Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Ryker leads me through winding tunnels back toward our den, his hand a constant presence at the small of my back, warm and solid.
The mineral waters have done their work—his silver burns now appear as faded pink marks rather than angry welts, and my own aches from the Claiming run have eased.
We’re both wrapped in soft woven cloth towels, though Ryker wears his slung low on his waist and with the casual confidence of someone who considers clothing optional at best.
He guides me back through via a different passage, pointing out various rooms—storage areas, a medical practice, children’s playrooms, and communal kitchens that smell faintly of roasted meat and herbs.
As we emerge into the main cavern, the atmosphere shifts.
It’s a vast, open space humming with low conversation and the thrum of pack life.
It’s a massive space with a vaulted ceiling that rises high above us.
There’s a cluster of narrow crystal shafts carved into the rock overhead, light tunnels engineered so cleverly that no outside threat could ever slip through.
It’s dark now, but I can imagine how different this space must look in the light of the morning when beams strike the center of the cavern, turning dust motes to gold and illuminating a mosaic floor patterned with lunar phases and pack sigils.
Wolves gather in quiet groups around stone hearths and on elevated platforms. The moment they see Ryker, a ripple passes through the room—spines straightening, heads dipping in subtle deference.
Some nod respectfully, acknowledging him with the quiet reverence reserved for dominant predators.
Others pause mid-task, their gazes flicking to me with open curiosity, suspicion, or worse—thinly veiled hostility.
The air thickens around me, prickling with unspoken questions. I catch whispered words, seer… human-born… can’t even shift—before Ryker’s presence silences them. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t growl. He doesn’t need to. The way he walks, the raw power in his frame, the weight of his gaze—it’s enough.
His hand presses more firmly to the small of my back, a silent claim and warning in one. Mine, the touch says. Look, but don’t forget who stands at her side.
“They don’t know what to make of me,” I murmur, keeping my voice low as we pass a group of females who make no effort to hide their stares.
“They’ll learn,” he replies simply, guiding me toward a carved stone stairway that spirals upward. “My quarters are above most of the pack dens. Better vantage point.”
We’ve barely started climbing when I feel it—a sudden shift in the air, a tension that makes the fine hairs on my arms stand on end. Ryker stiffens beside me, his body coiling with instant alertness.
“What is it?” I ask, though part of me already knows. Through our bond, I can sense his wolf’s immediate response, territorial, protective, angry.
“Stay behind me,” he orders, his voice dropping to that dangerous growl that promises violence.
At the top of the stairway stands a woman, tall and lean, with striking white-blonde hair and eyes so pale blue they appear almost silver in the dim light.
She’s beautiful in the way of wolves—all predatory grace and deadly efficiency.
A jagged scar runs from her right temple down her cheek, disappearing beneath the high collar of her fitted black shirt.
Even from this distance, I can feel the power radiating from her. She’s not just any wolf—she’s an enforcer, maybe even Ryker’s beta.
“Lithia,” Ryker acknowledges her, his tone giving nothing away.
This must be Dane’s sister, one of the two wolves Ryker told me I could trust. The hostility pouring from her suggests Ryker’s confidence may have been misplaced.
Her eyes fix on me with cold intensity. “This is what you bring us?” Her voice is as sharp as broken glass. “A wolf who can’t shift?”
Ryker’s growl vibrates through the stone beneath our feet. “Choose your next words carefully, Lithia.”
“You cannot punish me when I speak truth, Alpha.” She descends three steps, her movements controlled. “The pack whispers. They say you’ve claimed a broken wolf for her parlor tricks. They say you’ve endangered us all for a female who can’t run with us, can’t hunt with us, can’t—”
“She saved lives tonight,” Ryker cuts her off, his voice deadly quiet. “Her ‘parlor tricks’ prevented an ambush that would have killed half our enforcers.”
Lithia’s lip curls. “There wouldn’t have been any bloodshed if not for her. One lucky vision doesn’t make her worthy of being Alpha Female.”
