Chapter 1 #2
“Not that lucky,” I grumbled. “I’ll talk to her again. Okay?”
“I don’t want you talking to her,” he said with more bite than necessary. “I want her fucking listening.”
“Killian.”
If you completed your mate bond, you’d have more control over her. His voice rumbled in my head.
I don’t want to control her; she isn’t an animal to be trained. But I will talk to her. Again. Now shut the fuck up about it.
“You need to check in with the family?” Killian changed the subject. Which I was grateful for.
“Yeah, going now. Go…” I looked at him and grinned, knowing I was being an asshole. “Go speak to the druid about the loss.”
Killian stopped short and growled low. “You’re a prick,” he grouched, turned on his heel, and walked off in the other direction, towards the druid’s tent.
The two of them didn’t blend well. The druid with their ancient ways, and Killian with his very modern outlook on life, they were oil and water, and the chances of them ever co-existing peacefully were getting smaller every day.
I wasn’t proud of the fact that I kept sending Killian to the druid in my place, but knowing it was the only way to shut my beta up about his dislike for Rowen, I kept doing it.
The woods were too quiet on the way to the dead shifter’s house.
Not peaceful. Not still. Just…quiet in that wrong kind of way. The kind of quiet that warned you something had moved through and left nothing alive behind.
I didn’t shift. My wolf was pacing just under the surface, claws dragging on the inside of my skin like it wanted to tear something open. I needed to stay sharp, not give in to instinct.
Not tonight.
Not when I already felt like I was losing control.
The patrol route twisted back toward the Hollow, and with every step, the weight of it pressed heavier on my shoulders—responsibility, failure, the echo of the older shifter’s voice saying “Stonefang Pack” like it was a damn curse.
And behind it all…the bond.
It pulled at me constantly now. Not painful, not exactly. Just this low, persistent ache—a tug behind the ribs, right where her scent used to settle when things were simpler. When we weren’t circling each other like enemies with blood-stained knives behind our backs.
Rowen hadn’t come to the ridge tonight. Smart move. She’d have seen the way the Hollow shifters looked at Cale. The way they listened.
Hell, I saw it.
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t alpha. Respect could be louder than fate in the right moment, and that worried me more than anything else. Because if respect could be earned…it could also be lost.
And I didn’t know when I’d stopped earning hers.
I got to the house and saw it was in darkness. I couldn’t remember if he had a wife. Goddess, I couldn’t even remember his name. All I could remember was the sight of his torn-out throat as he lay dead in the grass.
Fuck.
“The burden you carry is heavy.”
I turned to the druid, who stepped out of the darkness like a damn wraith. The fleeting thought that Killian would be wearing a shit-eating grin amused me for about a second, but when I met the mismatched stare of the druid, I lost all sense of humor.
“Druid,” I greeted them calmly.
“His wife has already been told,” the druid informed me. “She is being taken care of.”
“Who?” I asked them. It should have been me, but I was too late.
“Do you plan to punish them?” When the druid saw my confusion at the question, they elaborated. “For speaking the truth before you.”
“It should have been me who informed her of her loss,” I said evenly. “But it won’t make her loss any less, as long as she was told with respect and care.”
The druid nodded. “I told her.”
“Bad news travels fast,” I muttered.
“This pack seems to be dealing with more than their fair share of bad news recently,” they said as they stepped closer. “Trouble is hounding your steps, Alpha.”
I let out a sigh. “It seems that way, Druid,” I said as I looked up at the canopy of trees above me. “Any words of wisdom for your alpha?”
They chuckled, their hands smoothing over the front of their robes. “Luna has been quiet when it comes to you,” they told me.
“I bet she has.” We shared a look. “And what has she to say about my mate?”
The druid watched me intently. “The pack senses your discord; the marriage was a way to keep Rowen here and present. The fact that you are mates, no one predicted. The fact you’re both resisting the bond is…
unwise.” They took a breath. “Heal the bond, heal the pack.” They looked me over. “Just a suggestion.”
With a dip of their head, they melted back into the shadows like a ghost. Given the fact that the druid was just as much flesh and blood as I was, the way they shifted into the shadows was unnerving.
“Just a suggestion,” I mumbled grumpily. “See how you fare with the she-demon.” I turned and walked back the way I had come.
The Hollow came into view, a soft amber glow from the fire pits lighting the trees. I saw a patrol pass by and nodded their way, seeing how they instantly straightened. One opened his mouth—probably to report something I already knew—but I waved him off. I wasn’t in the mood for recaps.
I headed straight for the house. Ours, technically. Though it didn’t feel like that. It wasn’t that big—enough for the two of us. My boots echoed on the stone steps as I climbed them, shoved the door open, and paused.
Empty.
No fire. No light.
No Rowen.
I exhaled slowly and ran a hand through my hair, dragging it back.
She’d probably stayed in the pack hall again. Or maybe she was still out smoothing over whatever diplomatic mess needed mopped up after the loss tonight. I’d seen Cale talk to her a few times since he got here. Always so level. Always so reasonable.
My wolf didn’t like him. Neither did I. But it wasn’t because he was dangerous. It was because he was everything I wasn’t when I lost my temper.
I moved to the fireplace, struck a match, and lit the kindling. The flame caught slowly, stubborn. Like the rest of this place.
I didn’t sit. I stood in the flickering light and watched the shadows crawl up the walls. My mind wandered—to the way her eyes had looked the last time I’d raised my voice. Not angry. Not scared.
Disappointed.
That was worse.
I felt the bond stir again—like it was checking to see if I was still here. Still hers.
I was.
Even if neither of us was willing to admit it.