Sadia wasn''t satisfied; she was fishing. "They also say he was your mate."

    Mila groaned. "Sadia!"

    "What? Nothing wrong with a little curiosity."

    Rosie''s mind reeled, blood draining from her face. Sadia smirked, her gaze unnerving Rosie; her fish had risen to the bait. Before she could say another word, a hand landed on Rosie''s shoulder.

    Clark.

    "Sorry I took so long," he said smoothly, but his gaze was locked on Sadia, sharp with silent reprimand. "Are you ready?"

    Rosie didn''t hesitate. She stood, ignoring the half-eaten sandwich, ignoring the way her fingers trembled slightly as she pushed back from the table.

    She walked briskly from the kitchen, Clark falling into step beside her, her guards never far, wordless. She had no idea where she was going, but she needed to move, to shake the word from her mind.

    "I''m terribly sorry about them," Clark said, sighing. "Young wolves tend to lack tact."

    Rosie barely registered his words. She only realized she was walking too fast when Clark cleared his throat, struggling to keep pace.

    She forced herself to slow. "It''s okay. It''s not your fault."

    Clark pursed his lips. "You know," he said carefully, "we''ll have to ask you some questions, too."

    She didn''t respond. They could ask, but she couldn''t promise answers.

    They neared a door. Voices murmured on the other side. Rosie caught the tail end of a conversation.

    "¡ªmay not feel it. Prepare yours¡ª"

    The voice stopped as they reached the threshold.

    Clark placed a hand on the door handle. Her guards took position on either side.

    Then¡ªshe smiled. A small, practiced thing. A survivor''s reflex.

    And just like that, she stepped forward.

    Straight into the lion''s den.

 [4] Big Bad Wolf

    A man rose to his feet from behind his desk as soon as she entered.

    He was tall, broad-shouldered, and exuded authority, even in the simple act of standing. Facing him, Rosie recognized the Beta she''d briefly seen upon waking. Both men scrutinized her intently, their gazes sharp and assessing. She felt as if she were being measured, though she got the impression it had nothing to do with being a rogue.

    It hit her then¡ªwhat she''d forgotten. The man was the Alpha. It had been so long since she''d last interacted with one, the instinctive protocol had momentarily slipped her mind. Without thinking, instincts kicking in, she bowed her head.

    "Don''t bow to me," a deep voice commanded, startling her.

    Rosie''s gaze snapped up, meeting his. His eyes¡ªwere they blue or grey?¡ªfixed on her with something bordering on displeasure.

    Confused as to what to do if not bow, she did the only thing she usually did; she moved forward, extended an unsure hand and offered a thin smile. "Rosie."

    The Alpha hesitated, and for a fleeting second, Rosie was certain she''d only worsened his opinion of her. Her hand lingered in the space between them, awkward and faltering, just shy of retreating¡ªuntil his large, calloused one enveloped hers with a firmness that caught her off guard.

    The scent of the forest clung to him, a crisp blend of pine needles and damp earth, underscored by a deep, woodsy musk that seemed entirely his own. Rosie''s gaze wandered up, tracing the strong lines of his face. His sharp jawline and high cheekbones gave him a striking, almost statuesque handsomeness, but it was his eyes¡ªstormy and grey, like clouds just before a downpour¡ªthat rooted her in place. They held a quiet intensity, piercing yet guarded, as though they saw more than they let on.

    Towering over her, his presence was as commanding as his stature. Rosie knew instinctively that his charisma alone could leave anyone weak in the knees. And though she tried not to, she couldn''t stop herself from wondering about the sheer effect he might have had on her¡ªif she wasn''t already mated.

    Milton cleared his throat, snapping Rosie''s mind back to reality, while her body remained firmly grounded by the Alpha''s hold. His hand was still in hers, she realized, but he was not shaking it, nor was he giving her his name.

    "You''ll have to forgive him," the Beta said lightly, his tone hinting a concealed smile. "It''s not every day someone shakes the Alpha''s hand."

    That seemed to snap the man out of whatever trance he was in. "I''m the Alpha," he said as he finally shook her hand, his grip firm but gentle, "but don''t call me that. Call me Luca."

    Rosie blinked, surprised as he kept his hand in hers. "I will." But she never forced out the name out.

    When he finally let go, something unreadable flashed in his eyes.

    "You can sit," he told her, gesturing toward the chair opposite him before himself resuming his seat behind his desk. Rosie did as she was asked, sitting herself on the chair while the Beta took the seat next to hers. The doctor sat a little more to the back, on a couch. Everyone''s attention was on the Alpha, but his gaze remained firmly locked on her while the room filled with a weird tension Rosie couldn''t quite figure out.

    "I''m very grateful to your pack for taking me in," she began, her voice even despite the unease simmering beneath her skin.

    "But not enough to accept my offer to join," the Alpha ¨C Luca, she corrected herself ¨C interjected, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was a statement, but Rosie thought she could hear a question, too, lurking under it.

    She hesitated. "It''s a very kind offer." Careful. She had no wish to insult an Alpha. "And I would like to accept, but¡ª" His eyes followed the movement of her throat as she swallowed, doing nothing to ease the tightness of her throat. "But surely you''ve heard about the state I was in when I arrived¡ª"

    His attention shot back to her face, his tone cold as he cut in. "I saw it."

    The words struck her like a blow, and she flinched. Rosie was so startled she didn''t register her lips moving until her voice reached her ears. "What¡ª"

    "I didn''t hear about it. I saw it," he repeated, his voice colder now.

    The silence that followed his words was so heavy she almost choked on it. Milton, who never once looked at her since they were sat, his gaze pinned on the man before them as if he was the unpredictable one, tensed on her left. He too sensed an edge to the Alpha''s tone.

    "What he means," the Beta interjected, his voice gentler, casting a warning gaze at the blunt man, "is that you''ve been through enough."

    With Luca facing her, his gaze burning through every layer, Rosie wanted nothing more than to take her legs and run. Something in her stirred with the Alpha''s anger; it reminded her too much of her old life.

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    "Well," she started, forcing a smile, "you know I have to keep on running."

    He sat opposite to her, unfazed as she kept flashing him her compliant poise.

    "No." The flatness of his voice flustered her, her composure wavering. "It''s because I saw your guts spilling out that I want you to stay."

    Rosie''s lips fell downward with his tone, than pursed themselves in a thin disaffected line. The man was blunt, she had to give him that. And completely immune to her usual charms, apparently.

    "Whatever you''re running from, my pack can protect you," he continued.

    She shook her head, annoyed. "That''s just it, it can''t." She let out a sigh. "No one can."

    "If you tell us what happened, we could try," he pressed, leaning forward slightly. "Who did this to you?"

    Rosie hesitated, her mind flashing back to her not-so-enjoyable meeting with Sadia. "I think you already know."

    Behind her, Clark squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, the rustling of his movements loud in her hears. The Beta, however, was unnervingly silent¡ª so still Rosie could scarcely hear his breathing, his utter placidity a stark contrast to the uneasy doctor.

    "Say it." No.

    She wouldn''t. She refused to let his claim poison her mind, his name taint her lips and the mere word sear her tongue.

    But something stopped her. Maybe it was the unspoken plea her ears picked up in his tight voice, the way it had dropped an octave, raw and unguarded. The deep timbre of it reverberated through her, deafening her senses until the certainty settled in her chest.

    He wasn''t asking to hurt her. She was the one hurting herself¡ª letting a claim shackle her, letting a name corrupt her lips, letting a single word brand her tongue. Letting it hold her in its crutches.

    The thing about power was, it conceded nothing without demand. It never had, and it never would. You could take it. Or submit.

    So, she took it. Her tongue curled around the word, protesting the blaze until it rolled from her lips¡ªserved cold as ice.

    "My mate."

    The room flinched in reaction, breaking a stillness Rosie was not ready to leave behind. The air of her arms rose with the sharp chill, as if the warm cinder of his eyes burning to cold ash held the air defenceless against its sudden shift.

    She did not move. She simply watched as the Alpha tensed, his shoulders locking into rigid lines. His fingers curled around the arms of his chair, the wood groaning under the unrelenting grip of calloused hands. A slow breath pushed through his nose, controlled but telling.

    And in that moment, she understood.

    A mate did not harm their other half¡ªnot without a reason that outweighed instinct itself. And for a female to push her mate to such an act? That made her dangerous. Treacherous. Reading the displeasure etched into the Alpha''s features, Rosie knew one thing with certainty.

    He was far from pleased to have such a female on his land¡ªlet alone to have saved her.

    "Well then," he said after a moment, his voice devoid of its earlier warmth.

    Rosie knew what was coming. If she was lucky, he''d let her run. If not, he''d hand her back to her mate. Either way, she''ll be shunned. It was for the best.

    And yet¡ªhis eyes told a different story. The cinder was back, settling on her like a balm. The greyness held no hate, no disgust. Nothing but a sensibility that left her startled.

    Surely she''d read that wrong. Men were not sensible. They were fierce. They took what they wanted, tasted when they craved, bathed in brutality as if spilled blood was fuel, a necessity to their nature.

    "We really can''t let him get to you again, can we?"

    Her brows knitted together. Was he mocking her? But no¡ªhe meant it.

    Had he not heard her? She had done something terrible ¡ªunforgivable¡ª to deserve her mate''s wrath. And yet, he was still speaking of keeping her here, of offering her the protection of his pack.

    "I don''t think you quite understand." The words tumbled out, her voice shaking slightly. "You don''t want me in your pack."

    He didn''t like that. His lips parted, ready to argue, but Rosie cut him off. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, gripping tight, as if the hold could anchor her. "I betrayed my mate," she whispered, the words bitter on her tongue. She didn''t dare look at him when she said it.

    "And you had no reasons?"

    The annoyance in his tone was unmistakable¡ªlike he already knew she would say no and yet refuse to believe it.

    How infuriating.

    With his arrogant self-righteousness and his insufferable stubbornness, he was nothing like the man she had first met. That Alpha, the one who introduced himself with an easy smile, who shook hands as if he were just another man, that Alpha she didn''t mind.

    But this man? She wanted to shut him up.

    She forced herself to inhale, then exhale. Stay in control, Rosie. Squaring her shoulders¡ªignoring the sharp protest of pain in her scarred stomach¡ªshe met his gaze.

    "No good ones," she retorted, rising to the bait.

    "I''ll be the judge of that," he declared firmly.

    Rosie glared at him, anger flaring in her chest. Did he think it his right to grant her absolution? If so, he and his inflated ego would be sorely mistaken.

    "You don''t understand," she snapped. She wanted to scream at him, We don''t have the time for this! "I deserved what he did to me¡ª"

    "You think you deserved to be ripped open?" He cut her off, his voice laced with disgust. His expression had turned dark, his jaw clenching in disapproval as the challenge hung heavy between them.

    Her lips spitted out her guilt before she could stop them, raw and damning. "Yes¡ª"

    "That''s enough," Clark''s voice resonated behind her. When she turned, she found him glancing pointedly at the Alpha. "She''s in no state for more stress. You both need to calm down."

    The edge of tension in Luca''s body seemed to ease, and he leaned back, though his attention never wavered from her.

    "I don''t think you believe that," he murmured, quieter this time¡ªmeasured, as if trying to balance his instincts against her fragile state.

    Rosie wanted to argue, but the weight of his stare silenced her. She was too weary for this fight. "He''ll come for me," she said instead, her voice steady enough to carry the words.

    "Let him try," Milton said. "He won''t make it past our borders."

    The Alpha''s gaze turned steely, his tone cold and resolute.

    "And if he does," he said, his voice a promise, "he''ll find me waiting."

    Rosie swallowed. He meant it. She could see it in the storm-gray of his eyes, in the unshakable weight of his stance.

    And for the first time since she''d arrived, she wasn''t sure if she should be afraid¡ªor relieved.

 [5] Three Moons Grace

    "You''re not letting me go," she whispered, pulse hammering.

    The infuriating Alpha didn''t waver. "I don''t think so, no."

    Her fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms. Fight. Run. But what was the point? He had already decided. And Goddess help her, she felt it in the way he looked at her.

    Like she was his to command.

    How dare he? She should be furious. This was a sentence, not protection. He had trapped her here, leaving her with only one fate¡ªto wait until her mate found her and dragged her back to the life she had bled to escape.

    But instead of terror, instead of disgust¡ª

    Her traitorous body reacted.

    Because he was breathtaking when he took command, when that raw, untamed authority bled from his storm-gray eyes, pinning her in place, jaw clenched like he was barely restraining himself. The room felt smaller, suffocating, and yet¡ªGoddess help her¡ªshe leaned in.

    "Not until I have his head on a spike."

    Rosie''s breath stalled. Something in his tone sent a chill skittering down her spine¡ªa quiet, lethal certainty.

    He wasn''t making a threat. He was making a promise.

    "What¡ª" she started, voice catching.

    But she wasn''t sure she wanted the answer. "I¡ª," she stumbled on her words, too shaken. "I don''t want him dead."

    His eyes narrowed. Hers quivered.

    She should be furious. She should hate this. But her pulse betrayed her, hammering against her ribs, demanding something she refused to name.

    Luca''s jaw tightened. A slow breath pushed through his nose, controlled but telling. "He almost killed you."

    He didn''t move, didn''t lean in, or reach for her. But he didn''t need to. The weight of his gaze alone was enough to make her breath come too fast.

    "You would be dead if not for my pack."

    "It was an accident," she said bitterly. Even now, with everything they''d shared burned to ash, she remained loyal.

    "He never intended to open me up like that." Her voice softened against her will. As much as she hated it, she meant the words.

    Rosie had always been fast ¡ªon her legs, on her paws, through mud as through sand, she flew. And he had never been able to stand it. The tight smile when she outran him, the twitch of his jaw when she glanced back over her shoulder, the rough way he''d take her afterward¡ªhe was not a man who tolerated being bested. And later, he always made sure there was no doubt where the true power resided.

    But running with a torn her stomach was no simple task. He could have forced her into submission a hundred times before she reached the borders.

    He didn''t.

    Because in that moment, he had known¡ªhad he caught her, she would have died in his arms.

    Only, he wanted her back. And alive.

    Luca''s mouth twisted in disbelief. "How can you-"

    "Do you have a mate?"

    She was crossing a line. She knew it.

    But he had pushed her first.

    Luca''s jaw tightened, his shoulders stiffening as if bracing against the pain her words inflicted.

    "Yes," he said, his voice dropping so low it was nearly a growl.

    Rosie latched onto his answer, her gaze locking onto his.

    "Then you understand," she said, urgency threading through her voice. "Why he would never take my life."

    The intensity of his burning gaze shot shivers through her spine.

    "I would never hurt her either."

    Low and raw, a certainty delivered as if the promise was hers to claim. Rosie blinked, startled by the force of his gaze, by the way something unbidden stirred within her. She forced herself to shake it off.

    "But that male doesn''t seem to mind."

    His voice was cold again and the flushed air grazing her skin followed suit.

    "Yes well, mating a rogue isn''t quite the same, is it?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them, an instinctive defense of the male she no longer called hers. "It''s brutal."

    She spat the word, lacing it with all the disgust she had hoarded.

