Chapter 8
Carter
“Have another biscuit,” Devon’s mom told me, her hand already reaching across the table to plop a golden-brown square onto my plate before I could get a word in.
I opened my mouth, ready to politely refuse.
There was no way I could fit another one after the mountain she’d already piled on me, but when I lifted my gaze, Devon’s eyes caught mine across the table.
He tilted his head just slightly, his lips forming silent words. Just eat the biscuit.
Something warm stirred in my chest. My wolf rumbled in amusement.
So I shut my mouth and bit into the damn biscuit.
It was good, buttery and flaky, just like the first four. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud. Devon’s mother looked pleased.
She was satisfied in that way only moms could be when they thought they were successfully fattening up a guest.
I hadn’t been fussed over like that in heck, maybe ever. Not even when my mother was alive and for once, I didn’t mind it.
When I insisted on accompanying Devon to his family home, I wondered if I made a mistake. The thought of leaving Thornebane, even for a few days, sat wrong in my gut.
I was the lead alpha. My responsibilities were constant, and the pack had leaned heavy on me since Adrian’s death.
There was always something that needed doing, always someone who needed me to solve a problem. The idea of stepping away felt almost selfish.
But as I stood there in the kitchen, sunlight slanting in through the wide window, listening to the laughter bubbling from his brothers as they teased each other over scrambled eggs.
Even Devon’s normally grumpy father father chucked into his coffee while his mother refilled everyone’s plates whether they asked or not…
It felt like breathing for the first time in months. A fresh wind in a stifling room I hadn’t even realized I was trapped in. And Devon—
My mind flickered back to last night. That kiss. Gods, that kiss.
The press of his mouth against mine was still branded into me, as vivid as fire searing across my skin. I could taste it if I closed my eyes.
The faint sweetness of whatever tea he’d been drinking, the salt-and-sun scent that clung to him, the way his lips had parted against mine like he’d been waiting for it just as much as I had.
The chemistry between us wasn’t a slow spark. It was a strike of lightning, instant and blinding.
The moment I touched him, my wolf surged forward, claiming, desperate, and hungry.
It took everything I had not to deepen it right there, not to pull him closer, not to bare my teeth and demand he was mine. It was dangerous, how much I wanted him.
Now, with his family around us, it felt almost unreal. Like that kiss had been stolen from another world, a world where I wasn’t alpha, where Devon wasn’t tied to another pack.
Where it could just be us.
“Another helping of eggs, Carter?” Devon’s mom asked brightly, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I held up both hands quickly, shaking my head. “No, thank you, ma’am. I don’t think I could eat another bite,” I told her.
She gave me a look that said she didn’t quite believe me, but mercifully, she let it go. Across the table, Devon smirked. He was enjoying this way too much.
I narrowed my eyes at him, fighting back my own grin. If we were alone, I’d have said something sharp to wipe that smug look off his face.
As it was, I had to settle for shoving the last bite of biscuit into my mouth in silent defiance.
By the time breakfast wound down, I found myself wishing I could freeze the moment. Just for a little while. Devon had told me I could’ve stayed a little longer if I wanted.
I was tempted, but my pack probably needed me. Hell, they always needed me.
But leaving felt like dragging myself out of a warm bed on a freezing morning. Reluctant. Heavy. Still, duty was duty.
Once everyone had finished eating, Devon offered to walk me out. We slipped from the bustle of the kitchen into the cooler air outside, gravel crunching under our boots.
My truck waited at the end of the drive, but I wasn’t in any rush to get there. Devon walked beside me, hands shoved into his pockets, his expression quiet.
When we reached the vehicle, he turned to me, that same steadiness in his gaze that had undone me since the first day.
“Drive safely,” Devon said, voice low but firm.
I huffed a laugh. “Always do.”
“And text me when you get there,” he added, almost stern, like he thought I might try to wriggle out of it.
That pulled a grin out of me I couldn’t hold back. My wolf perked up too, amused. Devon sounded like a protective boyfriend, and the thought sent a thrill through me.
I bit back the urge to tease him about it.
“I will,” I promised instead.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The urge to kiss him again rose sharp and insistent, tugging at me like gravity.
His mouth was right there, his lips parted just slightly, his breath misting faintly in the cool morning air. But over his shoulder, I caught sight of movement at the window. Mark. Watching us.
My wolf bristled instantly, possessive and irritated at the interruption.
But my rational mind knew better. The last thing I wanted was to put Devon in a position where his family saw too much, too soon.
So I just gave him one last look, let my grin soften into something more private. “See you soon, Devon.”
I climbed into the truck before my wolf could argue. The engine rumbled to life, gravel spraying behind me as I pulled down the drive.
I glanced once in the rearview mirror, catching a final glimpse of him standing there, hands still shoved into his pockets, watching me go. And for the first time in a long time, I felt lighter.
Not because I was leaving, but because of what I was taking with me. The memory of his lips. The sound of his laugh. The warmth of his family.
The sense, just for a breath, that I wasn’t only an alpha with endless burdens, but a man who could sit at a table, eat too many biscuits, and be cared for.
My wolf stretched inside me, content in a way he hadn’t been for months.
I knew my good mood wouldn’t last.
The moment I stepped out of the truck and into the compound, the scent of distress hit me first. It was sharp and raw, cutting through the usual mix of pine, woodsmoke, and wolf musk.
Then I saw Rose. She came running at me, her small frame shaking, tears streaking her cheeks. The sight of it hit me like a punch.
My wolf surged, hackles raised, every instinct screaming to protect, to defend, to hunt down whoever had caused her to cry.
