Chapter 15 - Wyn
I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours, but my wolf won’t let me rest.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Raegan’s face when she walked out of that armory. The self-loathing in her voice when she called what we did a mistake. The way she wrapped her arms around herself like she was trying to hold the pieces together.
I fucked up. Again.
The coffee in my mug has gone cold, but I drink it anyway. The bitter taste matches my mood as I stare at the intelligence reports spread across my desk. New patrol schedules, defensive positions, supply inventories—everything we need to survive what’s coming.
But none of it explains this gnawing feeling that I’m missing something crucial about last night.
A knock interrupts my brooding. I expect Jay or one of the tactical team, but Maude enters instead.
She closes the door behind her and takes the seat across from me.
Her weathered hands fold in her lap as she looks at me with the same maternal concern she’s shown since I arrived.
In many ways, Maude has become the mother I never had—the one who listens without judgment and offers guidance when I’m too stubborn to ask for it.
“You look terrible,” she comments.
I rub the back of my neck and admit, “Haven’t been sleeping well.”
“I imagine not. Mate bonds have a way of making everything more difficult.”
My head snaps in her direction.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.
She tilts her head back and laughs. “Child, I’ve been watching wolves find their mates for sixty years. You think I can’t recognize the signs? What I can’t understand is, you’re torturing yourself over something that should bring you joy.”
“Joy?” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. “She hates me, Maude. And she has every right to.”
“Does she? Or does she hate the situation you’ve both been forced into?”
“I kidnapped her. Forced her into marriage. Took advantage of her when she was vulnerable.” Each confession feels like swallowing glass. “What kind of mate does that make me?”
Maude is quiet for a long moment as she tilts her head to the side. “Tell me about your parents’ marriage.”
I scrunch my nose and snort. “What about it?”
“How did they meet? How did your father court your mother?”
“He didn’t court her. It was arranged. Political alliance between their families.”
“And how did that work out?”
We both know how it worked out. The same way arranged marriages usually work out. With years of resentment and emotional abuse disguised as tradition.
When I don’t answer, she asks, “Are you so afraid of becoming him that you can’t see the difference between force and fate?”
I want to argue, to insist that what I’ve done is unforgivable. But Maude’s gentle voice keeps cutting through my defenses.
“Your father never questioned his actions because he believed he was entitled to take what he wanted. You’ve been questioning yours since the moment you made them. That difference matters, Wyn.”
“I’m not so sure. The result is the same. Raegan is trapped here against her will.”
“She could’ve refused to sign the marriage license. Or, if she genuinely felt coerced, she could’ve demanded a divorce once she was back home. Her brother would have supported her choice.”
The truth of that statement settles uncomfortably in my chest. Raegan chose to go through with the marriage, even when she could have backed out.
“She did it to protect her pack,” I counter.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps she did it because some part of her recognized what you are to each other, even if she couldn’t admit it consciously. Although I suspect she does know.”
I open my mouth, and I almost tell her about what happened between us three years ago, but the memory of Raegan’s face last night is too fresh. The self-loathing in her voice when she called herself weak.
“She regrets it,” I grind out.
“She regrets the circumstances that led to it. That’s not the same thing.”
Maude reaches across the table and covers one of my fists with her hand. The contact is gentle, maternal in a way I haven’t experienced in so many years.
“Your parents accepted resentment as inevitable, love as impossible.” Her fingers squeeze mine. “Don’t make their mistakes, child.”
“What if I hurt her more than I already have?”
“What if you don’t? What if you trust in her strength instead of hiding behind your fear?”
Jay bursts through the door without knocking, interrupting the conversation.
“We’ve got a problem,” he announces, then notices Maude and stops. “Sorry, didn’t know you were—”
“I was just leaving.” Maude rises from her chair, but she pauses at the door. “Think about what I said, Wyn. That girl loves you, whether she’s ready to admit it or not. The question is whether you’re brave enough to love her back.”
Then she’s gone, leaving me with Jay and whatever crisis he’s brought.
“What’s the situation?” I ask.
“Thornridge has accelerated its timeline. They’re moving in days, not weeks.”
My stomach drops. “How certain are we?”
“Dead certain. Once we took that prisoner, they got spooked and assumed he talked. They’re ready to jump into action.”
I follow Jay down the hallway toward the communications center.
“There’s more,” Jay continues as we walk. “More schools in the area have discovered their exchange students are with Thornridge. Shifters and wolves. We’re running background checks on every exchange student in the region.”
“They’re trying to get eyes all around us. How many territories are compromised?”
“We’re about to find out. Emergency communications going out to every pack leader within a hundred miles.”
The communications center is in chaos when we arrive. Radio chatter fills the room as operators coordinate with pack after pack, sharing intelligence and confirming similar infiltration patterns.
“Riverside Territory reports two confirmed operatives among their exchange students,” Theodore calls out from his station.
“Westfield has four,” another operator adds.
“Pine Ridge just found evidence of a supply cache hidden on their southern border.”