    Luca''s gaze flickered down¡ªto her chest. As if he could see right through the fabric, past flowers and lace, to the savage claim seared right onto the skin of her heart.

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    Gods. He had seen that too.

    She squared her shoulders, refusing to let the Alpha''s intensity unnerve her. Her muscles, already strained from sitting too long, began to protest, but she tried not to show it.

    His expression hardened, his breathing slowed, but his voice remained controlled. "Brutal or not, a mate should never leave scars like that."

    She scoffed through closed lips, the sound barely escaping her. "Don''t mistake me." She closed her eyes, letting out a blow, before plunging into his world again. "I don''t want to go back. I didn''t choose this life." She met his gaze, unflinching. "But I don''t wish him dead."

    The man in front of her remained stoic, his expression unreadable.

    "You''ll have to stay here, then."

    Rosie shifted in her chair, the hard wooden surface pressing against her back in a way that made her wound throb. "Why do you care so much?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

    His grey eyes met hers, unwavering. His voice was low, promising. "We protect our females in this pack."

    Her heart stumbled at the conviction in his tone. "But I''m not one of yours."

    A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

    "You could be."

    Could be part of his pack. Her mind spun. There was something about the way he looked at her¡ªa clearness that made her stomach twist. His wolf believed she belonged here.

    Instinct told her to pull away. But a part of her¡ªthe part that had known no place to call home in years¡ªcouldn''t ignore the sense of safety his words stirred.

    "I won''t let you go until I know your decision was made by your own free will," he continued, "not under fear."

    There was no point arguing further. His mind was made up, and she was too weary to fight him on it.

    Rosie exhaled, relenting, before shifting again, trying to ease the pressure on her aching side. "Don''t underestimate him when he comes. The beast inside him¡ªit''s ruthless."

    Luca didn''t hesitate, his certitude ironclad, unshakable. "A lone wolf won''t ever get to you in my pack."

    Rosie''s lips pressed into a thin line. She shook her head slowly, ignoring the pull in her ribs. "He was alone," she said, her tone edged quietly. "but he''s no lone wolf."

    Luca studied her while Milton picked up on her warning.

    "How long before he comes?"

    Rosie leaned back slightly, her body protesting with every movement. Beads of sweat gathered at her temples, but she ignored them, forcing herself to think. She had been running for weeks¡ªfour, maybe five. Exhaustion and pain blurred the details, but one thing was certain: he would never attack a pack alone. He had gone back. She was sure of it.

    The bond between them had gone quiet. That meant distance. He was already far away.

    She had been unconscious for two weeks. He would''ve needed time to return to their base¡ªthree weeks if she was lucky, two if not. But even then... He''d have to gather his hounds, plan his next move. That would take time. A lot of it. And once he arrived, he wouldn''t attack like some rabid beast. He would wait, study the pack, learn their weaknesses.

    Maybe even try to reach her.

    "Maybe three moons." The words left her on a breath, the effort of speaking draining what little strength she had. A dull ache flared in her stomach, a stark reminder of just how fragile her recovery still was.

    He straightened in his chair, his presence commanding, filling the space between them. "We can do with that," he said, his gaze sweeping over her as if taking her measure. "Was he training you?"

    She tried not to feel insulted. "No."

    "That''ll have to change." His tone left no room for argument. "You''re not strong enough. From now on, you''ll train with me every day at six. Once you''re ready, you''ll join the pack''s training sessions."

    Her body tensed at the prospect. She was fast¡ªthat had always been her one advantage. But fighting? That had never been a necessity. Not until recently. Not until the one person she should have been able to trust had become her greatest threat.

    Clark folded his arms across his chest, his expression thoughtful. "Training is a good idea, but we need to set some boundaries." His gaze shifted to Rosie, then back to Luca. "The skin may be scarring, but the muscle damage in her abdomen was severe. It''ll take time to rebuild strength, and overexertion could reopen internal wounds or strain the healing tissue."

    He turned to Rosie, his tone firm but kind. "You''ll need to start with light exercises. No lifting, no sudden twists, and absolutely no sparring or shifting for now."

    Then, facing Luca again, his voice grew serious. "If you''re overseeing her training, I want to check her to make sure she''s not pushing too hard."

    "Of course." Luca agreed without hesitation, then turned his gaze to Rosie, waiting for her approval.

    She nodded, though the choice wasn''t truly hers to make. Even that small movement sent pain flaring through her abdomen, sharp enough to steal her breath. She winced, pressing a hand instinctively to her stomach.

    He noticed immediately. His sharp eyes narrowed, a flicker of¡ªwell, she didn''t know what¡ª breaking through his stoic stance. "You''re tired," he said, his voice softer now. "That''s enough for today. Get some rest."

    Rosie hesitated, her pride warring with the exhaustion threatening to pull her under. Finally, she gave a small nod and pushed herself to her feet. The room tilted, her legs unsteady beneath her.

    Luca watched, his posture tense, as though preparing to catch her if she fell.

    She didn''t. Grabbing the back of her chair, her feet grounded themselves.

    And just like that, she was dismissed.

    <hr>

    "You''ve got more fire in you than I expected," Clark said with a teasing grin as they climbed yet another flight of stairs. "You had the Alpha bristling."

    Rosie huffed, brushing her hair back from her face, though the motion pulled at her side and made her wince. "I think I started off on the wrong foot with him."

    "Don''t worry about it. He''s got a thicker skin than he lets on," Clark reassured her, his tone warm, easy. "Besides, he likes a challenge."

    Rosie wasn''t so sure. The Alpha''s words lingered in her mind, replaying in echo. You''ll train with me every day at six.

    Sparring with an Alpha sat firmly at the top of her list of things to avoid if she wanted to stay alive. But, if she wanted to survive, training could be more than a threat. It could be a lifeline. She had spent her life submitting. If she wanted that to change, she had to learn how to fight, how to stand her ground.

    At the far end of the hall, Clark stopped before a door and pushed it open, gesturing for her to step inside.

    "This is yours."

    The room was modest but clean. A bed¡ªbigger than any she''d ever had¡ªwas tucked against one wall, a small couch sat in the center, and a narrow window looked out onto the forest beyond. A private bathroom stood at the back. Simple, unremarkable. But to her, it was something more. The first space she''d had to herself in a long time.

    "Thank you," she murmured, exhaustion fraying the edges of her voice.

    Clark leaned against the doorframe, his usual kindness softening his features. "Get some rest. You''ll need it if you''re going to keep up with the Alpha."

    She managed a faint smile before closing the door.

    Alone¡ªwell, kind of. She could hear her two personal dogs standing guard at her door. She ignored them as she could, focusing instead on the smell of cedar and clean linen¡ªa stark contrast to the damp earth that had clung to her for so long.

    Moving stiffly, she crossed to the window. The dense woods stretched endlessly before her, dark and foreboding. The wind rustled through the leaves, a slow whisper against the glass. It sent a shiver up her spine, though she wasn''t cold.

    He would come for her.

    Her hand drifted to her stomach, fingers brushing the faint, jagged scar beneath her clothes. The skin there was different now¡ªthicker, tougher.

    She couldn''t bring herself to hate him, not all of him.

    But she didn''t love him either.

 [6] The Mate She Wont See

    Milton leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a slight smirk on his lips. "That went well," he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. His gaze shifted from the door to Luca, still brooding at his desk. "She''s head over heels for you."

    Luca stood abruptly, his voice cracking as he paced the room, and the beast beneath his skin stirred¡ªsensing her absence, her scent lingering in the air "I can''t believe this is really happening."

    Luca slammed his fist onto the desk. "Fuck. I don''t know how I''m supposed to do this."

    Just as Milton was about to try and lighting his mood, Emlyn stepped in, his keen eyes scanning the room.

    He took one look at Luca and Milton, piecing together the tension in an instant. "I missed it, didn''t I?" Huffing slightly, the Gamma appeared mildly disgruntled. "Why do interesting shit always happen while I''m on patrol?" he grumbled, shaking his head.

    That did earn a faint smile from Luca.

    "Well, how did it go?" Emlyn asked eagerly after missing a beat.

    "Well enough," Milton replied with a shrug. "If you consider riling up your mate a good way to start off."

    Emlyn''s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he turned sharply to Luca. "You didn''t."

    "He did," Milton confirmed, far too amused. "Clark had to step in before they tore each other''s heads off."

    Luca rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply as his nails dug into his palms, a silent reminder of the wolf''s agitation beneath his skin.

    "She wouldn''t stop talking about her mate," he spat, venom dripping from the word. It enraged him. His fingers twitched, itching to curl around something¡ªher wrist, her waist, the curve of her hip¡ªanything to remind her that she belonged elsewhere. His wolf coiled inside him, burning, starving. He shoved his hands through his hair instead, tugging slightly at the roots. "And fuck, she smelled so good and so damn close, and I just¡ª"

    His wolf threw the craving at him like a tidal wave, raw and undeniable. His little mate, beneath his fingertips, her heat against his mouth, her pulse fluttering against his tongue as he tasted the delicate skin at her throat. His teeth grazing, dragging, teasing¡ª

    Luca exhaled sharply, a tremor running through his hands. Fuck. He pressed his fingers against his temples, forcing the vision away, but the hunger still crawled beneath his skin, gnawing at him. "I think I''m losing my mind."

    "No, you''re not." Milton said, his tone softening as he rested a hand on Luca''s shoulder, the gesture intended to be reassuring. "It''s the bond. It''s intense at first. You''ll adjust."

    Luca let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and sharp. "Adjust," he echoed, the word tasting like ash.

    Emlyn stepped closer, his gaze flicking between them. "So she doesn''t feel the bond, then? Just like Clark feared?"

    Milton''s expression grew more serious. "And she''s convinced that other male is her mate."

    Luca kept his expression unreadable, but inside, his wolf stirred¡ªa low growl curling at the edges of his mind. The mention of the other male was like a thorn buried under his skin, festering, demanding to be torn out. His wolf paced, restless, pushing against the walls of his control.

    Emlyn''s voice dragged him back to his office. "How do you know?"

    Luca didn''t lift his head, his voice low and simmering with frustration. "It''s the way she talks about him," he said, his words clipped. "Like she can''t ever wish him dead, no matter what he''s done. Like she''ll always owe him something." His hands fell over his face. Like he''ll always own a piece of her, his mind added bitterly.

    Emlyn glanced toward the door. "Maybe we should wait for Clark¡ª"

    "Speak of the devil," the doctor chimed in, striding into the office. "Don''t worry, our precious Rosie is resting in her room." He turned a sharp look at Luca. "And I wasn''t kidding, Luca. Don''t push her too hard in training tomorrow, or she''ll end up injuring herself."

    "Training, huh?" Emlyn cut in with a raised brow. "Since when are you in charge of training? Should I expect to see you out on the field tomorrow?"

    Milton chuckled as Luca rolled his eyes. "Relax, Em," Milton teased. "Luca''s going to want her all to himself for at least a few weeks. He won''t be breathing down your neck anytime soon." Milton smirked. "Well, not until she joins your practice, that is."

    Luca let out a loud sigh, his gaze snapping upward in irritation. He groaned, rubbing his temples. "If you''re done entertaining yourselves, can we get to the point? Clark, your opinion?"

    The doctor straightened. "Just how I worried." He took a seat across from Luca, his expression grave. "She seems immune to the bond. It complicates things."

    Not possible. His wolf snarled, baring invisible teeth, the need to assert dominance rising like wildfire. She was meant to feel it. She was supposed to know.

    Luca''s jaw tightened as he leaned forward. "But she looked me up. I saw it in her eyes. Something was happening."

    Clark shook his head slowly, his tone measured. "That was not the bond. She finds you attractive. Good. In a sense, you were made to please her. But it''s not the same thing."

    Luca''s nails dug into the armrest, his fingers twitching as his wolf clawed at the surface. His breathing slowed¡ªcontrolled, forced¡ªbut beneath the calm, his muscles tensed, the beast inside him barely restrained. "I just don''t understand. The bond is supposed to be," he trailed off, searching for the right word, "absolute."

    Clark nodded slowly. "It is absolute, but there''s a catch. Rosie''s unresponsiveness to your bond isn''t natural; it''s conditional. From what I can tell, she''s already accepted the claim of this other male, whether consciously or not. In her mind¡ªand therefore her body¡ªthat claim is what she recognizes as the bond."

    Emlyn frowned, leaning closer to the doctor. "But it''s not a true bond, is it? It''s just a claim."

    Clark tilted his head. "Correct. It''s a one-sided act, binding only in the eyes of the one who makes it. But here''s the tricky part: the body responds to what the mind believes. If she thinks that male is her mate, her body will treat his claim as valid, even though the soul bond she has with Luca exists on a deeper level."

    "So, what does that mean for me?" Luca growled, his fists clenching.

    "It means she can''t bear two claims at once. If you want to complete the bond with her, she''ll have to reject the first claim entirely. That''s not just an emotional decision¡ªit''s physical. Her body and mind will need to push that claim out, to sever it completely."

    The words hit like ice water, but it was his wolf that reacted first¡ªa violent, primal rejection burning through his blood. The beast snarled, pressing against the edge of his control, its fury tangible. Claim. Protect. Take.

    Milton leaned back, crossing his arms. "And how does that happen? She''ll just wake up one day and realize the bond was there all along?"

    Clark shook his head. "It''s not that simple. As far as we understand, she''ll likely start feeling the bond with you," he looked pointedly at Luca, "as she begins rejecting the other claim. But we don''t know for sure. It could be gradual¡ªa growing awareness of the connection¡ªor it might hit her all at once when the rejection is complete. There''s no precedent for this¡ªonly theories."

    Emlyn glanced at Luca. "And what if she doesn''t reject it?"

    Luca''s fingers curled against the chair''s armrest, tension rippling through his muscles. Rosie''s look as she first took him in¡ªsoft, wary. He had seen the truth in her eyes then, the absence of recognition, the way she looked at him like a stranger.

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    His wolf snarled, rejecting the memory, rejecting the thought.

    Luca forced his breathing to remain steady, though his wolf snarled against his ribs, pushing, demanding. He curled his fingers into fists beneath the desk, nails biting into skin. No. Not here. Not now.

    Luca swallowed hard, the words thick in his throat. "She has to." But for the first time, the certainty wavered¡ªjust for a second, just enough to make his wolf snarl in warning. "She''s my mate." He exhaled sharply, voice quieter now. "I''ll make her see it."

    Clark''s gaze softened. "You can''t force her, Luca. The bond is built on mutual acceptance. If she doesn''t come to you willingly¡ªif her soul doesn''t recognize you as hers¡ªit won''t work. All you can do is be patient. Show her what it means to have a mate who cherishes her."

    Luca''s wolf bristled. Patient? Hadn''t he been patient enough? Waiting while she lay unconscious, waiting while she avoided his eyes, waiting as she spoke of another male?

    His jaw clenched, frustration coiling beneath his skin, his wolf''s discontent thrumming through his veins, a pulsing reminder of what it wanted.

    And he wouldn''t let anyone else keep what belonged to him.

    "We know she''s yours," Clark said, but Luca could see he was only trying to calm the beast raging in him. "You just have to make her realize it."