My breath catches at the challenge in her words. Through our bond, I feel Ryker’s fury building, a storm gathering force.
“She bears my mark,” he says, each word precise and heavy with threat. “That makes her Alpha Female. The matter is settled.”
“Nothing is settled.” Lithia takes another step down, and I notice she’s not wearing shoes, her bare feet silent against the stone. “The laws are clear, even for us. The role of Alpha Female may be granted, but it must also be earned.”
I step out from behind Ryker, ignoring his warning growl.
The moment I move forward, something shifts inside me.
The world tilts, colors bleeding together.
I’ve experienced enough visions to recognize the signs, but this one comes without the usual pain, flowing naturally like water finding its path.
Through our bond, I feel Ryker’s surprise as my gift surges, pulling me under while leaving me strangely conscious. It’s different from before, more controlled, more focused. I remain standing, my eyes meeting Lithia’s defiant gaze, but I’m seeing beyond the present moment.
I see her, younger, barely more than a child. She’s crouched in darkness, covering the mouth of an even smaller boy—Dane. Fae hunters move through the forest above them, silver weapons gleaming in moonlight. They’re hiding. Surviving.
Another flash, Lithia standing before Ryker, her face unmarked by the scar she now bears. “I failed them,” she’s saying, voice breaking. “My family, my responsibility….”
And then, shockingly clear, Lithia throwing herself between a silver blade and Ryker, taking the wound that now marks her face. Saving her alpha without hesitation.
The vision releases me gently, and I feel a little like driftwood being carried to shore. I find myself still standing, still facing Lithia, but with new understanding.
“You bear the scar meant for him,” I say softly.
Lithia freezes, her body rigid. “What did you say?”
“The silver blade,” I continue, the vision’s details crystal clear in my mind. “You stepped between it and Ryker. You weren’t fast enough to stop it completely, but you turned the killing blow into...” I gesture to my own cheek, mirroring the path of her scar.
The hostility in her eyes transforms into wary disbelief. She flicks a glance at Ryker. “You told her?”
Through our bond, I feel Ryker’s mixture of surprise and dawning realization. He steps beside me, no longer shielding me but standing as my equal.
“I told Kitara nothing of your sacrifice. All she knows is that she could trust you.” He glowers. “Are you proving me wrong?”
Without thinking, I lay a hand on his arm, halting his words.
“You protect what matters to you,” I tell Lithia.
“Your brother when you were children, hidden in a hollow beneath a fallen oak while hunters searched above. Your Alpha, taking the silver that was meant for him.” I take a step toward her.
“Now you think you’re protecting your pack from me. ”
A low murmur of voices reaches us, and I realize we’ve gathered an audience. Wolves line the upper walkways and lower platforms, drawn by the tension radiating through their pack bond.
A bond I’ve yet to fully establish, but one I crave more than ever.
Lithia’s expression shifts, confusion replacing hostility. “You saw my past?”
I nod slowly. “My visions… they’re not just about what’s coming. Sometimes they show me what I need to understand.” I swallow, trying to hold her gaze. “I understand your loyalty. I understand why you’d question me. And… I’m grateful you protected Ryker.”
The gathered wolves watch in silence. The weight of their eyes drapes over me like chains, not yet oppressive but heavy enough to remind me I don’t belong.
“I don’t ask you to accept me recklessly,” I tell Lithia, aware that I’m speaking to the entire pack now. “ Just… give me a chance. Judge me by what I can do. Not by what I was born without.”
I shift my hands in front of me, unsure what to do with them. “I’ll never run as a wolf, I know that. But I can see threats others miss. I’ll never draw blood with claws, but I’ll bleed for this pack if I have to. The Moon Goddess gave me something, even if it’s not what you’re used to.”
Lithia studies me for a long moment, her gaze searching mine for deception. Finally, her posture shifts, not quite relaxed but no longer openly hostile.
“The Alpha has chosen,” she says, inclining her head slightly. “Time will prove your worth... or your weakness.”
