Chapter 9 #2
When she’s gone, Ryker pushes off from the doorway, moving toward me with that predatory grace that still makes my heart race. He’s dressed now, though the fitted black pants and open vest do little to conceal the scars mapping his torso.
“Did you sleep well?” he asks, his eyes tracing me in my borrowed robe.
I nod, holding the edges closed. “Yes. Thank you for—” I gesture around the room. “—for this. I’ve never had access to knowledge about my gift before.”
His fingers brush the claiming mark, sending warmth cascading through me.
“The library is yours. But your place is with me, in our chambers.” The possessiveness in his voice should frighten me, but instead, it sends a thrill down my spine.
“You need to get used to my presence, my scent... my touch.”
The claiming bond hums between us, carrying the truth of his words. He believes what he’s saying, even if I still struggle to accept it.
I look past him, my fingers drifting toward one of the books again. I swallow, knowing I need to confess my failure but terrified of what he might think.
Ryker’s fingers are gentle on my chin as he turns my face toward his. “I can smell your fear, Kitara. Talk to me.”
“I can’t read,” The words feel heavier than they should. “I was never taught.”
The shift in him is immediate. Subtle, but sharp. His jaw clenches. His body goes still, taut with something that looks like fury. His eyes flare—wild, feral, dangerous.
My stomach drops.
He regrets claiming me.
Of course he does. What alpha ties himself to a female who can’t even read her own name? I look away, shame prickling across my skin.
He exhales hard through his nose as his hands come up to cup my face.
“Calm, Kitara,” he murmurs, voice raw. “I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at them. At those fucking bastards who kept you small. Who used your gift and gave you nothing in return.”
A beat of silence stretches between us, thick with things I don’t know how to say.
Then he softens, the storm in his eyes ebbing.
“I’ll teach you,” he says simply. “Every night, if you want. Or I’ll ask Lyra, one of the elders. She’s taught many of our pack. Then you can read the journals and know how to control your power.”
I stare at him, throat tight, heart thudding like it’s trying to escape the cage of my ribs. No one’s ever offered to build me up before. Only to tear me down, use what they needed, and leave the rest.
This… this is something else entirely.
I shake my head, not in refusal, but because I don’t know what to say. It’s too big. Too kind. Too much.
“I don’t even know where to start,” I whisper, ashamed of the wobble in my voice.
Ryker brushes a knuckle down my jaw, his touch grounding. “You start by showing up. That’s enough.”
My eyes burn. I blink hard, holding them back by sheer force of will.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t tease. Just cups my cheek and lets me have this moment. Lets me be.
I nod once, fiercely. “Okay.”
He grins, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I think I’ll like teaching you new things.” There’s a husky tease in his tone but he lets me go, moving away to walk around the room, examining the various trinkets and tools on the shelves.
“Nora mentioned your mother lived here,” I say, watching his expression carefully.
An old pain flickers across his face. “She did. For many years before she left to join another pack.”
“Was your father the alpha?”
“No.” He doesn’t elaborate.
I stand awkwardly, waiting for him to explain further, but instead he turns away from the room, walking toward the door.
“Get dressed,” he says over his shoulder. “Your training begins in the East Chamber.”
After he leaves, I find exercise clothing laid out for me, practical but well-made. Leggings and a shirt in deep forest green, with soft shoes that fit perfectly. Everything seems tailored to my size, which raises questions I don’t have time to consider.
I move about our chambers, feeling half a thief in borrowed finery.
The clothing, his mother’s room, the freedom to explore—it all feels like a dream from which I’ll wake at any moment.
For twenty-five years, I’ve been the broken wolf, the failed shifter, useful only for a gift I can’t control.
Now I’m being offered tools, training, respect.
The sheer difference between my old life and this new one feels too vast to comprehend.
I return to the library, running my fingers along the spines of the ancient books.
Some are written with symbols I don’t recognize, their bindings cracked with age.
Others appear newer, journals filled with handwritten notes.
Knowledge from one seer to another, preserved for a future she may have foreseen.
As I prepare to leave, I catch sight of myself in a polished silver mirror. The woman who looks back is someone I barely recognize. She stands straighter, color in her cheeks, a claiming mark vivid against her throat. There’s something different in her eyes too, the faintest glimmer of hope.
I touch the mark, feeling Ryker’s power pulse in response. Through our bond, I sense his impatience, his eagerness to begin whatever training he has planned. But beneath that runs a deeper current—determination.
Taking a deep breath, I leave our chambers, following the pull of our bond through the stone corridors. Whatever comes next, I am no longer the broken wolf of Silvercrest Pack.
I am Kitara, Female Alpha of the Shadowmist Pack, and mate to the Shadowmist alpha. And for the first time in my life, that might be enough.