    Pain thudded through his chest, and his wolf responded with a low, simmering growl¡ªinstinct curling around him, protective, primal. We will fix this. He exhaled slowly, grounding himself in that steady, relentless certainty. His wolf didn''t understand doubt. Only resolve.

    "There''s something one of the guards mentioned," Emlyn started, changing subject to Luca''s relief. "He just remembered it¡ªit was all so chaotic at the time. Her wolf is white. She must be from up North."

    Milton rubbed his jaw. "I''ve been reaching out to neighboring packs to try and find a lead on her identity. So far, nothing concrete, but I think we should bring her to the next Alpha meeting. Someone might recognize her. Besides, her presence could be useful¡ªshe knows more about rogue ways than we do."

    "Are we sure she was even born in a pack?" Emlyn asked.

    Clark didn''t hesitate. "She must come from a pack. She''s too comfortable with our facilities and customs to have lived her whole life in the wild."

    "And the pack? What do we tell them?" Emlyn pressed.

    "She''s a rogue," Milton started. The word left a bitter taste in Luca''s mouth. His wolf growled, unsettled. No. She was something else now. His. "There''s no changing that, so stick to the story we made. She was taken by rogues when she was young, and now she''s escaped. We''re sheltering her until her family is found, or until she feels safe enough to move on."

    Luca nodded while Emlyn shifted uneasily, his gaze flicking between the men. "The pack will be wary after..." He trailed off, refusing to name it. "You''ll have to address them, Luca. They need to hear you trust her and don''t think she''s a threat."

    "Good point," Luca said with a grim nod. "I''ll talk to the pack tonight. And what about the guards? The ones who know about the bond¡ªhave they kept quiet?"

    "Only a handful know," Emlyn assured him. "They''ve been warned to keep it to themselves. I personally chose two of them to guard her." Luca nodded in approval. "They know the stakes. I''ve also been keeping an eye on rumors since she arrived. So far, nothing''s slipped."

    "Good," Luca breathed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "She can''t find out about the bond from someone else. The only people who need to know are you, your mates, and Briar. No mistakes."

    "Understood," Emlyn replied, his voice firm.

    "And whatever you do," Luca added, his tone darkening, "don''t let my father hear a word of this."

    He burned his gaze in each man, making sure the stakes were clear.

    Only when he was pleased did Luca nod. "Good. You can go, let''s take this a day at a time." As they were turning on their heels, he raised his voice again. "Tell Briar I want to talk to her, will you?"

    The room was quiet now, but his wolf''s presence was loud¡ªa steady, insistent presence in the back of his mind. It ached for her, a dull pain that mirrored his own restlessness. Luca closed his eyes, willing it away, but the wolf remained, a reminder of the bond he couldn''t sever.

    How did he know it was her, when he gave order to save the rogue? Something in him had stirred; he had followed his guts, rushing to meet the rogue at the infirmary. That''s how he found her: bloody and dying, naked on a metal tray, alone in a room of men. Her mate should have been there, at her side, Luca guilted himself over and over. But he hadn''t; he was too uncontrollable to be left with her.

    But now, after those two weeks, he''d thought himself in control again. He had prepared himself, gotten used to the bond. He''d visited her every day while she was unconscious. He''d held her hand, brushed her hair, licked her wounds. He''d engraved in memory that beautiful face of hers, the straight bridge of her delicate nose with its slightly rounded tip, the softness of her lips, so kissable, the fullness of her eyelashes fluttering in her sleep, the diamond shape of her face perfectly fitting in his hands, and the silkiness of her long black hair, draping over her like a cape.

    Luca sank into his chair, running a hand down his face. The memory of her scent lingered in his mind, teasing him. He couldn''t escape it, even if he tried. And worse, he didn''t want to.

    He knew it by heart: eucalyptus, crisp, invigorating, slightly woody; rosemary, a hint of pine, spiciness crowning a robust, herbaceous scent; chamomile, subtle, soft, apple-like floral, with a mild, soothing undertone of hay and fruit; and most predominantly, sage, the slightly smoky and woody rich earthy aroma touched with warmth and dryness.

    So, Luca was prepared. He wasn''t supposed to be so much affected by her, but clearly, he''d underestimated the difference between admiring his sleeping mate and seeing her gorging of life.

    He had never taken in how the subtle rosy blush adorning her cheeks when frustrated would please his wolf, nor how her full lips could gain a natural pink hue when she pinched them, making him want to capture them under his teeth. He hadn''t thought of how every time she took a deep breath, her chest grew fuller, nor how fucking much he would like to see her in a pretty dress and still want to tear it off her.

    The wolf whispered images between his thoughts, pushing them deeper¡ªher parted lips, the taste of her against his tongue, the slow drag of his teeth along the curve of her jaw. Just a taste, that''s all he asked for. Just enough to satisfy the gnawing hunger curling inside him. But he knew the truth. It would never be enough.

    Luca clenched his fists, breath slow and measured, willing his body to ignore the pull. No. Not like this. He wouldn''t lose himself to it. But fuck, the craving was relentless.

    She was everything and too much at the same time. How was he expected to control his primal, burning need for her?

    The door to his office swung open, ripping him away from sinful thoughts.

    Briar stepped inside, her sharp eyes instantly assessing him. As the Alpha''s sister and one of the few who could match Luca''s intensity, Briar was not someone who minced words. She closed the door behind her and crossed her arms, waiting for him to speak first.

    "Briar," Luca started, his tone carefully controlled. "I need your perspective."

    Her brows arched slightly. "On what? The rogue you''ve been brooding over? Or the pack, which is starting to wonder why their Alpha has suddenly gone soft?"

    Luca''s jaw tightened, but he let the jab slide. "The latter," he let out through gritted teeth.

    Briar pinched her lips, considering her words. "Keep the story simple. She''s a survivor, and she''s here under your protection. Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me¡ªor with you, if they''re brave enough."

    A faint smile tugged at Luca''s lips. His sister was fierce.

    "So, will you tell me how it went?" she asked, rising her eyebrows as she studied him.

    He pinched his lips, and it was all Briar needed to understand what had transpired.

    She opened her arms, letting her hands fall with her indignation. "You didn''t tell her."

    He shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes.

    "Luca, you have to tell her!" Briar insisted, stepping closer.

    "No, Bree, I can''t!" he snapped, his fist clenched against the desk. "She thinks she already has a mate, and she doesn''t feel anything with me. I can''t just go and tell her she''s got it all wrong like she''ll believe me," he trailed off, his jaw tightening. "And even if I did, it wouldn''t change anything. We''d still be stuck. She can''t have two claims on her. She needs to choose."

    Briar crossed her arms, her expression softening only slightly. "So, what now?"

    "I wait," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I wait and see if she falls for me."

    Briar arched a brow. "You won''t try anything?"

    "She thinks herself mated," Luca muttered bitterly. "You should have seen her, defending him even after everything he did to her. I can''t just waltz in there and kiss her."

    However much I''d like it, he added to himself silently.

    "She''d feel like she''s betraying her so-called mate, and she already feels guilty enough as it is." He leaned back in his chair, exhaling heavily. "No, I won''t try anything. I''ll keep her close, and it''ll have to be enough."

    Briar shook her head. Her lips pressed into a thin line, though her eyes softened.

    "Start small," she said, giving her unwanted advice anyway. "Earn her trust, step by step. Let her see you for who you are¡ªnot the Alpha, not the bond, but the man. And while you''re doing that, remind the pack why they follow you. They need to see that you''re still their Alpha, no matter what''s happening with her."

    He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as Briar''s words echoed in his mind. The man, not the Alpha.

    For the first time in years, Luca felt uncertain¡ªnot of his strength or his position, but of his ability to win over the one person who mattered most. He didn''t just want Rosie to see him as her mate; he wanted her to choose him, to trust him, to believe in them.

    "That''s not why I asked for you," Luca ended the discussion. "Will you bring her a plate for me?" he asked. "I want her to rest. She''s been through enough stress today."

    Her eyes softened at her brother''s demand. "I will."

    "And would you lend her something to wear?" She couldn''t train in a dress, however much he liked the way it molded to her breasts. Luca shook off the vision. Now was not the time.

    "And tomorrow," he added, not bothering to wait for Briar''s response, "after training, could you show her the grounds? She should start getting familiar with the place."

    Briar nodded as she turned toward the door.

    "And Bree?" He called as she paused at the doorframe. "Don''t make trouble."

    Briar smiled faintly, though she hid it from her brother. "Never."

    She left the room her mind already racing. If Luca wouldn''t make a move, then she''d have no choice but to play matchmaker. A little nudge here, a little push there¡ªwhat were sisters for, after all?

 [7] A Dance with the Cold

    Rosie was freezing.

    The icy wind sliced against her face, biting at her skin like tiny shards of glass. Every breath felt sharp, the mist escaping her lips curling in the frigid air, as if the very atmosphere was cutting through her. The chill seeped deep into her bones, the kind that made her muscles seize with every contraction, and her hair¡ªhastily tucked into a ponytail¡ªoffered no protection for her poor ears, which felt as if they might freeze off with every gust.

    She balled her fists tightly, trying to hide her numb fingers, though it barely helped. Nothing seemed to ease the freezing grip of the cold.

    Whose brilliant idea had it been to go for a run this early in the morning, while the world was still blanketed in fog? Oh right¡ªthat prick of an Alpha.

    And she hadn''t even had proper clothes for this torture. In addition to being dragged out into the cold, the only things she''d found next to her untouched supper upon waking were a pair of skimpy shorts and an even more suggestive sports bra. Shorts! In this weather.

    But what other choice did she have? It was that or her floral dress, and Rosie was not one to ruin pretty things.

    Her new state of undress also had the very annoying result of exposing the marks ¨C claws and teeth - her mate so graciously left her. Rosie found her sole consolation in remembering the young Alpha had already seen it all.

    When she''d stepped outside to meet her trainer, escorted by her two personal guards, she swore she''d tasted a sharp sting of raw appreciation in his gaze before his eyes had rolled skyward, muttering something about how much he was going to kill her.

    Rosie was pretty sure she wasn''t the "her" in question, but she''d hurried after him without a word. Better safe than sorry.

    And yet, she ended up sorry anyway.

    Every step felt like an eternity, her muscles protesting with each stride. Shivers crept up her back, her stomach stretching a little more with each stride. She prayed it would end soon¡ªboredom and fatigue gnawing at her with equal intensity. Weeks of running had worn her down, and she was sick of it.

    But someone insisted the damned exercise was good for her.

    Rosie shot a black glare at her companion, effortlessly jogging beside her. Unlike her, he didn''t seem on the verge of hypothermia.

    While she was chilled to the bone, quivering with every gust of wind, he appeared maddeningly comfortable. He wasn''t even running at full speed, merely matching her slower pace¡ªthanks to her injured stomach¡ªwhich right now felt like an affront.

    It was infuriating.

    She narrowed her eyes. Even running, he carried that casually self-assured composure, his back straight, his head high, scanning the horizon. He moved through the cold air as though the wind parted before him, caressing his skin rather than whipping it. He wasn''t panting like her; each inhale was annoyingly even, unfaltering with every sharp turn or bold leap.

    Did he have to be this flawless?

    Her eyes traveled to his neck, a bead of sweat dripping down his throat, disappearing under his shirt where his chest was rising with every breath. Her gaze traveled lower, lingering on his arms, muscles flexing with each stride¡ª

    Her feet betrayed her, tangling numbly beneath her.

    A sharp cry escaped her as she pitched forward, pain jolting through her ribs¡ªthen warmth steadied her.

    The ground never came.

    His hand. On her waist.

    His touch was unexpectedly solid, grounding her as the world around her seemed to spin. In that instant, the cold and exhaustion faded, and all she could focus on was the feel of his hand on her, his warmth a stark contrast to the icy wind battering them both.

    "Whoa," Luca''s voice cut through the air between breaths, his other hand quickly securing her back to keep her upright. "Are you alright?"

    "Yeah, sorry," she muttered quickly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "It''s just my stomach."

    He narrowed his eyes.

    "Don''t push yourself."

    Rosie nodded, convincing herself her stumble was nothing more than a random mishap. She hated this. She hated running. Most of all, she hated that Luca was still here, poised and unshaken, as though the cold and exhaustion were beneath him.

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    "You can let go now," Rosie muttered, noticing his hand still tight on her waist.

    Luca''s hand fell away instantly.

    "Sorry." His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he spoke again. "Come on," he said. "That''s enough running for today."

    <hr>

    "You''re kidding."

    Rosie stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the scene in front of her. The words slipped out before she could stop them.

    Luca''s lips quirked in a small, knowing smile. "Very serious."

    Rosie was beginning to suspect that the young Alpha wanted her to freeze to death. That would be a convenient solution to the little rogue problem she was.

    "Swimming is an excellent way to work all your body''s muscles without putting any impact on your joints," Luca told her. "It''ll help your recovery."

    Rosie crossed her arms, already shielding her flesh from the cutting water. Before them was a lake, a very freezing lake. The water was still, save for the occasional ripple caused by a breeze or a bird soaring overhead. On the far side, jagged rocks lined the shore, forming a natural barrier that seemed to guard the lake''s peace.

    Her gaze fell to her state of undress. The thought of the walk back, drenched and with the fabric clinging to her body, made her uneasy. At least there wasn''t a lot of it, she thought bitterly, noticing the goosebumps carving the skin of her exposed breasts.

    Somehow, the white marks where her mate had sunk his teeth managed to escape the chill.

    Luca''s gaze followed hers, briefly landing on her chest before he looked back up quickly. "Don''t worry," he said, clearing his throat. "I always leave towels and a change of clothes here."

    Of course. Because how could he not have everything sorted, she grumbled to herself, catching the subtle grin stretching the annoying Alpha''s lips before he strode toward the shore.

    He glanced over his shoulder, gesturing for her to follow. "Come on. I''ll go with you."

    But her feet didn''t budge, eyes still fixed on the tranquil water with wariness.

    "Rosie." Her eyes snapped to him. He''d never said her name before. She would never admit it, but she didn''t hate the way it danced on his tongue. "I promise you''ll survive."

    Her gaze flickered to the water, then back to him. Here I go, she thought, dread curling in her stomach as her feet carried her slowly toward the lake.

    Luca kicked off his shoes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I''ll take that as a yes."

    She muttered something incoherent, trying to distract herself from the cold prickling her skin. But all thoughts of dread fled as Luca began stripping down.

    Her breath caught.

    He pulled off his shirt so easily, like he had not expected the sight might affect her at all.

    It did.

    Broad shoulders and a chest honed from countless hours of training, ridges of muscle shifting effortlessly with every movement¡ªGods, Rosie definitely couldn''t ignore that. The faint scars scattered across his torso stirred an unexpected heat to her stomach, and she immediately averted her gaze.

    Stop staring, she scolded herself. But her eyes betrayed her, darting back against her will, tracing the lines of his taut abdomen. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, catching the morning light.

    Goddess, why was she reacting like this? It wasn''t as if she''d never seen a chest before.

    Sure, he was all muscles¡ªmore than most, maybe¡ªbut plenty of rogues were the same, and they never missed an opportunity to flaunt it. This wasn''t different¡ªat least it wasn''t supposed to be.