It’s not acceptance, not yet. But it’s an opening—a chance to prove myself through actions rather than words.
“Fair enough,” I reply, matching her formal tone.
Ryker steps forward, his presence commanding immediate attention. “Kitara is my mate and your Alpha Female,” he announces, his voice carrying through the cavern. “Her gift has already saved Shadowmist blood. Remember that before you whisper challenges.”
The gathered wolves disperse, conversations already buzzing with what they’ve witnessed. Lithia gives me one last measuring look before turning away, her movements still predatory but lacking the open aggression from moments before.
As Ryker guides me the rest of the way up the stairs, his hand returns to the small of my back.
“Are you okay?” he asks once we’re alone in the corridor leading to our chambers.
I shake my head, still processing what happened.
“I’ve never had that happen before. Usually, my visions are either vague glimpses that come in dreams or forced visions that leave me bleeding and weak.
” I look up at him, wondering. “Could it be the claiming bond? Your power somehow stabilizing mine?”
“Perhaps.” His finger traces the line of my jaw. “Time will tell.”
Inside our room, I let myself embrace the hope that I’ve so coveted.
“What did you see?” Ryker asks as he closes the heavy door behind us. “About Lithia?”
“Everything that makes her loyal to you,” I answer honestly. “Everything that makes her dangerous to your enemies.”
His smile is slow and satisfied. “Then you understand why you can trust her.”
“Yes.”
Through our bond, I feel his certainty—warm and absolute. “She now understands your value as well, little seer. Whether she admits it yet or not.”
As Ryker moves toward me, his intentions clear in the heat of his gaze, I realize that I’ve won something more significant than Lithia’s grudging acceptance. I’ve glimpsed what I could become here, with this pack, with this mate.
See? my wolf asks. He is a mate to stand beside.
The air inside the den is warm, faintly spiced with cedar and smoke. Ryker’s scent. Comforting. Commanding. Entirely him.
The silence stretches between us as I wrap the towel tighter around my body, damp tendrils of hair curling along my neck. I can feel his gaze like heat on my skin, tracking every breath, every shift of fabric.
“You handled Lithia well,” he murmurs, stepping toward me with the slow certainty of a predator who already knows his prey won’t run.
“I didn’t know I could,” I admit. “The vision came… clean. No pain or confusion.”
He stops in front of me, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from my cheek. “Because you weren’t alone in it.”
My breath catches. The bond between us hums, a pulse under my skin that responds to his nearness. There’s a pull between us that goes far deeper than attraction.
His fingers trail from my cheek down the line of my jaw, then lower, grazing my collarbone where the cloth begins to dip.
“Ryker,” I whisper, unsure if it’s a warning or a plea.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, voice low and rough. “And I will.”
I don’t. I can’t.
Instead, I tilt my face up, lips parting slightly. His eyes flash with hunger. But he’s restrained, balancing on the edge.
His hand slides down, warm against my waist as he steps closer, chest nearly brushing mine. The damp fabric we wear are barriers in name only. I can feel the heat of him, the strength, the hunger beneath the surface.
“Your eyes are saying yes,” he murmurs, his mouth so close to mine I can taste the promise, “but your body’s saying no, little wolf.”
I shudder. Not from fear, but from the sheer force of his control.
“And I will not force my mate.” He steps back, just a breath, but it might as well be a mile. “You’ll want me just as much as I want you. You’ll come to me because you need to, not because the bond tells you to.”
It shouldn’t undo me. Shouldn’t make something inside me tremble more than any kiss could. But it does. That he wants me but won’t take me. That he sees my hesitation and meets it with patience.
My throat tightens. “I don’t know how to give myself without breaking.”
Ryker smiles, slow and dangerous, but not unkind. “Then we’ll go slow.”
He turns away, giving me space. Control.
“Sleep in my bed tonight,” he adds, glancing over his shoulder. “Just sleep. Let your body learn me without fear.”
And damn, if that isn’t the most seductive thing he’s said all night.