Chapter 34
Dane
Imove through the main lodge, past clusters of wolves who look up but don’t meet my eyes. The fire in the hearth burns low, crackling occasionally as someone shifts a log with the iron poker. No one speaks above a murmur. No one needs to.
Ben stands with Kari near the far wall, bent over the patrol rotation chart.
His finger traces the boundary lines, voice pitched low as he explains the weak points.
“Third watch rotation needs reinforcement here,” he says, tapping a section.
“And we’ll need two scouts on the eastern ridge to cover Harper’s supply team when they return from Silverwood.
” He pauses, adds under his breath so low only my Alpha hearing can make out, “At least she’s coordinating from here this time, not riding with them.
” The relief in his voice is barely there, but unmistakable.
When Harper walks past them toward the supply table, Ben’s eyes flick up, track her movement, then return to the map. Not a word. Just that momentary break in focus that tells me everything.
I watch Harper kneel beside Mateo and two younger wolves, her hands steady as she checks their packs.
She removes a knife from one bag, replaces it with something smaller, sleeker.
“This will serve you better,” she says. “Less weight, same damage.” The young warrior nods, soaking in her calm like it might protect him tomorrow.
Across the room, Callum hunches over the terrain map spread across the table. His shoulders bunch with tension as he marks potential ambush points in red. Lyanna stands at his side, close enough that their sleeves almost touch. Almost.
“The southeastern ridge will be vulnerable,” she says, voice clipped. “The ground remembers old magic there.”
“We covered it,” Callum replies without looking up.
“Not adequately.”
Callum’s jaw tightens. He redraws the line, pressing harder with the marker. They don’t look at each other, but I can smell the charge between them.
Kari finishes with Ben and moves to inventory weapons.
Her movements are precise, economical. She tucks three extra blades into her belt, testing their weight and balance.
Once, just once, her gaze slides to where Rafe stands in the shadows near the back door.
Their eyes meet. Hold for one breath. Two. Then break away like it never happened.
Rafe says nothing. Just watches the room with that unreadable stillness that makes some of my wolves nervous.
But I know a warrior when I see one—and in the days since he showed up, he’s proven himself in ways that matter.
Never questioning orders, never hesitating when the pack needed him.
His attention shifts to me, a brief acknowledgment.
I nod once. We understand what’s coming without speaking it aloud.
Nova works alone at the far end of the room, grinding herbs into a fine powder. The air around her still smells faintly singed from the ritual. Her fingers move quickly, methodically. She catches me watching but doesn’t break rhythm.
I circle the room once more, checking ammunition, confirming routes, answering questions with single-word responses. My wolves are tense but focused. The younger ones try to hide their fear. The veterans don’t bother. They know fear keeps you sharp.
When the clock strikes midnight, I straighten. “Get rest. We leave at dawn.”
They move without argument, gathering their gear. Ben pauses at the door, throwing one last look at Harper as she helps Mateo adjust his pack strap. Callum brushes past Lyanna, their shoulders finally touching. She stiffens but says nothing.
One by one, they file out. Nova is the last to leave, sealing her herbal mixture into small pouches. She stops at the threshold and turns to face me. No words. Just that violet gaze steady on mine, a silent recognition of what waits for us beyond the trees.
Then she’s gone.
I stand alone in the lodge. The fire pops once, sending up a shower of sparks. The maps remain open, marked with our plans, our hopes, and our desperate strategy.
They’re ready. Well, as ready as they can be.
I lock the bunkhouse door behind me—the old saloon repurposed for pack housing, its weathered wood still carrying echoes of a wilder era.
The perimeter check took longer than usual.
Every wolf is on edge, asking questions about tomorrow that I don’t have answers for.
My boots crunch against the gravel path leading to my cabin.
My door is unlocked. I don’t need to check who’s inside. Her scent reaches me before I even touch the handle.
Nova sits at my kitchen table, a mug of something herbal steaming between her hands. She doesn’t look up when I enter, but her shoulders shift slightly.
I hang my jacket on the hook and place my knife on the counter. The silence stretches between us, not uncomfortable, but loaded. Heavy with things we haven’t said.
“Everyone settled?” she asks finally, her voice low.
“As much as they can be.” I fill a glass with water from the tap, drink half of it in one swallow. “Ben’s checking the north ridge again. Callum won’t sleep tonight.”
She nods. We both know what morning brings. What we’re facing. What we might lose.
I sit across from her, the wooden chair creaking under my weight. Her eyes lift to mine, violet and steady. No fear there. No regret. Just clear focus and something else. Something that makes my chest tighten.
“I didn’t think you’d come here,” I say.
“Neither did I.” She cradles the mug, fingers tracing its rim. “But here I am.”
The clock on the wall ticks loudly. Five hours until dawn. Until we lead the pack against Faelan’s forces. Until we find out if all our plans hold up.
“When this started,” I begin, choosing each word carefully, “I thought you were a threat to keep contained.”
Her mouth quirks. Not quite a smile. “I was.”
“No.” I lean forward, elbows on the table. “You were never what I expected. You were something else entirely.”