    Stop it. He had a mate, for Goddess''s sake.

    Snapping herself out of it, she forced her gaze back to his face, praying he hadn''t noticed.

    No such luck.

    He was staring right at her, searing her skin. Rosie didn''t need to enter the lake to feel as though she''d just received a cold shower.

    She could not for the life of her make out what was going on behind those grey eyes of his. Still, her pulse quickened, and her skin flushed under his scrutiny. He''d caught her¡ªthere was no doubt about it.

    His jaw tightened briefly before he cleared his throat, tension radiating from his shoulders.

    "You coming?" His voice was a touch rougher than usual, mercifully not commenting on her lapse.

    She hesitated, her gaze darting to the water''s surface. It glinted under the grey sky, the deceptive serenity masking the icy bite she knew awaited her. She inhaled deeply, trying to summon courage. Her pride was the only thing keeping her from bolting back to the warmth of the packhouse.

    Luca arched a brow, a teasing glint in his cinder eyes. "You''re not afraid of a little water, are you?"

    Her jaw tightened, and she straightened her shoulders. She slowly took off her shoes, buying herself time before stepping closer to the edge.

    The grin on his face widened. "That''s the spirit." He bent down to roll up the legs of his joggers, his movements fluid and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. The faint smirk on his lips told her he was enjoying this far too much.

    He held out a hand, his expression softening. "Come on. I''ll help you."

    She stared at his outstretched hand, debating whether her pride could handle accepting his assistance. Her fingers twitched at her sides, the cold seeping into her bones making the choice for her. With a sharp exhale, she placed her hand in his.

    The warmth of his touch sent an unexpected jolt through her, and for a brief moment, she forgot all about the cold. His grip was firm as she took a cautious step into the water¡ª

    A strangled yelp escaped her lips, her body recoiling instantly.

    Luca''s laughter rumbled low and deep, wrapping around her like a taunt. "It''s not that bad once you''re in."

    Rosie shot him a glare that could''ve frozen the lake itself. Easy for him to say¡ªthe man was practically boiling, she thought, eying his hand still strongly holding hers.

    Rosie bit back a string of curses as she let the chill enveloped her legs. "You didn''t say it was going to be this cold."

    "You didn''t ask," he replied, his tone maddeningly casual.

    She glared at him, but his smirk didn''t falter.

    They waded further into the lake, the water now lapping at Rosie''s waist, then at her chest. She tried to focus on anything other than the numbness creeping up her body, and the way Luca''s hand never left hers made it too easy.

    "Alright, that''s far enough," he said, stopping abruptly as only the tip of Rosie''s toes could still touch the ground.

    Rosie exhaled in relief, her breath clouding in the crisp morning air.

    "Now," Luca said, releasing her hand and stepping back, "let''s swim. Unless you''d rather stand here and freeze."

    Rosie scowled but took a shaky breath, steeling herself. With a sharp kick, she pushed off.

    The cold water swallowed her whole.

    And she sank.

 [8] Fire and Ice

    A strong arm wrapped around her, yanking her up, and Rosie broke the surface with a desperate gasp. Air burned through her lungs as she coughed violently, water spilling from her lips in ragged heaves.

    Luca''s voice cut through the haze of panic, sharp and unrelenting. "You didn''t think to tell me you couldn''t swim?"

    Still sputtering, Rosie shot him an incredulous look through watery eyes.

    "I thought I could!" she choked out, her voice raw. Then, with a wince, she muttered, "Kind of." Even to her own ears, it sounded ridiculous.

    "Kind of?" Luca echoed, his brow furrowing as his head shook in disbelief.

    She felt the frustration radiating off him, thrumming through the chest pressed against her back. And then, with startling clarity, she realized¡ªhe was trembling. Not just from the exertion of keeping them both afloat, but from something deeper. Anger.

    She had pushed him the day before, crossed boundaries, tested his patience¡ªbut never had she seen him shaken.

    "You either know how to swim, or you don''t," he said, his voice tight, edged with a displeasure she had no defense against.

    Another round of coughs wracked her body, cutting off her retort before it could form.

    Exhausted, she let her head fall against his shoulder, her wet hair clinging to his skin. The fight drained out of her, leaving only ragged breaths and the unsteady rhythm of her heartbeat.

    The water swirled around them as Luca kept them afloat, his legs scissoring beneath them while hers hung limply. He had the strength for two, his grip unwavering, even as the rigid tension in his body began to ebb.

    "My father taught me," she murmured, voice distant, gaze averted. "When I was young."

    Had she dared to meet his eyes, she might have been startled by the warmth lingering there.

    Luca was silent for a beat. His breathing steadied, his hold shifting¡ªnot loosening, but adjusting. Molding her against him. His chest pressed more firmly to her back, the rise and fall of it brushing against her shoulder blades as their bodies moved with the water.

    Finally, he sighed, the sharpness in his voice softening. "Alright."

    Another breath, another pause. Then, low and certain¡ª

    "We''ll just have to make your body remember, then."

    Without waiting for a response, Luca guided her toward shallower water. The cool waves lapped at her chest as they drifted closer to shore, each step bringing a little more stability beneath her feet.

    When they reached a depth where her toes could curl into the lakebed, he slowed. His grip loosened¡ªjust a fraction, lingering for the briefest moment before finally letting go.

    The absence of his touch was immediate, jarring. Even with solid ground beneath her, she felt untethered.

    "Okay." His voice had settled now, steadier. "First, we''ll work on floating. Take a deep breath¡ªbiggest one you can¡ªand lean back."

    Rosie hesitated. Were they really doing this?

    Her heart pounded against her ribs as doubt coiled tight in her chest. There had to be an easier way¡ªsomething safer. Maybe practicing on dry land first? She shot a glance toward the shore, ready to suggest exactly that, but the look on Luca''s face stopped her.

    Firm. Unyielding. But not unkind. There would be no getting out of this. Not until she learned how to move through the water without drowning herself.

    Swallowing against the lump of reluctance in her throat, she inhaled. "Alright." It was barely more than a whisper, meant more for herself than him.

    She dug her toes into the soft, silty bottom, trying to find some last shred of stability before forcing her body to relax. With a shaky breath, she filled her lungs, the tightness in her chest pressing outward as she leaned back.

    The water swallowed her ears in an instant, muting the world, amplifying the hollow rush of her own breath. Instinct screamed at her to fight it¡ªher arms flailed for balance, her muscles stiffened.

    A hand pressed against the small of her back. Steady. Sure. Another cradled the back of her head, tilting her slightly upward.

    "Pull your shoulders back," Luca instructed, his voice slipping through the barrier of sound like a tether. "Bend your knees slightly. You have to keep your body flat, like a plank."

    Heat flared beneath her skin despite the chill of the lake. The third time this man has had his hands on her.

    If Rowan were here, Luca''s head would already be on a spike.

    The thought made her shiver. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the image away, focusing instead on keeping her chest out, on trying to trust the water. Was it working? The pressure of Luca''s hands told her she''d still be sinking without him.

    "Good. That''s better."

    Still, she wasn''t floating. Not really.

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    "When I was learning, I used to imagine a string pulling my belly toward the sky."

    Rosie tried to picture it¡ªan invisible thread tugging at her core, lifting her. The thought was strange. It felt unnatural to expose her scarred stomach like this, her ugly claim laid bare, to let go.

    But for once, she didn''t mind.

    How long had it been since she last swam? A decade, at least. But something about the sensation of water sliding over her body stirred something deep in her memory. She had once loved this. She wanted to feel that again.

    "Good."

    Luca''s voice pulled her from the thought, grounding her.

    She opened her eyes, blinking up at the sky, realizing only now the cool weight of the water pressing against her lower back.

    A breathless laugh escaped her, unsteady but light. "I''m floating." On her own.

    "Yeah, you are."

    His lips quirked, the smallest ghost of a smile, and for the first time, the water didn''t feel like something she had to fight.

    The victory felt small, but it was a start. Time slipped away as Luca guided her through the basics¡ªteaching her how to stay afloat while standing, how to paddle with purpose.

    "Don''t tense up," he''d say, his fingers pressing against the nape of her neck.

    "Relax your arms, let them float," he''d remind her when frustration tightened her muscles. "Like this," he''d murmur, his hands skimming over her forearms, guiding her to make herself light as a feather.

    "Kick your legs," he''d order as she fought against the water. "Just a little," he''d add when she overexerted herself, his grip steadying her, keeping her from exhausting herself too soon.

    "You''re not drowning, Rosie." The reassurance was quiet, firm.

    But beneath his words, she heard something deeper. I will not let you drown. His hands on her waist echoed that promise more than his voice ever could.

    Sometimes, it was Luca''s voice guiding her forward. Other times, it was the familiar warmth of her father''s, still clear in her memory.

    "Trust yourself, Rose," he''d murmur, a whisper from the past that made her breath catch. The memory was so vivid that, for a moment, she almost mistook Luca''s hand on her stomach for the soft, patient touch of her father.

    "Lift your chest a little more, or you''ll sink." She did, and for the first time, she glided through the water with ease, smiling at the sensation.

    For those fleeting moments, she was a child again¡ªsafe in her father''s arms, learning to swim in a world that still felt whole. She missed those days. The days when her greatest worry was not hiding too much in the shadows, not shrinking away from the world around her. She missed the quiet warmth of her mother''s kindness, the unshakable security of her father, the playful complicity of her brother. When had that slipped through her fingers? When had she stopped being their little girl?

    "Keep your head above water, unless you want to swallow the whole lake." Too late¡ªher father''s voice teased in her memory as water filled her throat. She coughed, spluttering, but a grin broke through.

    "You''re getting it, Rose," he would have said.

    "You''re getting it, Rosie."

    Luca''s voice pulled her back to the present.

    Her limbs, once stiff and clumsy from the icy shock, now moved with intent. The cold no longer felt like needles against her skin. The weak flutter of her legs had become a steady, controlled kick, pushing back against the current. Her arms, awkward at first, now cut through the water with purpose, strong and sure.

    And her sinking body was no longer sinking at all. It was moving.

    She looked at Luca then, his face just inches from hers, his gaze steady¡ªfocused. There was a softness to it, a quiet reassurance that steadied her, yet beneath it lay an intensity she couldn''t quite unravel. It made her breath catch, her heart stutter.

    A small, unsteady smile tugged at her lips.

    For the first time in a long time, something felt real.

    <hr>

    By the time they reached the shore, Rosie was trembling so violently that her teeth clattered together, sharp bursts of sound she couldn''t suppress. She swore they might crack under the pressure.

    "Here," Luca said, stepping close and draping a towel around her shoulders with a swiftness that caught her off guard. She hadn''t even noticed him grab it.

    "Thanks," she murmured, pulling the towel tighter around herself. Its rough fabric did little to chase away the cold, but its warmth was still a small comfort.

    He handed her a dry shirt, holding it out without a word. She hesitated for a beat, then took it. Turning her back to him, she pulled the shirt over her head and quickly unclasped her bra from beneath it before slipping it off.

    They started walking, their steps slow and aimless. The only sounds were the squelch of their shoes in the moist earth and the distant lap of water against the rocks.

    Rosie tilted her head up to the sky, squinting against the sun that had finally burned through the lingering morning fog. The warmth in the air felt promising, though it was muted by the clinging cold of her damp hair. She clutched the towel tighter around herself, trying to chase away the lingering chill.

    "You miss them?" Luca''s voice broke the quiet with the kind of suddenness that made her stumble slightly. She blinked, confused for a moment, before her thoughts caught up.

    Her stomach twisted as realization sank in. Oh. Her parents.

    "I miss the memories," she shrugged, forcing a neutral expression. "But they''re strangers now." Her voice wavered, despite her best efforts to sound indifferent.

    Luca fell silent for a beat. She wasn''t sure if he was weighing his words or debating whether to speak them at all. When he finally did, his voice was so soft it nearly blended with the wind. "We could find them for you."

    Rosie''s fingers dug into the fabric of the towel, her knuckles whitening. She shook her head sharply, her hair brushing against her flushed cheeks. "They''re far away," she said, her voice brittle. "It''s better this way."

    Her pace quickened for a moment before she caught herself, slowing down again as she added, "I don''t want them tangled in this mess."

    Her gaze was fixed on the ground ahead, but she could feel Luca''s eyes on her. Still, he didn''t press further, and for that, she was grateful.

    As the silence stretched, Rosie stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He walked beside her with a quiet, assured ease¡ªhis damp hair tousled by the breeze, shirt clinging to his chest in a way that made her quickly avert her gaze. There was something about him¡ªsteady, unyielding¡ªthat unsettled her. He was the type of person who never seemed to lose control.

    She gnawed on her lower lip, debating whether to speak. Letting him carry the weight of the conversation felt unfair, but the words stuck in her throat, hesitant. Finally, she exhaled, forcing them out¡ªsofter than she intended, barely more than a whisper.

    "Are you close to yours?"

    Luca''s steps faltered for the briefest moment, a hiccup in his stride so subtle she might not have noticed if she hadn''t been watching. His jaw tightened, his gaze fixed ahead.

    "My parents?"

    Rosie nodded, her gaze dropping back to the ground again.

    "They''re gone," he said simply after a pause.

    "Oh," Rosie whispered, instantly regretting the question. "I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to¡ª"

    "It''s alright," Luca interrupted, his voice gentler now. "It was years ago. I''ve made my peace with it."

    Rosie wanted to say something, but she knew better. Her parents might not be buried six feet underground, but they were lost to her all the same. Grief could be suppressed, smothered under routine and distraction, but it never truly died. It lingered, quiet and cruel, waiting for the moment to resurface, for the memories to sting¡ªand they always will.

    So peace? There was none¡ªonly the illusion of it.

    For whom was he pretending¡ªhimself or her? It didn''t matter. A lie, even a gentle one, was still a lie.

 [9] Predator and Prey

    "My brother was right."

    The unexpected voice made Rosie jump so violently, she nearly lost her footing, fumbling to locate the source.

    Clutching the towel tighter around her, steam still escaping her naked skin, she froze as her gaze landed on the figure of a woman¡ªwas she sitting on Rosie''s bed? Oh yes, she definitely was. And with an all-too-familiar smugness etched across her face.

    "Who are you?" Rosie blurted before she could think better of it.

    The woman leaned back as if she owned the place, gaze sweeping over the modest comforts of Rosie''s room before settling on her.

    "Briar." The name rolled off her tongue like a lazy challenge. She stretched out further, utterly at ease. "Sister to the infamous Alpha."

    Sister? Gods, she did own the place.

    The warrior¡ªbecause there was no way this woman was anything else¡ªtilted her head, short brown hair skimming over her chiseled shoulders, watching Rosie with the detached amusement of someone assessing an interesting but ultimately unthreatening curiosity.

    Now that Rosie was truly looking, the resemblance was impossible to miss¡ªthe squared jaw, the sharp symmetry of her features, the cool, watchful gleam of storm-grey eyes catching the light. A signature intensity, shared in blood. Even the faint crease near the corners of her eyes hinted at something familiar, a tell that likely only surfaced when a smile stretched their lips.