“Hey, hey, what’s this?” I asked, steadying her with both hands on her shoulders.
She buried her face against me, sobbing too hard to form words. My wolf whimpered low in my chest, the sound rumbling up without my permission.
I stroked her hair, murmuring low and steady until her breathing evened out.
Only then did I pull back, searching her face. “Tell me, Rose. What’s wrong?”
She hiccupped, shaking her head. For a moment she couldn’t speak, only grabbed my arm with surprising strength and tugged.
Her fingers clenched tight around me as she dragged me across the compound. I already had a sinking feeling where she was leading me. And sure enough, my gut proved right.
The old clinic. Or what was going to become the new one.
Construction had been slow but steady. We’d started to clear the broken timbers, scrub the mildew off the stones, dig out the long-neglected herb garden.
It had felt good, seeing life return to the place. A symbol of change for Thornebane, proof to the pack that we were moving forward from Adrian’s ruin. Now…
I stopped dead. My wolf snarled, sharp and vicious.
The garden beds were overturned, soil scattered across the path like open wounds. Half-grown shoots of rosemary and sage had been ripped out and tossed aside, their roots dangling in the dirt.
The shed with the new tools we’d pooled together to buy had its lock broken clean off, shovels and hoes bent at ugly angles. Someone had sprayed crude markings along the old stone wall.
“Damn it,” I muttered, low and lethal.
Rose sniffled beside me, clinging to my arm. My rage simmered hotter. Whoever did this hadn’t just damaged property. They’d scared a kid. One of mine.
“Alpha?” a voice called cautiously.
I turned to see Alex jogging up the path. He was one of my steadier enforcers, a broad-shouldered wolf with a level head.
“What happened here?” I snapped.
Alex hesitated, jaw tight. “No one was stationed to watch the site overnight. This morning, a juvenile, Jerry, mentioned seeing Eli and Jeremy hanging around here yesterday evening. Didn’t think much of it at the time.”
Eli and Jeremy. Of course.
My hands curled into fists. My wolf pushed hard against my skin, ready to tear them both apart for daring to sabotage something that meant so much to me. To all of us.
I forced myself to breathe. This wasn’t the time to explode. Not with Rose still trembling at my side.
“Alex,” I said, my voice low and even, “take Rose home. Make sure she gets something warm to drink. Tell her mom I’ll check in later.”
Alex nodded immediately. She looked up at me, reluctant to let go, but I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
“It’s all right. I’ll handle this,” I told her.
Finally, she released me, letting Alex guide her back toward the houses. The second they were out of sight, I let my wolf’s fury off the leash. Eli and Jeremy.
I stalked across the compound, asking sharp, clipped questions of anyone who crossed my path. It didn’t take long to find them. The cafeteria. Perfect.
Too many witnesses. I pushed through the doors, and sure enough, there they were.
Eli leaning back in his chair with that cocky posture I’d always hated. Jeremy beside him, picking at his food with calculated nonchalance.
I didn’t waste time. “Eli. Jeremy.” My voice cut through the low chatter. The room quieted almost instantly. “Stand up. I have a question for you both.”
They exchanged a glance, then stood slowly, too slowly, like they thought dragging their heels made them look strong.
I didn’t move until they were directly in front of me. “Did either of you touch the clinic grounds?”
Eli scoffed, folding his arms. “No.”
Jeremy shook his head, though his eyes darted away. “Not us.”
“Funny,” I said coldly. “A juvenile saw you both there last night.”
“So what?” Eli shot back. “We were just walking. Doesn’t mean we trashed the place.”
My wolf bristled. His arrogance stank.
“You expect me to believe this is coincidence?” I stepped closer, letting a sliver of my alpha pressure bleed out. Both of them stiffened, their wolves rising to meet mine instinctively.
Jeremy broke first. “If you’d been there, alpha, this wouldn’t have happened at all.”
My growl rattled the walls. “Excuse me?”
Jeremy held my gaze for half a second before dropping it. “A lead alpha should prioritize the pack. Protect what’s important.”
“The way Adrian did?” I snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Silence fell over the cafeteria like a stone. Every head had turned toward us now, dozens of eyes watching, listening.
My wolf surged higher, pushing more pressure onto Eli and Jeremy, daring them to step out of line. Eli bared his teeth but didn’t meet my stare.
“At least Adrian was always around,” Eli muttered, low but not low enough.
The words struck me like claws across my chest. My wolf roared.
“What was that?” My voice cracked sharp, dangerous.
Jeremy flinched. “Nothing, Alpha.”
The tension in the air stretched taut as wire. Every instinct screamed at me to punish them, to bare my dominance, to remind them and everyone else watching who led Thornebane now.
But another instinct, colder and sharper, cut through. The pack was watching.
If I lost control here, if I made this about anger instead of leadership, it would undo everything I’d been building. They’d see Adrian’s ghost in me. And I swore I’d never be him.
I forced myself to inhale, then exhale, locking my wolf back behind steel bars.
“Leave,” I ordered. “Both of you.”
They looked dissatisfied, but they obeyed, slipping past me and out the doors.
Only when they were gone did I turn, scanning the room.
“Get back to your meals,” I said, steady as stone.
Slowly, the noise returned, the tension easing. But inside me, my wolf still paced, furious. I thought of Rose’s tears. Of the garden torn apart. Of Eli’s muttered jab about Adrian.
And I thought of Devon. His steady eyes, his gentle hands, the way he brought calm just by standing near.
I imagined, just for a second, what it would’ve been like to have him here when I walked into that cafeteria. My wolf quieted at the thought. But that was a dream, and this was reality.