“It doesn’t matter. The girl will return to human society where she belongs, and that’s final.”
Then why haven’t you sent her already? Why obsess over her injuries, her meals, her comfort? My jaw clenches.
“I’m gathering information.”
You’re stalling.
“I’m being thorough!”
You’re being a coward.
A growl rips from my throat.
The truth hurts, doesn’t it? Fenris continues, relentless. You’re terrified of what she makes you feel. Of how your control slips every time you’re near her. Of the possibility that the Lycan King might actually need someone.
“Enough. You’ve pushed too far”
And you haven’t pushed far enough. All this solitude made you forget what connection feels like. You’re so scared of repeating the past that you can’t see what’s right in front of you.
The burn of my tattoos intensifies, spreading across my neck and down my spine like liquid fire. Fenris is pulling away, separating himself from our shared consciousness.
I’m going to rest, he announces, his voice growing distant. Later, I’ll visit the girl myself.
“You will do no such thing,”
I snarl, but I can feel him receding, retreating to a place within me where I cannot follow.
It’s becoming pointless for me to see her when my Bonded keeps destroying whatever progress I make. I bring her comfort, you bring her terror. I offer warmth, you offer threats. And then you wonder why she’s scared of you.
I flinch.
I am your other half, your balance-and lately, the only one of us with any sense.
The burn of the tattoos diminishes as Fenris retreats deeper, severing our mental connection. I’m left alone in the hallway, my breathing heavy, staring at a cracked wall.
Fine. That furry bastard’s right about one thing-I’ve been stalling. But it’s not fear driving me. It’s practicality, damn it. The girl needs protection, and I need information. I can’t in good conscience send her out without making sure she has everything she needs.
We both saw what was in her backpack. I have no idea how she thought she was going to survive with just her meager stash of supplies, but the girl is ignorant of the world, sheltered due to Brax’s selfishness.
It’s my job to keep her here, safe under my watch, until I can set her free.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I storm off once more, ignoring the pull urging me to go see her again, to breathe in her scent.
Maybe the truth is more complicated than I’m willing to admit. Maybe I feel a little of the pull Fenris keeps existing is between us. Maybe, just maybe, I want to hold on to that little human, too, desperate for a peace only her scent can bring me. 1
But that doesn’t make her my mate. It makes her a liability. A weakness I cannot afford.
The kingdoms of men rise and fall on the backs of such weaknesses. How many have crumbled because they placed their hearts above their duty? How many packs have dissolved into chaos when their alphas chose passion over reason?
I reach the end of the corridor and pause, looking out the window at the Blue Mountain territory stretching before me. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the land. A land now without its alpha, thrown into turmoil because of a girl who smells like blueberry muffins.
If I were wise, I’d send her away tonight. Put her on a bus to Sterling City with enough money t start a new life. Cut this strange connection before it grows any stronger.
But wisdom has never been my strong suit. And Fenris is right about another thing-I’m not sending her anywhere until I understand exactly what’s happening between us.
Whether that makes me a fool or a king remains to be seen.
Caine’s strange behavior takes more mental real estate than it should, but I manage to finish my dinner with him gone. Eating under pressure is a lot harder than I ever expected.
With a full stomach and nothing else to do, I curl up on the bed. My eyelids grow heavy despite lingering anxiety, will Andrew really come? Is this plan going to work? Will I be okay once I get to Sterling City? So many questions, all impossible to answer without more time.
Eventually, the soft mattress beckons me into sleep, a temporary escape from this bizarre reality.
A rough shaking wrenches me out of deep sleep, and my foggy mind registers someone’s hand on my shoulder.
“Grace, wake up.”
I sit up with a yawn, stretching my arms above my head until my joints pop. The motion helps clear some of the cobwebs from my brain, but when my vision focuses, my body freezes mid-stretch, hands locked high in the air.
“Rafe?”
It’s not Andrew’s face hovering in front of me, but Raphael’s. His blue eyes shine so brightly, my stomach flips. Not with cute butterflies, but in dread. His gaze is too intense, almost fanatical.
“What are you doing here?”
I hiss, scrambling backward until I hit the wall. The distance between us isn’t nearly enough.
Rafe’s pine-and-earth scent, once thrilling and now rather generic, fills my nostrils, bringing unwelcome memories. His golden hair catches the light from the bedside lamp, creating a halo effect that seems laughably inappropriate given our recent past. How can someone so cruel look so much like someone’s fantasy of a hero?
“I needed to see you before you leave for Forest Springs.”
He sits on the edge of my bed like he belongs there, reaching for my hand.
“Andrew will be here soon.”
I almost blurt out that Forest Springs is the last place I’d willingly go, but snap my mouth shut. He doesn’t know about the change in plans, it’s strange, but I’m not complaining about it. It’s better this way.
Though, there’s always the possibility Andrew lied just to appease me. I guess I’ll find out soon.
“Why would you need to see me?”
I ask instead, pulling my knees to my chest and keeping my hands out of his reach.
His expression darkens as he takes his hand back, his brows drawing together.
“Of course it’s because I care about you, Gracie. I haven’t been able to see you since they murdered our people. I was worried.”
The audacity makes my jaw clench. His hands gesture between us as he continues.
“Everything’s been a mess, but I’m fixing it. You’ll see, Grace.”
He leans closer, earnestness radiating from him like heat. If my IQ was single digits, maybe I’d even believe in it.
“Ellie understands now. And soon, the Blue Mountain Pack will be officially mine. It’s only a matter of time before I can bring you home.”
Home. The word once meant something-safety, acceptance, belonging. Now it’s just four empty letters. This pack is not my home, and he’s one of the people who made it like this.
My face remains impassive through his passionate speech. His hands reach for me again, but I duck away from his attempted hug, scrambling off the bed.
“You need to leave,”
I say, my voice flat.
“Before you ruin the entire plan and bring the Lycans running back to my room.”
He shakes his head.
“Don’t worry, Grace. Everything’s fine. I have a little time. I just needed to see you!”
But it’s not fine. Nothing about this is fine. The space between us feels charged with something toxic-his delusional hope and my simmering resentment. A dangerous combination.
“Rafe, please-‘
“I
He reaches out suddenly, fingers brushing against my neck. The touch sends revulsion crawling across my skin, and I jerk away.
“I’m so glad you’re staying true to me,”
he says with a strange, overly soft smile.
“Refusing the Lycan King’s advances. Such a brave girl, my Grace.”
My brain stutters to comprehend his words. He thinks I’m rejecting Caine… for him? A laugh bursts from my throat, sharp and incredulous. His delusions are only growing, becoming more ridiculous. Maybe it’s his way of dealing with trauma.
Rafe’s eyebrows lift at my reaction, but he must misinterpret it, because he steps forward, arms opening for an embrace as his head swoops closer, lips pursed for a kiss.
I dodge again, almost tripping over my own feet. Now I’m between him and the door, which is not where I want to be. It’ll be hard to shove him out in this position.
His face twitches, irritation flashing across his features before he smooths it away.
“Come here,
Grace.”
No.
Not only no, but hell no. 2
“If your scent gets on me, the King will go crazy,”
I say, grasping for any excuse which might penetrate his thick skull.
This finally gives him pause. He runs a hand through his hair, sighing dramatically.
“You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”
His shoulders slump as he glances at me, his eyes wide and pathetic. It’s his puppy dog face. I used to think it was cute.
Now, it’s childish.
He steps around me, but his shoulder bumps against mine. The backs of our hands touch for a split second, but I try not to flinch. He’s doing what I want him to, I don’t want to start an argument and keep him here longer.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.