    "The only one he listens to." Briar added, arching a brow, her lips pressing together in something that wasn''t quite a smirk. "At least for now."

    Rosie didn''t answer. Her gaze flicked toward the door, instincts sharpening.

    Since her arrival, the guards stationed outside had never left their post. Their presence had been a constant, a quiet but undeniable reminder of her place here¡ªwatched, contained, untrusted.

    But now, they were gone.

    Briar hummed, watching the realization settle over her. "I sent them off," she answered, effortlessly reading her silence. "Figured I could handle you myself if you decided to go all rabid on me."

    Briar''s gaze swept over Rosie''s towel-clad form with slow, deliberate scrutiny. Damp strands of hair clung to her shoulders, cascading over the exposed curve of her collarbone before the towel took over, shielding what little it could. In that thin barrier, Rosie found a fleeting sense of comfort¡ªfragile, barely enough.

    Heat crept up her neck under the weight of that appraisal. It wasn''t just curiosity in Briar''s eyes¡ªit was judgment, cool and cutting, the insult unmistakable.

    It took no fool to notice that Briar was, in every way, her opposite.

    Where Rosie was lean, built for quiet endurance rather than brute strength, Briar stood tall and unwavering, every inch of her honed from years of training. Muscle shifted beneath sun-kissed skin, a testament to a life spent fighting, pushing, winning. There was no softness to her¡ªno hesitation in the way she moved, no uncertainty in the way she held herself.

    The warrior spoke her mind with the ease of someone who had never feared the consequences. Rosie, on the other hand, had learned caution early¡ªa lifetime of knowing how to please, when to yield, which battles were worth fighting.

    And yet, despite the stark contrast between them, Rosie couldn''t help but wonder¡ªhadn''t she been taking away, would she have been more like Briar?

    She doubted it. Some people were born with fire in their veins, unshakable even in the worst storms. That had never been her. She had learned to survive in the shadows, to guide with quiet words and unseen influence. Where Briar challenged the world, Rosie had always known when to bend to it.

    No, she wouldn''t have been like Briar. She wasn''t sure she even wanted to be. But Goddess, there were times she wished she had even a fraction of that confidence. That ability to stand without flinching.

    "Heard my brother nearly killed you this morning."

    The sharp voice sliced through Rosie''s thoughts, yanking her back to the present.

    She hesitated, unsure if a response was needed. Briar''s gaze was steady, expectant. There was no room for avoidance. The weight of it pressed against her, heavy enough that she had to fight the instinct to cross her arms, to shrink beneath it.

    Briar didn''t blink, didn''t shift. Just waited.

    Rosie swallowed, her throat dry. "His idea of training apparently involves drowning me," she murmured, the words barely more than a breath.

    But saying it aloud brought it all back¡ªthe burn of water in her lungs, the clawing panic, the helpless thrashing before Luca''s hands had dragged her back to the surface.

    Her voice shook, betraying her.

    Briar watched.

    She was finished with her examination, her piercing gaze settling on Rosie like she had already made up her mind. Her lazy grin faded, and with it went that playful crease. "You needed it. Badly. No offense¡ªbut you''ve got about as much muscle as a half-drowned rabbit."

    Heat crawled up Rosie''s neck, embarrassment flashing into irritation, though her voice retained its natural softness, no matter how hard she tried to sound sharper.

    "Is that what he was right about? My lack of muscle?"

    Briar''s lips twitched, amusement tugging at them. "I guess he was right about that too. But no."

    Her tone dipped, teasing but deliberate. "He said something else about you, you know."

    A deliberate pause, while her lips her lips curled into an offhanded smirk¡ª

    "Pretty."

    Rosie narrowed her eyes, suspicion flickering behind them. Luca had said that? To his sister? The thought felt... unlikely. Implausible.

    She simply could not picture it¡ªLuca, the type to discuss women like this? And definitely not with his sister. There was something in Briar''s tone, something too knowing, too carefully chosen, that felt like a game Rosie didn''t know the rules to.

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    Briar must have caught the doubt shadowing Rosie''s face, because she tilted her head slightly, amusement dancing in the depths of her gaze.

    "You don''t believe me?"

    Rosie opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Briar shrugged.

    "Never mind," she said breezily, already moving past it. "He''ll tell you himself one day."

    Rosie blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the uncomfortable promise hanging between them. But before she could dwell on it, Briar''s gaze flicked to the untouched plate on the coffee table.

    "You didn''t eat."

    The words were casual, almost dismissive, as if she hadn''t just thrown out a remark designed to unsettle and left it hanging in the air.

    Rosie shifted, instinctively cursing the small furrow of her brows before muttering, "I slept through the night."

    Briar hummed¡ªa sound that managed to be both indifferent and mildly disapproving. "That won''t do, of course. Let''s get you dressed and fed. You''re meeting Clark before noon."

    She gestured toward the couch, where a neatly folded dress lay waiting. Rosie''s gaze lingered on it for a moment, then drifted back to Briar, who clearly had no intention of leaving. With a quiet sigh, she grabbed the dress and retreated toward the bathroom.

    She had just wrapped her fingers around the door when something clicked in her mind.

    Pausing, she turned, peering out at Briar. "Were you the one who picked my clothes this morning too?"

    Briar didn''t answer. She didn''t need to. The smug tilt of her lips was confirmation enough.

    Rosie exhaled, eyeing her for a beat longer. The woman was up to something.

    For what purpose, she had yet to figure out.

    <hr>

    "What did he say?"

    Briar''s voice cut through the air the moment Rosie stepped out of Clark''s office.

    She was already on her feet, moving toward the exit, as if staying still for too long was against her nature. Her short brown hair bounced with every step, decisive in their swigs as everything else in her.

    "He wants to check on me again in a few days."

    The question had been more out of politeness than genuine curiosity, but Rosie answered anyway, falling into step beside her.

    Outside, the sun greeted them with a gentle warmth, casting long shadows across the packed dirt paths winding through the heart of the pack''s territory. The scent of pine and earth filled the air, mingling with faint traces of sweat and fur from warriors returning from their border rounds.

    Rosie was quietly pleased to be in a dress again¡ªthis one a soft blue, its delicate straps exposing her shoulders and the upper part of her chest to the afternoon light while sparing her claim. The fabric fluttered against her thighs with every step, catching the breeze.

    She recognized a few of the faces passing by¡ªmostly warriors she had glimpsed the day before. Their expressions ranged from guarded to outright wary. But a few hesitated, their gazes lingering just long enough to acknowledge her presence.

    She met their eyes when she could, offering small nods, quiet greetings. Packs didn''t like rogues as a general rule. If she was going to be here for months, making friends was a better investment than making enemies.

    Briar said nothing, but Rosie could feel the weight of her scrutiny, as constant as ever. She ignored it as best she could.

    "Until then, he said to take it easy."

    A quiet snort curled in her throat. Take it easy. Rosie should tell Luca that¡ªdoctor''s orders. Maybe then he''d stop dragging her into near-death experiences before sunrise. Doubtful.

    The thought alone made her lips twitch, though the idea of actually telling him was almost laughable. He didn''t seem the type to take orders from anyone.

    Least of all her.

    "What''s that smile for?"

    Rosie blinked, quickly schooling her expression. Goddess, this woman never missed a thing.

    "Nothing."

    Briar arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. She tilted her head slightly, gaze sharp and prying, not about to let it go. "Were you thinking about my brother?"

    Rosie recoiled. "What¡ªno."

    But the warmth creeping up her neck told a different story. She felt it creeping up her neck, staining her cheeks against her will.

    Briar''s grin widened, all sharp mischief and knowing amusement. "Oh, you were."

    There was a distinct enjoyment in her voice, like she was savoring a private joke at Rosie''s expense.

    "Well, he''s free, so I won''t discourage you."

    Rosie frowned, turning her head away in a weak attempt to ignore the insinuation¡ªonly for a different thought to take hold.

    "Doesn''t he have a mate?"

    Briar''s expression cooled in an instant. Her gaze snapped to Rosie, sharp and assessing.

    "Where''d you hear that?"

    She hesitated, suddenly aware of how closely Briar was watching her. "Luca." Who else?

    A sharp exhale. Briar''s gaze flicked around, checking their surroundings before her voice dropped, no longer playful¡ªit was a warning, a threat edged in steel. "Luca talks too much."

    Her jaw tensed as she stepped forward, deliberate. The space between them shrank, but it wasn''t intimidation¡ªno, it was something quieter, heavier. She leaned in just enough for the weight of her words to press against Rosie''s skin.

    "Forget he said that. And don''t breathe a word of it. You hear me?"

    A chill curled around Rosie''s spine. No teasing now. No mischief.

    Only command.

    She met Briar''s gaze, searching for something¡ªanything¡ª to explain the sudden shift, but found nothing except unwavering intent. After a beat, she gave a slow nod.

    Briar studied her for a moment longer, unreadable. Then, as if nothing had happened, her lips curved back into that same wolfish tilt.

    "Nothing''s stopping you, if that''s what you''re worried about."

    Rosie''s stomach twisted. "That''s not¡ª"

    "Good." Briar didn''t let her finish. She turned sharply, leading them toward the training grounds as if the matter had already been decided.

    Only, Rosie knew better.

    "Then you won''t mind this."

    The scent of sweat, dirt, and sun-warmed earth thickened in the air, punctuated by the rhythmic thud of fists meeting flesh, the sharp clap of bodies hitting the ground, and the occasional barked command. Warriors moved in disciplined unison¡ªsparring in pairs, sprinting across packed dirt, lifting weights, and running through drills.

    But Rosie barely registered any of it.

    Her eyes knew where to look, her gaze had already found him. If she had thought him attractive this morning¡ªbare-chested and at ease¡ªshe had seen nothing.

    This was different. This was primal. The composed trainer was gone. In his place stood a predator.

    He moved with raw, lethal grace, muscles rippling beneath sweat-slicked skin, each flex and shift a display of coiled power honed to perfection. He was locked in a brutal sparring match with a man Rosie didn''t recognize¡ªor didn''t care to. All that mattered was the way he fought.

    Fluid. Controlled. Relentless.

    There was no hesitation, no wasted movement. Every strike was calculated, designed to overwhelm, to break past defenses with sheer force and precision. He absorbed hits without flinching, countered with devastating speed.

    And Goddess, it suited him.

    Then¡ªLuca''s head snapped up. His gaze locked onto hers, razor-sharp, unyielding.

    Rosie''s breath hitched.

    Her fingers twitched at her sides, heat coiling low in her stomach. The pounding of fists, the scent of sweat and dirt¡ªthe entire world dulled, narrowed. It was just him. Just her¡ª

    A fist drove into Luca''s stomach. A mistake.

    His body folded, breath leaving his lungs in a sharp whoosh. His opponent seized the opening¡ªanother strike, this time to the ribs.

    Rosie caught her lips between teeth, heaviness settling in her abdomen.

    But Luca wasn''t down for long.

    Like a beast provoked, he twisted mid-fall, rolling onto his feet with inhuman speed. A blur of motion. A sound¡ªlow, primal¡ªcurled from his throat. A growl.

    Then, he struck. Faster than she could track, his opponent was slammed onto his back, the force rattling through the packed dirt. Luca''s hand crushed his throat, fingers digging in. A knee drove into his chest, pinning him.

    Dominating.

    The fight was over. Luca knew it. His opponent knew it. But for a second longer, he stayed like that¡ªbreathing hard, shoulders heaving, pulse wild beneath his skin.

    Rosie exhaled, pulse hammering against her ribs. Gods. She had never been this aroused by a display of violence. Had her body suddenly gained a mind of its own? Its reaction was an insult to the Goddess, an awful, sinful¡ª

    Luca''s head snapped up again.

    His lips tilted, something dark and knowing curving at the edges. He had caught her staring. Found her so embarrassingly still locked on him.

    Heat rushed to her cheeks. She tore her gaze away, pulse still thrumming.

    She shouldn''t be looking at him like that. She was mated, for Goddess'' sake.

    What was wrong with her.

    Beside her, Briar was watching, that damned smirk firmly in place, one brow lifted in silent challenge.

    "Not thinking about my brother, huh?" she drawled, amusement thick in her voice.

    Rosie felt the heat spread further to her neck. "I''m not¡ª"

    "Sure. Keep telling yourself that." Briar''s knowing look was impossible to shake.

    She clapped Rosie on the back, steering her forward.

    "Come. I want you to meet Emlyn, the Gamma."

    Rosie barely had time to process before Briar was steering her forward.

    And very much to Rosie''s horror¡ª

    Straight toward the utterly maddening, bare-chested, sweat-drenched, muscle-bound Alpha.

 [10] Where Eyes Linger

    "You outdid yourself, brother."

    Briar''s voice carried a note of dry amusement, but Rosie caught the edge beneath it¡ªsomething cutting, unsaid. The tension in the air thickened, coiling tight like an impending storm.

    Rosie had been careful until now, keeping her head down, knowing better than to trust herself. But she couldn''t avoid this moment any longer. She forced herself to look up.

    Only, he wasn''t looking at her.

    Luca''s sharp gaze was locked on Briar, something silent and dangerous passing between them. A flicker of a challenge. A fight with no words, just the shift of Luca''s jaw and the faint, taunting arch of Briar''s brow. Then, slowly, Luca blinked¡ªa deliberate, measured thing. A warning.

    Briar''s lips twitched. "Don''t look so serious, big brother. You might scare her away."

    Luca didn''t take the bait. Rosie got the feeling he never did when Briar was like this¡ªpoking at wounds for sport.

    And then, finally, his gaze turned to Rosie.

    Unwelcome heat curled low in her stomach at once. She hated how easily he got to her, how a single glance sent her back to that moment¡ªthat mortifying moment when he''d caught her looking at him before, watching from afar, and enjoying it.

    The way his lips had curled in satisfaction. The way she had felt it, fluttering in places she''d long forgotten could flutter.

    A voice cut through the tension, mercifully saving her from herself.

    "It''s because he had some steam to let out."

    The newcomer stepped forward, the murmur of training fading around them. Warriors paused mid-motion, ears tilted their way. Too many high ranks in one place¡ªit always commanded attention.

    Briar rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Em. That wasn''t steam. I thought Luca was one bad punch away from shifting mid-air. That poor Mac never stood a chance."

    Rosie turned to the man¡ªEmlyn.

    He wasn''t as tall as Luca, but just as broad, his presence just as intimidating. Yet where Luca carried an aura of raw dominance, all sharp edges and restrained power, Emlyn was something else entirely. Measured. Calculating. He moved with the ease of someone who was always aware¡ªalways assessing, always three steps ahead.

    She knew who he was before he even spoke. The Gamma.

    The mind behind strategy, the force behind training, the shield between the pack and its enemies. And looking at him now, she had no doubt he was more than capable of all three.

    As if to prove her right, his gaze swept over the field. One glance¡ªthat was all it took for the warriors who had been eavesdropping to snap back into motion, suddenly remembering their training.

    Briar barely seemed to notice, or maybe she just didn''t care. She was still watching Luca, her voice slipping into something teasing¡ªsharp, like the edge of a blade dragged over skin.

    "Actually, he did get one," she mused. "When you were distracted, remember, Luca? That wasn''t like you. I wonder what turned your head like that."