Each report paints a clearer picture of Thornridge’s regional strategy. They’re surrounding us by infiltrating all the neighboring towns. Then, they’ll be in place to use the Amanzite to expand.
“It’s a resource grab,” I realize aloud. “They hit us first for the Amanzite, then use that wealth to fund expansion into neighboring territories.”
Jay nods. “Domino effect. Once they take us, the others fall like clockwork.”
The responsibility settles on my shoulders. We’re not just fighting for our own survival; we’re the first line of defense for every pack in the region.
“Start coordinating intelligence sharing with every territory that’s been infiltrated,” I order. “Somebody find Oren and make sure he’s up to date. The alpha needs the details.”
The next few hours run together in a stream of phone calls, tactical planning, and resource allocation.
By the time I return to my house, my head is pounding from too much caffeine and too little sleep.
The bond with Raegan snaps to attention as soon as I step foot inside, but I don’t seek her out.
After last night, she’s made it clear she needs space.
Instead, I try to sleep and fail miserably.
The next morning brings another crisis. I’m barely through my first cup of coffee when Theodore appears with a tablet full of concerning intelligence.
“We’ve identified their communication system,” he reports. “Dead drops, coded messages, even some digital encryption we’re still working to crack.”
“What’s the timeline on breaking their codes?”
“Maybe six hours if we’re lucky. Twelve if we’re not.”
Before I can respond, voices carry from the corridor outside my office. I recognize Raegan’s voice immediately, along with Ash and Veva. They’re discussing something with the kind of animated energy that usually means trouble.
“The perimeter sweep would give us real-time positioning data,” Raegan is saying as they pass my door. “Without it, we’re making decisions based on assumptions.”
“It’s too risky,” Veva argues. “They’ll have sensors, patrols, and probably snipers positioned on the high ground.”
“Which is why we go in small. Fast. Get the intelligence and get out before they can respond.”
My wolf goes on high alert at the direction their conversation is taking. Field reconnaissance means putting people in danger—specifically, putting Raegan in danger if she’s involved.
I follow them to the living room, where they’ve spread laptops and tactical maps across every available surface.
“What’s the discussion?” I ask.
“Field reconnaissance,” Raegan replies without looking up from her work. “We need current intelligence on Thornridge positioning before we can finalize any battle plan.”
“Absolutely not.”
She’s not trained for combat operations. She doesn’t understand how quickly things can go wrong out there. It’s not happening.
“I’m sorry, was I asking your permission?”
“You’re not qualified for field operations.”
“I have more intelligence training than half your team.”
“Academic knowledge isn’t the same as field experience.”
She finally looks at me then, and the fury in her eyes is unmistakable. “So I should just sit here quietly while everyone else makes decisions about my future?”
The parallel to last night isn’t lost on me. Once again, I’m trying to control her choices instead of trusting her judgment.
But this is different. This is about keeping her alive.
“This is about risk assessment, Raegan.”
“Whose risk assessment? Yours or the mission’s?”
The question cuts deeper than she probably intended. Because she’s right—my objection isn’t tactical. It’s personal. The thought of Raegan in danger makes rational analysis impossible.
“The mission’s,” I lie.
“Then you won’t mind if I present my proposal to my brother this afternoon.” She closes her laptop and folds her arms. “Since it’s purely about mission effectiveness.”
Ash and Veva look at one another, clearly recognizing the undercurrents in our conversation. They make excuses and disappear, leaving Raegan and me alone.
“This isn’t about last night,” she says once they’re gone, cutting off my angle before I can even voice it.
“Isn’t it?”
“No. It’s about the fact that I have the skills this operation needs, and you’re letting personal feelings interfere with tactical decisions. You’ve always been way too protective of me, Wyn.”
She’s not entirely wrong. Everything I’ve done since she arrived has been about personal feelings, and since the day I met her, I’ve been unnaturally protective.
“Fine,” I relent. “Present your proposal. Let the team evaluate it on its merits.”
“Good.”
She starts to walk away, but I catch her arm. The contact sends electricity through the bond between us, and I see her fight not to react to it.
“Raegan, about last night—”
“What about it? You got what you wanted, I got what I wanted. Problem solved.”
“Is that really how you see it?”
“How else should I see it?” She pulls free from my grip. “We’re both adults. We have needs. Last night we met them. It doesn’t have to be more than that.”
But it is more than that, and we both know it. The mate bond ensures that every interaction between us carries weight, meaning, consequence, neither of us is prepared to face.
But if she needs me to pretend, then I’ll pretend.
“Right,” I agree. “Nothing more than that.”
She nods and walks away, leaving me alone with the certainty that I’ve just made another mistake. By trying to protect her, I’ve pushed her further away.
And this afternoon, she’ll present her reconnaissance proposal to the tactical team, knowing I’ll have to choose between respecting her autonomy and protecting her life.
Whatever happens next, I can’t keep treating her like something fragile that needs to be sheltered.
But I also can’t lose her to this war before I’ve had the chance to prove Maude right—that the difference between my parents’ fucked up marriage and what we could have lies in choosing to fight for each other instead of against fate.