    Rosie tensed.

    Briar''s words always landed like knives¡ªnever quite cutting deep, but close enough to make her skin prickle. Yet neither Luca nor his Gamma so much as blinked. Unbothered. Unmoved. As if they''d long grown immune to Briar''s games.

    Maybe because everyone had already seen where Luca''s attention had gone.

    Or maybe no one wanted to give Briar the satisfaction.

    Her taunt was met with silence, dismissed as beneath acknowledgment. Instead, Emlyn turned to Rosie, his gaze cool, assessing.

    "I don''t believe we''ve been formally introduced." His tone was steady, authoritative, with just enough weight to remind her of his rank. "I am Emlyn, the Gamma."

    He made no move to shake her hand. Just a curt nod¡ªa warrior''s greeting.

    Rosie studied him in turn. Light brown hair catching the afternoon sun, strands shifting with the wind. Hazel eyes, flecked with gold, keen and calculating. There was something about them, about him¡ªsomething that tugged at her memory, just out of reach.

    She pushed the thought aside.

    "Rosie," she answered simply. Then, mirroring his tone, his nod, "The rogue."

    A flicker of amusement ghosted across Emlyn''s face, but his expression remained contained.

    "So I''ve heard."

    Briar hummed, far too pleased with herself. "Oh, don''t act so mysterious, Em. You two have already met. Kind of."

    She wiggled her fingers vaguely, as if that explained anything.

    Emlyn''s expression barely shifted, but something passed through his eyes¡ªa flicker of warning. A silent command. His gaze cut to Briar, sharp and edged, but she only smirked, reveling in the game she was playing.

    Rosie barely registered their exchange.

    Met?

    The word sat wrong, a puzzle piece shoved into the wrong place.

    The truth was, she felt misplaced. Standing among them¡ªwrapped in delicate fabric while they stood in sweat and muscle¡ªshe felt wrong. Like an outsider playing dress-up in a world that didn''t belong to her.

    But Luca''s piercing stare held even more weight on her skin, pressing into her skin with something she refused to name. She didn''t dare meet it. Instead, she latched onto the puzzle in front of her¡ªthe Gamma.

    His voice evoked no memories, but his eyes...she knew those eyes.

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    And then it hit her.

    The cold bite of the forest floor. Fear like ice in her veins. Exhaustion dragging her limbs down, her body sinking, sinking¡ªalmost lifeless. Blood pooling. Darkness closing in. And then¡ªhands. Strong hands, pulling her back from the edge. Saving her.

    Rosie''s breath caught. The realization crashed over her, pulling her under.

    "You saved me."

    Emlyn''s brows lifted, surprise flickering across his otherwise serious expression. It was brief¡ªgone almost as soon as it appeared¡ªbut not before Rosie caught something else beneath it. Not disbelief. Not denial. Something closer to hesitation.

    "I''m surprised you remember." His voice was measured, controlled, but there was an edge to it¡ªsomething uneasy, something reluctant.

    As if he hadn''t wanted her to recall.

    Rosie swallowed. A sense of unease curled in her stomach. "You carried me here. To Clark." The words felt strange on her tongue, distant yet weighted. "Thank you."

    But Emlyn didn''t look pleased. If anything, her gratitude unsettled him. A warrior¡ªa Gamma, no less¡ªshould have been used to it, should have welcomed it. But the way his shoulders tensed, the brief flicker in his gaze, told her otherwise.

    Instead of responding, his eyes cut briefly to Luca. Rosie almost turned to follow his gaze, but caught herself in time, only to be left wanting when Emlyn turned back to her.

    Then Emlyn shook his head, dismissing the moment. "It''s Luca you should thank." His tone was void of expectation, void of pride¡ªjust a simple statement of fact. "I only followed orders."

    And yet, Rosie couldn''t shake the way his gaze lingered on Luca.

    Slowly, she turned. Luca was already watching her. Of course he was. His gaze lingered on the two of them, unreadable yet not empty. There was something there, something just out of reach.

    Displeasure?

    His posture remained rigid, shoulders taut with a tension she couldn''t quite place. But the moment their eyes met, the furrow in his brow smoothed¡ªtoo quickly. As if wiping away a trace of something he hadn''t meant to show.

    Had he truly given that order?

    The same man who had offered her a home, only to force her to stay. The same man who seemed to tense whenever she was near, yet always watched. The same man who had growled at her for sinking beneath the water¡ªthen turned around and taught her to swim with a patience she never would have expected.

    Nothing about Luca fit together. She simply could not follow him.

    And then there was Briar¡ªalways watching, always insinuating.

    Emlyn¡ªalways on guard when he so much as looked at her.

    And the mate. The mysterious mate. The one she couldn''t speak of.

    Too many missing pieces. Too many things that didn''t quite add up. Not yet.

    Now that she was looking, Rosie noticed something else.

    No claim.

    Her gaze swept over Luca, searching for it¡ªfor the undeniable mark of a mate. But there was nothing. No faded imprint, no lingering bond. Nothing.

    How had she missed this? If he''d ever had a mate, there was no trace of her now. She must have died. Or left him.

    Just like Rosie had left hers.

    Her breath caught as her eyes lifted back to his face¡ªonly to realize he wasn''t looking at hers. She couldn''t help but notice something flicker through her as their gazes didn''t lock on each other. Relief, maybe. Deception, possibly.

    Luca''s gaze was drifting lower, tracing her. Not in an obvious way. No lingering smirk, no arrogant once-over. It was subtler than that. Calculated. The way she had just examined him. Memorizing. Committing her to memory.

    Rosie should have been offended. But she had just done the same. Not for the first time, either.

    Her eyes lifted back to his face, and she couldn''t help but notice something flicker through her as their gazes didn''t lock on each other. Relief, maybe. Deception, possibly. But then it dawned on her - he wasn''t looking at her face.

    A strange thought flickered through her mind¡ªone she wasn''t prepared for.

    She hoped he liked the dress.

    The moment stretched too long. And, of course, Briar thrived in moments like these. She exhaled dramatically, shaking her head.

    "Excuse my brother. He hasn''t quite mastered the art of carrying a conversation."

    Rosie tore her eyes from Luca just in time to catch Emlyn rubbing a hand over his jaw¡ªa sure sign of his enduring patience.

    "And you think you''re better suited?" Emlyn muttered under his breath.

    Briar gasped, pressing a hand to her chest as if truly wounded. "Who else? Certainly not you, Em. The only thing you know how to charm is a war strategy. I can''t imagine what Ailey sees in you."

    Emlyn didn''t bother responding. He simply exhaled through his nose¡ªthe tired sigh of a man who had endured Briar''s antics for far too long.

    Luca, still unreadable, finally broke his gaze away from Rosie. He turned to his sister, his expression cool, but the displeasure lingering beneath the surface was impossible to miss.

    "Why are you here, Briar?"

    His voice was calm, but the weight behind it made it clear¡ªhe wasn''t asking about the tour.

    Briar''s smile turned sweet, but there was an underlying tension as she responded, "You asked me to show her the grounds, remember?"

    But that wasn''t what he was really asking.

    Why had she brought Rosie here¡ªinto the center of their training¡ªknowing it would cause a stir?

    She was making trouble.

    Luca let out a slow exhale, frustration flickering across his face before disappearing behind his unshakable exterior. He knew he wouldn''t win this argument. And Briar knew it too.

    Instead, his gaze slid back to Rosie, heavy and deliberate. She braced herself. She knew what was coming¡ªthe same question Clark had asked her that morning.

    "How are you?"

    Such a simple phrase, yet carried too much weight. Rosie loathed it. Loathed how his voice lacked its usual sharpness, loathed the underlying expectation¡ªnot a demand, but something quieter. She should have been used to it by now, should have perfected her response, learned how to deflect without feeling exposed.

    But she hadn''t.

    The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until Briar broke it with a low, knowing hum. Arms crossed, amusement glinting in her eyes, she cast a glance at Luca before settling her gaze back on Rosie¡ªwho, despite herself, tensed in anticipation.

    "He doesn''t usually pay this much attention to anyone," Briar mused with a slight smirk, "I''d take it as a compliment."

    Rosie blinked.

    "I¡ªwhat?"

    "Enough, Briar."

    Luca''s voice was quiet, but it cut through the air, leaving no room for more games.

    The smirk faded from Briar''s lips, but the mischief in her gaze lingered as she took a step back, satisfied. Meanwhile, Rosie swallowed, pulse kicking up as Luca''s stare found her again¡ªsteady, unrelenting.

    Still waiting.

    Her throat felt tight. "I''m fine," she kept her voice even, hoping it would satisfy him.

    It didn''t.

    Luca didn''t blink, didn''t move. But she could see it¡ªthe way his jaw tightened, the slight crease in his brow. He didn''t believe her.

    "What did Clark say?"

    There it was¡ªthat sharp, commanding edge. The voice that demanded answers. She preferred him like this, when he treated her like anybody else.

    "I''m right on track," Rosie managed to choke out, though the words barely made a dent in the suffocating silence.

    Luca''s gaze remained unwavering, his intense stare peering at every layer of her.

    "Good," he said at last, his tone giving no room for argument. "But you need rest as well."

    Rosie exhaled, shaking her head. "I''ve rested." It wasn''t a lie. Not completely.

    The exhaustion gnawing at her ribs? That was a different matter.

    The nightmares at night? She convinced herself they were not real.

    Briar let out a disbelieving snort. "For like, ten minutes."

    Rosie flinched at the accuracy of that statement, but Briar was already moving on, brightening as if she''d just had the best idea in the world.

    "You should take her to the village on your next visit."

    The words were so unexpected that Rosie actually frowned. What village? Why?

    Luca''s reaction was more controlled, but she could tell he was wondering the same thing.

    "Why?"

    Briar lifted a brow, looking at him like he''d missed the obvious.

    "I can''t keep dressing her, Luca. She''s not a doll. She needs clothes of her own."

    Luca didn''t answer right away. His gaze flicked back to Rosie, lingering just long enough for heat to creep up her neck.

    She knew the exact moment he took in her dress for a second time¡ªthe faint glint in his eye, the barely-there shift in his expression.

    He did, in fact, like it.

    For a second, he seemed at war with himself. As if he wouldn''t exactly mind if Briar kept choosing her outfits. Then, with a sharp press of his lips, he made his decision.

    "I''m going in a few days. You can come."

    Briar clapped her hands together, beaming as if she''d been invited too. "Then it''s settled."

    She turned to Rosie with a look that was far too mischievous for comfort, leaning in as if sharing a secret.

    "We''re going to have such a blast together, Rosie."

    Rosie had the strangest sensation that she''d just walked into a trap.

 [11] A Crimson Thread

    "What was that?"

    Rosie whipped her head around, casting a glance back at the training grounds. The warriors hadn''t missed it¡ªthe tension thrumming between Luca, Emlyn, and Briar still clung to the air. She could feel their lingering stares, the way their movements slowed ever so slightly, ears subtly tuned in as they pretended to focus on their drills.

    "What?" Briar''s tone was light, breezy¡ªlike Rosie had asked about the weather. She didn''t even bother looking at her.

    Rosie furrowed her brows. What did she mean, what?

    "The tension," she pressed, frustration creeping into her voice.

    Briar waved a dismissive hand, as if brushing the whole matter aside. "Men."

    Too big an ego, her tone seemed to say¡ªthough it was rich, coming from her.

    Rosie exhaled, exasperated. She wouldn''t get anything else out of Briar. Whatever strange dynamics were at play, she''d have to untangle them herself.

    They walked on, the familiar hum of the pack settling around them¡ªthe rhythmic crunch of boots on dirt paths, the murmur of wolves deep in conversation, the clash of steel from the training field, where weapons were being sharpened. The scent of freshly cut wood mingled with sweat, the air thick with the exertion of those sparring nearby.

    They passed through the market square, where wolves bartered in low voices¡ªbundles of dried herbs, freshly caught game, simple leatherwork and finely woven cloths spread across wooden stalls.

    Rosie shifted tactics. If Briar wouldn''t give her answers about Luca, maybe she''d be more forthcoming about something else.

    "Where''s that village, anyway?"

    Two warriors passed by, their voices low in hushed conversation. One of them glanced her way, before muttering something under his breath. The other followed his gaze, his brows pulling together before he turned away.

    Rogue.

    She could almost hear the unspoken word.

    Rosie kept her stride steady, refusing to acknowledge it. Beside her, Briar remained unfazed, her posture as relaxed and self-assured as ever. If she noticed the whispers¡ªand Rosie was certain she did¡ªshe gave no indication of caring.

    If anything, she moved with even greater ease, as if daring anyone to challenge her¡ªor the company she chose to keep.

    "It''s about a two-hour run," Briar said offhandedly, as if their conversation hadn''t just been interrupted. "Human village. You''ll love it. They have lots of pretty things."

    A subtle jab, but Rosie let it slide. "Two hours by human run, or wolf run?"

    "Wolf, of course." Briar''s smirk was smug, like she already knew the answer that was coming.

    Rosie eyed her, debating whether the logistics were an oversight or an intentional push. "I can''t shift yet."

    A slow, knowing smile spread across Briar''s face. Intentional, then. "No need to worry about that. We''ll figure something out."

    Rosie wasn''t entirely sure she liked the sound of that. "When?"

    "In five days."

    Five days felt like a long time. Rosie hadn''t even been awake for two full days yet, and already, the weight of everything pressed down on her.

    She hadn''t stepped foot in a human village since she was a child¡ªback when her father used to take her along to trade furs. She had liked their ways, how their tiny homes stood snug behind fences, offering an intimacy werewolves never seemed to care for.

    Was it still like that? She supposed she''d find out soon enough¡ªfive days from now, wandering through the market, searching for something of her own to wear.

    The thought made her frown. How would she even know what to pick?

    It had been years since she had chosen her own clothes. She had worn whatever Rowan stole. Whatever was draped over her shoulders, stuffed into her hands. She had never had the luxury of deciding.

    Her gaze dropped to the soft fabric hugging her frame.

    She liked this dress. And the one from yesterday, too. Maybe she simply liked dresses. That would make things easier.

    But something else nagged at her.

    "Where do you even get all these dresses?" she asked, casting a sidelong glance at Briar.

    They couldn''t be hers¡ªthey weren''t anywhere near the same size, something the Alpha''s sister never let her forget.

    Briar hummed, dragging out the moment just long enough to be infuriating. Rosie exhaled sharply, bracing herself for the inevitable runaround that always seemed to come with Briar.

    "That''s Shaina''s doing," Briar finally admitted, her tone breezy. She offered nothing more.

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    Rosie stared. Waited. Of course, with Briar, everything took twice as much effort. Her patience wore thin.

    "Who''s Shaina?"

    Briar''s lips twitched, a spark of amusement flickering in her eyes. Like Rosie had walked right into a carefully laid trap.

    "Oh, just a magician disguised as a seamstress," she mused. "She can turn the ugliest fabric into something worth wearing."

    It was the first time Rosie had heard genuine praise slip from Briar''s sharp tongue.

    Before she could press further, Briar changed the subject without missing a beat.

    "Ah¡ªhere''s the forgery."

    The heat from the blacksmith''s fire wrapped around them before they even reached the entrance, the rhythmic clanging of metal-on-metal ringing through the air.

    Rosie''s gaze flicked across the space, taking in the racks of weapons lined like sentinels against the walls¡ªpolished blades gleaming under the firelight, balanced daggers carefully arranged, bows strung and ready.

    Briar, of course, gravitated immediately toward them.

    She trailed her fingers along the hilt of a sword, barely skimming the metal before turning to Rosie with a considering look.

    "Once you reach that point in training, we''ll get you something." A pause. "Are you more sword, bow, or daggers? Or maybe something heavier, like a hammer?"

    Rosie hesitated.

    "I don''t know."

    Briar scoffed softly, the sound nearly lost in the hum of the forge. "Of course you don''t."

    Rosie inhaled slowly. If things continued at this rate, she''d be an expert at ignoring Briar''s uncalled-for jabs in no time.

    Instead of engaging, she pivoted.

    "So, Shaina¡ªcan I meet her?"

    Briar tilted her head, considering. For a moment, Rosie half-expected another vague, infuriating response. Then, with a smirk, Briar shrugged.

    "I suppose you can. We''re not too far from her now."

    <hr>

    Shaina didn''t resemble the mystical magician Briar had led Rosie to imagine. No flowing robes, no air of arcane mystery. But as Rosie took in the exquisite craftsmanship around her, she realized Briar hadn''t been wrong¡ªShaina''s hands truly worked magic.

    The room breathed with color and texture, each garment a masterpiece of elegance and individuality. A flowing gown of deep emerald silk shimmered under the light, its delicate lace trim whispering of timeless sophistication. Nearby, a patchwork jacket wove together an eclectic mix of patterns¡ªan artful chaos stitched into harmony.

    Bolts of fabric stood in neat rows, waiting to be transformed¡ªlike soldiers poised for duty, awaiting their turn in battle. Rich midnight blue velvet lay beside crisp white linen, their contrast striking, a testament to Shaina''s artistry.

    Rosie let her fingers glide over a bolt of crimson fabric, its surface smooth as water, catching the light like flickering flames.

    "Where do you get your fabrics?" she asked.

    She turned to Shaina, taking in the young seamstress''s striking appearance. Perhaps a few years older than her¡ªlate twenties, maybe. Long, snow-white braids cascaded down her back, the contrast against her deep, midnight-dark skin making them look even more ethereal. Dressed in a vibrant yellow gown, she didn''t fade beneath its brightness¡ªshe glowed.

    "From the village," Shaina replied, a hint of fondness in her voice. "I try to go whenever I can."

    "Oh. Are you coming with us in a few days then?"

    Shaina sighed, shaking her head. "I can''t. My sister''s birthday is that weekend, and there''s too much to do." Then, as if struck by an idea, her eyes lit up. "You should come after, though! We''re having a bonfire¡ªa lot of the younger pack members will be there."

    Her gaze flicked to Briar, who¡ªsurprisingly¡ªnodded without hesitation.

    "We will."

    Rosie glanced between them, surprised by how quickly the decision had been made. "Do you want us to pick up any fabrics for you?"

    Shaina shrugged, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Sure. Just grab whatever catches your eye¡ªI''ll whip up something special for you."

    There was a mischievous glint in her gaze, the kind Rosie recognized all too well. No wonder Briar liked her.

    Rosie blinked at the unexpected offer. "I didn''t mean for me¡ª"

    Briar cut in smoothly, her smile all too knowing. "But that''s the whole reason we''re going, isn''t it? So Shaina can work her magic on you."

    And just like that, it clicked. This wasn''t just about buying clothes. Briar had planned this from the start¡ªshe wasn''t meant to pick outfits. She was meant to pick fabrics.

    Shaina beamed, her confidence unwavering. "Trust me¡ªyou''ll be irresistible. Mark my words."

    A dry sigh slipped from Rosie''s lips. "You two seem to forget I have a mate. I''m not planning on seducing anyone."

    That she was running away from him didn''t change anything. He was still her mate, and she had no intention of offending the Goddess further more than she had already done.

    Briar rolled her eyes, the motion slow and deliberate, dripping with exasperation.

    "Yeah, the mate you left," she said flatly. "Well, he''s not here, is he? But you know who is?"

    Rosie stiffened. She could almost hear the unspoken name lingering in the air, taunting her. She was so going to regret letting Briar pick up on her attraction to Luca.

    "What¡ªare you planning to live like a saint for the rest of your life because of a boy you left?" Briar arched a brow, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to dig beneath Rosie''s skin. "Everybody has needs."

    Heat crept up Rosie''s neck, her stomach twisting as the allusion sank in. Nope. Absolutely not. They were not having this conversation.

    "I''m just saying," Briar added, lifting her hands in mock surrender. "It wouldn''t kill you to have a little fun."

    Rosie opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out.

    Luckily, Shaina took pity on her, clapping her hands together with feigned innocence. "Well, you don''t have to decide anything right now." She flicked a glance at Briar, eyes full of something far too knowing. "But we''ll find something perfect for you. Maybe something that makes a certain someone take notice."

    Rosie groaned, rubbing her temples. If Shaina was less blunt than Briar, she was just as insufferable when it came to meddling in other people''s business.

    Before Rosie could fire back, the shop door creaked open. A gust of crisp, pine-scented air swept inside, rustling the fabric rolls. She didn''t need to turn around to know who it was.

    Silence rippled through the space, spreading like ink in water. She felt Briar''s smirk before she saw it, radiating amusement like heat.

    Luca''s voice was smooth, impassive. "Are you done? I want to take her to Kira."

    Briar, unsurprisingly, didn''t miss a beat. "Why, big brother, you found us fast."

    Rosie swore she heard Luca exhale, but his expression remained as unreadable as ever.

    "Come on," he said, dismissing Briar entirely. "We''re leaving."

    Rosie hesitated for just a fraction too long.

    Briar''s smirk sharpened. Shaina''s eyes gleamed.

    And Rosie¡ªwell, she knew she was caught.

    Damn it.

    Briar''s voice turned silk-smooth, her smirk widening. "Oh, you''re too serious for your own good, Luca. She was just about to pick something pretty."

    Luca''s gaze flicked to Rosie, his eyes dropping¡ªjust briefly¡ªtaking in the fabric still beneath her fingers. A muscle in his jaw ticked. He said nothing.

    Rosie swallowed. She had no idea what he was thinking, and she couldn''t ignore the subtle anxiousness settling in her chest.

    Finally, she grabbed the crimson fabric and turned to Shaina. "This one."

    Shaina''s grin was pure satisfaction. "Good choice."

    Briar hummed, a slow, knowing sound. "Very bold." The unspoken words curled in the air between them¡ªAlmost like you want to be noticed.

    Rosie shot her a sharp look before brushing past, stepping outside into the cool air.

    Luca followed, his silence louder than anything Briar could have said.

    And somehow, that was worse.

 [12] If Disaster Was a Recipe

    This time around, Luca wore a shirt. Thank the Goddess.

    Wet strands clung to his forehead, resisting the wind, the earlier scent of sweat washed away as he led her down the dirt path. But his damp hair¡ªhis presence¡ªdragged her straight back to the morning. To the feel of him, soaked and solid, pulling her against his chest as the water threatened to swallow her whole.

    She swallowed hard and looked away, fixing her gaze ahead, mirroring his stance.

    He hadn''t spoken since they''d left the seamstress''s shop. The quiet settled between them, pressing into her ribs, crawling under her skin.She couldn''t tell if he was mad, merely annoyed, or if she was reading too much into it, and he simply didn''t care.

    If only she could get a glimpse inside his head¡ªthen maybe the tightness in her throat would ease.

    More than anything, she needed to know¡ªhow much had he heard before interrupting?

    Rosie had no problem embarrassing herself on her own¡ªshe didn''t need Briar''s help making it worse. If Briar had dug the grave, Rosie had already picked out the coffin.

    Yet, Luca had sensed it. Even back at the training grounds, he had picked up on whatever game Briar was playing. And something told her he hadn''t wasted a second before pulling her out¡ªbefore Briar could bury her any deeper.

    As if on cue, he cleared his throat.

    "I''m sorry about Briar." His voice was even, measured. But he still wouldn''t look at her.

    Rosie blinked. What exactly was he apologizing for? Dragging her to the training fields? The seamstress? Neither seemed offense-worthy.

    No¡ªshe knew what he meant. He was apologizing for Briar''s matchmaking.

    Which meant he had heard. Everything. Shaina''s promise to make her irresistible. Rosie''s insistence that she wasn''t trying to seduce anyone. And Briar''s not-so-subtle remarks about her unfulfilled needs.

    Rosie would bet her life Briar had known Luca was there all along.

    "It''s fine." The wind carried her whisper, and she hoped he''d take the hint. Drop it. Let her die in peace.

    But Luca wasn''t reading between the lines. Maybe if he looked at her, he''d see that she''d rather be six feet under than be reminded of her so-called ''needs'' with him anywhere near.

    "I asked her to show you around," he said finally, gaze still fixed ahead. "But I should''ve known Briar never does anything without her own agenda."

    Rosie said nothing. It was a strange agenda to have¡ªtrying to match one''s own brother with a rogue.

    No, this had nothing to do with her. This was about the phantom mate.

    Briar probably thought Luca just needed to get over her. Find someone new. No strings attached. And Rosie? She was just convenient.

    She had no intention of touching that dangerous thread. Not even with a ten-foot pole.

    Small cabins passed by as they followed the path, the chant of song thrushes threading through the trees. Each cabin was different¡ªsome newer, some worn with time¡ªbut all were made of wood, blending into the forest as if they had always been there. She could almost picture the families inside. A warm supper on the table. A child spinning in the living room, laughter echoing. Just as she once had.

    Luca mistook her silence for something else. "She can be stubborn when she sets her mind on something," he muttered, filling the quiet. "And noisy. Don''t let it get to you."

    "I won''t," she said. But she already had.

    "Good." He nodded slightly, still not looking at her. "Kira will take care of you for the rest of the afternoon. She''s the Beta female." Milton''s mate, then. "After that, you should rest. It''s been a long day. I''ll have someone bring you dinner."

    Rosie nodded, though she doubted he even noticed, still determined to keep his eyes anywhere but on her.

    The dirt path narrowed, winding into a small clearing. Nestled among the trees, a cabin stood bathed in golden light, its windows flickering with warmth, stretching shades across the clearing.

    And in front of it, standing as still as statues, were her shadows. Broad and Stern.

    Rosie halted before she could stop herself. They were already here? She knew Luca had assigned them to her¡ªwherever she went, they followed. Unless dismissed... just like Briar had done this morning. But how did they always know when to return?

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    A quick glance at Luca confirmed it¡ªhe had given the order.

    If the guards had any reaction to her arrival, they didn''t show it.

    Luca, however, didn''t hesitate. He strode to the door and pushed it open with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before.

    "Kira."

    The Beta female emerged from a door on the left, a wooden spoon in one hand, a knife in the other. The air shifted with the unmistakable¡ªand deeply concerning¡ªsmell of sugar, garlic, and... vinegar?

    Her gaze flicked to her visitors, from Luca to Rosie, her expression sharp, calculating. Assessing. Luca exhaled slowly, as if bracing himself.

    "This is Rosie."

    He shifted slightly, as if the introduction was more for formality than necessity. No doubt Kira already knew who she was¡ªRosie the rogue. But he pressed on, for appearance''s sake.

    "She''s¡ª" A pause. Just a fraction of a second. "New here."

    Rosie resisted the urge to scoff. New here. That was a very polite way of saying rogue trespasser currently undecided about.

    "I thought you might make her feel welcome."

    Kira''s brows lifted, amusement sparking in her eyes. Slowly, her lips curved into something dangerously close to a smirk. Rosie had the distinct feeling Luca was about to deeply regret this request.

    "Oh, I can do that."

    Luca gave a curt nod, looking vaguely relieved¡ªuntil Kira''s smirk widened.

    "Now, off you go."

    Before Rosie could process the words, Kira spun him toward the door, guiding him out with the effortless ease of a woman who had spent a lifetime dismissing men.

    "We don''t need you."

    Luca stiffened. "Kira¡ª"

    The door shut in his face.

    Rosie blinked.

    Her guards did not blink.

    Had she just witnessed the Beta female kicking an Alpha out of his own pack member''s house?

    The decisive woman vanished through the same door she had materialized from, leaving Rosie standing in a stranger''s home, uncertain what to do next. A beat of silence followed before a quiet voice rose from her left.

    "You should go in."

    Broad.

    Rosie''s gaze snapped to him. Had she imagined it? Or had he actually spoken? No time to dwell on it¡ªbehind the door, something clattered, the sound of metal crashing against¡ªwell, she wasn''t sure exactly what¡ª, echoing loudly in the otherwise silent house.

    "Come on," Kira shouted from inside the room.

    Rosie eyed the door warily. Burning. She could smell burning. Goddess help her.

    She stepped inside.

    "I''m making supper," Kira called over her shoulder the moment Rosie appeared in the doorway. "Well, attempting to. Normally, that''s Ailey''s domain, but she''s as big as the moon now. Won''t be long before Emlyn gets payback for all the torture he''s put us through."

    Rosie stepped forward cautiously¡ªinto what could only be described as absolute culinary carnage.

    A pot on the stove boiled furiously, foam teetering on the edge of overflowing. A cutting board lay on the counter, the site of an onion massacre, uneven slices scattered like fallen soldiers. A plate, smeared with something unidentifiable, balanced dangerously on the edge of the sink.

    And in the middle of it all stood Kira¡ªknife in one hand, raw potato in the other, looking deeply unimpressed.

    "I hope he doesn''t get a wink of sleep when the pup arrives. Ailey should, of course. She''s earned it."

    She set to work peeling the potato¡ªor at least, hacking at it like it had personally wronged her.

    "They''re expecting, then?" Rosie asked, eyeing the disaster on the counter warily. At least it was enough of a distraction to keep her from focusing on the knot tightening in her stomach.

    Kira nodded, flicking a half-mangled chunk of potato into the sink. "It''ll do the pack good to have more pups running around. We don''t get many these days. Too many mateless wolves."

    She reached for an onion, grabbed a knife¡ªand held it completely wrong. Rosie frowned, momentarily pulled from the conversation. "Don''t¡ª"

    Kira barely looked up. "What?"

    Rosie exhaled, gingerly prying the knife from her grip and turning it the right way. "Like this."

    Kira huffed. "I hate cooking. Why does it require so much work?" She chopped once¡ªfar too aggressively¡ªsending a piece of onion flying. Rosie tracked its descent to the floor.

    She inhaled slowly. This was going to be a disaster.

    "Why?" she asked instead, trying to focus on something other than Kira butchering the vegetables.

    "Traveling restrictions." Kira grabbed another potato and resumed attacking it. "Ah¡ªfetch me more of these, will you?"

    A sack of potatoes, previously safe at the foot of the cupboard, was now placed on the counter¡ªfar enough away that Kira wouldn''t accidentally send them rolling while she talked.

    "Too many rogue attacks in the last ten years," Kira went on, swiping the back of her wrist across her forehead¡ªunknowingly smearing onion juice in the process. "We had to limit travel outside the packs for safety. They still pass scents around through trade, but it''s not the same. Takes time to find a mate that way. We don''t have agreements with all packs, only the ones along the Southeast border."

    She checked the pot on the stove, grimaced, then grabbed a random handful of salt and tossed it in.

    Rosie was almost certain that was sugar.

    Kira sighed, staring at the mess in front of her like it had personally betrayed her. "Goddess, I have no clue what I''m doing."

    Rosie hesitated. "You could... start by peeling the potatoes."

    Kira waggled her knife in the air with absolute confidence. "Isn''t that what I''m doing?"

    "Not really." Rosie gestured toward the discarded pile of skins. "Then boiling them. That would be a good place to start."

    Kira looked at her like she had just spoken the language of the Gods.

    "Why didn''t you tell me you were a cooking expert?"

    "I''m not¡ª"

    "You''re a lifesaver." Kira clapped her on the back¡ªhard enough to nearly send her into the counter. "If you''re helping, then you''re eating too."

    Rosie stiffened. "Oh, no need. My dinner''s already taken care of."

    She kept her tone light, but the weight of the words lingered. A rogue breaking bread with the Beta couple? Rosie knew her place, and it was not at that table.

    Kira stilled mid-motion, then exhaled sharply. "Oh no, none of that."

    She grabbed another knife and pointed it at Rosie¡ªnot as a threat, but as an absolute declaration. "Life''s too short to be eating alone."

    Kira beamed clearly convinced she''d just delivered a a masterpiece of wisdom. Rosie wasn''t so sure, but she still hesitated. "I''m supposed to rest tonight."

    "Says who?"

    "Luca."

    Kira snorted. "Oh, don''t listen too much to him. He''s so stuck-up sometimes."

    A startled giggle slipped past Rosie''s lips before she could stop it. Did she just say that?

    Kira, unfazed, kept going. "Tell you what¡ªhelp me get this disaster under control, then go rest upstairs. I''ll fetch you when they''re about to arrive. Win-win."

    Rosie wasn''t sure she was winning, but Kira certainly was.

 [13] The Weight of Prejudice

    Luca was the last to arrive, as always.

    Since they had started these weekly suppers, not once had he been on time. Not because he didn''t care¡ªfar from it. It was just that something always managed to hold him back.

    Tonight, it was Brick.

    The old man tended his small plot of crops like they were his own flesh and blood. And like any devoted caretaker, he could talk about them for hours. Literally.

    But listening was important. It always was.

    As Alpha, it was Luca''s duty to ensure his pack was provided for, heard, protected¡ªevery problem addressed. And tonight, Brick''s troubles had been his to bear.

    A swarm of invasive insects had overtaken the old man''s crops, draining him just as much as they drained the land. Brick was losing the battle, pouring every last ounce of energy into fighting off the infestation¡ªonly to watch his hard work be eaten away before his eyes.

    He hadn''t let Luca leave until they found a solution. And they had. Or at least, Luca thought so. Tomorrow, he''d visit the herbologist and see if she could concoct something to drive the insects away.

    None of this excused his lateness, of course. But he liked to think it made the waiting worth it.

    Luca walked fast, trying to make up for lost time. At least Briar had been held back tonight¡ªhe didn''t know why, didn''t care to ask. Frankly, he wouldn''t have put it past her to show up anyway. And if she had? Goddess help him¡ªbecause the sight of her alone would have been enough to set his blood boiling all over again.

    He still could not get over it. She had picked up on Rosie''s attraction far too fast and, like a wolf with fresh prey, had sunk her claws into it¡ªshoving Rosie straight into him.

    Did she think he needed help? That he needed to be pushed?

    It had been two days, for Goddess''s sake. Let the man breathe.

    Maybe Briar simply didn''t understand restraint. Or patience. Had it been her, she''d already be fucking her mate senseless.

    His wolf stirred at the thought, the mere suggestion of claiming what was his drawing a sharp, possessive hunger from deep within. A growl vibrated in his throat, low and unwelcome. No. He wouldn''t let it control him.

    But his wolf had no such hesitation.

    The images hit like a tidal wave, slamming into him with brutal force. No gradual unraveling, no teasing temptation¡ªjust carnal, fucking need.

    The sharp hitch of Rosie''s breath as he pressed her down. Her lips, swollen and parted, voice catching on a moan as his teeth grazed her throat. Mine. The slick heat of her, the way she''d shudder beneath his tongue, his name falling from her lips like a prayer¡ª

    Luca staggered, catching himself against the nearest tree, claws unsheathing before he could stop them.

    Fuck.

    His nostrils flared, pupils blown wide, every muscle in his body drawn so tight he thought he might snap. His own scent thickened the air, the undeniable stench of arousal clinging to his skin. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

    Not like this.

    His wolf snarled at his resistance, prowling beneath his skin, pushing. It didn''t care for patience. For reason. It only knew instinct, and instinct demanded he take.

    Luca forced a breath through gritted teeth. I won''t.

    But the bond was relentless. The scent of her, the memory of her, the undeniable truth that she was his¡ªit gnawed at his control like a beast starving for release.

    He was so not surviving this.

    Because he couldn''t.

    I''m not planing on seducing anybody.

    Her words still echoed in his mind, unwavering. Maybe her eyes lingered when he tore off his shirt, but her heart wasn''t following suit.

    I have a mate.

    That, she did. If only she could feel the bond¡ªthe real one. Not that fraud of a tie her mind had conjured up to uphold some fairytale she was so desperate to believe.

    But as Kira''s cabin finally came into view, his irritation faded just enough for a slow smile to stretch across his lips. Because at least now, he knew. It wasn''t just in his head.

    His little mate did find him to her taste.

    And then he stopped, smile vanishing instantly. The scent hit him like a punch to the gut.

    Sage.

    For half a second, he thought his wolf was playing tricks on him. But no. It was real.

    She was here.

    And that could only mean one thing¡ªshe was dining with them. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for what he knew was to come. The day had drained him, every last ounce already spent. He had nothing left¡ªno patience, no energy.

    And Goddess help him, being around Rosie required a lot of it.

    "Luca!"

    He had no time to prepare himself before Kira dragged him through the just-opened door.

    His eyes found her immediately, as they always did. It was impossible not to look for her. His body sought her out on instinct, as if his bones had been trained to react in her presence. And when she wasn''t there?

    He found himself wishing she was.

    She still wore that blue dress¡ªthe one that exposed her shoulders in a way that made his thoughts drift too easily. The thin straps were laughable, useless things that did nothing to stop his imagination, while the neckline did an excellent job of making sure he didn''t imagine too much.

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    Not that he needed to.

    His mind drifted to the morning, when she had stood before him, dripping wet, the water hugging every inch of her. Her soft breasts, the flatness of her stomach, the long, muscled legs that had surprised him¡ªmaybe the only part of her that had been properly trained in strength.

    He could hate Briar''s antics all he wanted, but he didn''t regret the sight.

    He had touched her stomach, stroked her back, held her against him. There was still so much to discover, and his wolf wanted it now.

    It pushed through him, filling his mind with images¡ªher beneath him, his teeth on her neck, sinking in¡ª

    "Supper is ready, thanks to my helper."

    The vision shattered.

    Beside him, Kira beamed, completely unaware of what she had just interrupted. As if sensing her name, Rosie lifted her head. Her gaze settled on him almost immediately. And for just a moment¡ªbarely even a second¡ª

    She held her breath.

    No more, no less. But still, it meant something.

    Luca had learned that Rosie''s body language was a very subtle thing to read. A lot went on behind those green eyes of hers, but her exterior? It gave away so little.

    Except when she blushed.

    He nodded at her, casual, controlled¡ª as if he hadn''t just been imagining the feel of her shoulder blade beneath his lips.

    Rosie offered a small smile, then quickly looked away.

    Luca swallowed.

    Goddess, acting normal around her took so much of him.

    "She''s good with them," Kira mused, following his line of sight with a knowing smile. "Been entertaining the two since they got back from school."

    Only then did Luca register them. His two godsons.

    He had been too caught up in her¡ª in the way she looked, in the way his mind kept betraying him with the memory of her bare skin beneath his hands¡ª that he hadn''t even noticed the two young pups clinging to his mate.

    Luke was hugging her leg, his tiny arms wrapped tightly around her, his normally boundless energy stilled by the steady weight of her hand resting atop his head. Rosie was talking to him, her other hand curled gently around Mika, who was nestled against her side, looking up at her with pure adoration.

    The three-year-old, in all his innocent entitlement, had claimed full rights to her hair. Tiny fingers threaded through the dark silk, absently playing with the strands as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

    Luca clenched his jaw.

    You knew things were bad when you start getting jealous of a three-year-old.

    "She''ll make a good mother."

    Kira''s voice was light, conversational¡ªbut Luca still felt the weight of it. He nodded, gaze fixed on his mate, his wolf already daydreaming. A future¡ªone where Rosie was his, where his pups clung to her as these two did.

    His. Not very likely to happen. And yet¡ª

    The feeling lingered. That once he disembodied the bastard who had dared to claim her, once she was truly free¡ª

    She might choose to stay.

    Hope. A dangerous, bitter thing.

    Still, here she was. His mate, surrounded by pups. Luca hadn''t expected it. Maybe it was because of how she always seemed on guard, or because she never opened up. She wasn''t much of a talker¡ªquiet, watchful, reserved. So he hadn''t thought she had a soft spot for children. And yet¡ªlook at her now.

    His gaze dropped to her stomach, taking in the strain of holding Mika.

    She didn''t show it. No wince, no sharp intake of breath, but he saw it anyway. The faint tension in her shoulders, the subtle shift as she adjusted the boy, settling his small weight more securely against her hip.

    She was still weak. She shouldn''t be holding him.

    "Did she rest?" His voice came out sharper than he intended, but the thought of her struggling in silence made something inside him bristle.

    Had he had his way, she would be tucked in bed, resting with a simple meal and no responsibilities beyond healing.

    Beside him, Kira hesitated.

    "Yes."

    His gaze snapped to her. That didn''t sound like a ''yes.''

    "Kira," the name rolled off his lips as a warning. Do not lie to me. "What is it?"

    She touched her lips, chewing on the words. He knew that look on her. She was holding something back, minding her words.

    He was tired of people trying to protect him, tired of them shielding him from things they thought would concern him.

    "Not long," she admitted at last. "I don''t think she finds much rest in her sleep."

    Luca sighed. That would pose problem. She couldn''t heal without proper rest. Couldn''t regain her strength like this. The thought of her vulnerability pulled his focus back to her guards. Where were they?

    He cast his senses outward. The others were in the dining room, their familiar presence a steady hum in the back of his mind. But besides those gathered there and the five of them in the living room, he couldn''t detect anyone else nearby.

    His brows knit together. "Her guards?"

    "Dismissed as soon as Milton got back home."

    He barely had time to process before Kira clapped her hands together.

    "Enough lingering. Let''s¡ª"

    The door swung open, letting in a gust of crisp night air.

    The woman who stepped inside was tall, her silver-streaked hair pinned back into a severe knot. Sharp eyes scanned the room, brimming with the confidence of someone who had long outgrown the need to prove herself.

    Kira turned with a bright smile.

    "Ah¡ªMom! Perfect. Mika, Luke! Come, Grandma''s here to take you for the night."

    But her mother¡ªHelen¡ªwasn''t looking at Kira. No, her gaze had frozen¡ªlocked onto the rogue holding her grandsons. The change was immediate. Her entire expression tightened, every muscle in her body going rigid, as if the mere sight of Rosie touching her blood was an offence.

    It was subtle, the way Rosie''s body reacted, but he saw it. The way she withdrew, ever so slightly, her fingers loosening in Luke''s hair. The flicker of hesitation before she lowered Mika gently to the ground, as if already bracing for the moment they would be taken from her.

    Like she knew she didn''t belong. Like she had always known.

    Luca''s stomach twisted. His fingers flexed at his sides before curling into fists, nails biting into his palm. If he moved, just slightly, he could step between them¡ªcut off Kira''s mother''s view entirely.

    Helen hadn''t even spoken a word, but her face said enough. Disgust. Unease. A silent horror, something vile, something that needed to be corrected immediately. Maybe if she knew Rosie was his mate, she would temper her hatred down. No matter, Rosie was his guest¡ªthe Alpha''s guest.

    A cold wave of fury slithered up Luca''s spine. He would demand respect.

    His wolf bristled, claws pressing against his skin, itching to surface. To correct what was so clearly wrong. His mate had done nothing¡ªnothing but be kind, and yet she was the one being cast aside like something unclean.

    His jaw tightened to resist a growl threatening to pass his lips as the woman took a slow step forward.

    "Come here, boys." Her voice was smooth, carefully controlled. But the way her eyes flicked to Rosie¡ªcold and assessing¡ªspoke volumes.

    Luke didn''t move. He pressed closer against Rosie''s leg, his little fingers curling around the fabric of her dress. He looked at his grandmother, then back at Rosie. Torn.

    Kira''s mother noticed. Her lips pressed together. "Now, Luke." The child hesitated, glancing back and forth. Mika was as unsure, following his big brother with every decision.

    That was when Luca had enough.

    His gaze snapped to Kira''s mother, sharp and deliberate, a silent command woven into the look.

    Enough.

    Where the shift should have been immediate, Helen hesitated under his silent warning¡ªundermining his authority.

    That wouldn''t do.

    Luca took a single step forward¡ªnot aggressive, not challenging, just a deliberate shift in position. A quiet reminder of where she stands. It took only a second for Helen to freeze. Her posture changed¡ªstill stiff, but the open hostility dimmed under his silent warning.

    Luca was the Alpha.

    And even if she thought herself above a rogue, she was not above him.

    Slowly, her gaze flicked away from Rosie. A flicker of something passed over her face, frustration or reluctance, but she swallowed it down and forced a tight smile. "Come," she repeated, gentler this time. "We''ll have a great time at Grandma''s while we let Mom rest a bit."

    This time, the boys obeyed, slipping from Rosie''s grasp and shuffling toward his grandmother. Helen took Mika''s hand, then Luke''s, her fingers curling around their small wrists. But just before she turned toward the door, she hesitated. A flicker of something passed over her face¡ªnot quite disgust anymore, not quite caution. Something colder. Final.

    Her gaze met Rosie''s, just for a breath. Then, without a word, she was gone.

    Rosie''s hand fell back to her side, empty now. The signs were there¡ªthe tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled into themselves like she was resisting the urge to hide them.

    Goddess help him, he hated seeing that look on her face. He had never seen her look so small. Not before him, when she first stood before an Alpha as a rogue. Not even before Briar, when she had toyed with her mercilessly. But this? This had made her shrink. And that, he couldn''t accept.

    Rosie shifted, weight tilting just slightly toward the door. A fraction of a step, barely noticeable. The walls were closing in on her. He could see it¡ªthe way her body tensed, her shoulders drawing in as if bracing for impact. Preparing to flee.

    To disappear into the background, or worse¡ª

    Back into the wild.

    He clenched his jaw.

    Not letting that happen.