She stills. The air between us changes, charges.
“What was I?” she asks, voice barely audible.
“A mirror.” My hand moves across the table, not touching her yet. “You showed me what this pack needed. What I needed.”
“And what was that?”
“Someone who stands their ground. Even against me.”
She sets the mug down, fingers brushing against mine. The contact sends heat crawling up my arm. Her pulse jumps, visible at her throat.
“I told myself I came here for the mission,” she says. “To give you the herbs for tomorrow. To go over the plan one more time.”
I capture her wrist gently, thumb pressing against her pulse point. “That’s not why you’re here.”
“No.” She doesn’t pull away. Her skin burns under my touch. “It’s not.”
I stand, drawing her up with me. Her body fits against mine, all lean muscle and contained power. I breathe her in, one hand sliding into her hair, cradling the back of her head.
“If tomorrow goes wrong,” she whispers against my neck.
“It won’t.” I tilt her face up to mine.
Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer. I lower my mouth to hers, not kissing yet, just sharing breath. Letting her feel the weight of my choice.
Her eyes search mine in the dim light. Close enough to see the gold flecks scatter like sparks.
Her lips part slightly. Waiting.
When our lips finally connect, there’s nothing tentative about it. She kisses like she fights—all in, no hesitation. Her tongue pushes into my mouth, claiming, demanding. I grip her hips, fingers digging hard enough to bruise, and back her against the table. The mug crashes to the floor, forgotten.
“Fuck tomorrow,” she mutters against my mouth, her hands already tearing at my belt. “We have tonight.”
I don’t answer with words. Instead, I lift her onto the table, shoving maps and papers to the floor.
Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me in.
My hands find the hem of her shirt, ripping it over her head and tossing it aside.
Her skin glows pale in the dim light, all lean muscle and battle scars.
She yanks my shirt open, buttons popping across the floor. Her nails rake down my chest, leaving red trails that make me hiss. There’s urgency in every movement—not anger like before, but something deeper. Rawer. The knowledge that dawn might take everything.
“Bedroom,” I growl, though I’m already grinding against her, her heat evident through our clothes.
She shakes her head, bites my lower lip. “Here.”
But I need her on my bed. Need to mark my territory with her scent. I lift her, hands gripping her ass as she locks her ankles behind my back. We stumble down the hallway, mouths never disconnecting, slamming into walls as we go.
I drop her onto the mattress. She’s already shoving her jeans down, kicking them off along with her boots while I strip beside the bed. The moment we’re both naked, she rises to her knees and pushes me backward. I let her. Need to see what she’ll do.
She kneels between my legs, hair falling around her face as she takes my cock in her hand.
The first stroke pulls a groan from deep in my chest. Her eyes flick up to mine, something dangerous and hungry in them.
When her tongue swirls around the tip, licking away the precum gathered there, my hips jerk up involuntarily.
“Nova.” Her name comes out like a warning.
She ignores it, taking her time stroking me, one hand cupping my balls, rolling them gently between her fingers. Then she lowers her mouth, swallowing me in one smooth motion that has me fisting the sheets.
“Fuck,” I growl, fighting for control as she works me with lips and tongue.
Her rhythm is relentless, pushing me toward the edge faster than I want. I tangle my fingers in her hair, tugging lightly, but she resists, doubling her efforts. Her mouth tightens around me, cheeks hollowing as she sucks harder.
“I’m going to come if you don’t stop,” I warn, my voice breaking.
She hums around me, the vibration sending shocks up my spine.
She doesn’t pull back—just takes me deeper.
The sight of her lips stretched around my cock unravels the last of my restraint.
I come hard, pulsing down her throat as she swallows around me.
When she finally pulls back, some spills across her lips and down onto her breasts.
She looks up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and the sight makes me growl again.
My wolf doesn’t need recovery time. My cock is still hard as I pull her up, flipping her onto her back. Her legs spread for me, inviting. I position myself at her entrance, the tip of my cock sliding through her slick folds.
“Now,” she demands, hips lifting to meet me. “Fuck me now.”
I push inside in one hard thrust, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out—part pain, part pleasure—her inner walls clenching around me. I freeze, giving her a moment, but she digs her nails into my ass.
“Don’t you dare go slow,” she hisses.
I answer by withdrawing and slamming back in. Her back arches off the bed. I set a brutal pace, each thrust driving us both higher. The bed frame hits the wall with each movement, creating a rhythm that matches our harsh breathing.
“Harder,” she gasps, legs wrapping tighter around me. “God, just like that—fuck me harder.”
I grip her hips, angling her to hit deeper. “You feel so fucking good,” I groan against her neck. “So wet for me.”
She reaches between us, fingers circling her clit as I pound into her. The sight of her touching herself while I fuck her nearly sends me over the edge again.
“You going to come for me?” I ask, voice rough.
“Yes—I’m close.” Her free hand claws at my back. “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”
I kiss her hard, swallowing her moans as her body tenses. Then she’s coming around me, her pussy clenching my cock in pulsing waves. I keep thrusting, working her through it, watching her face contort with pleasure.
Before I can follow, she pushes at my chest. I withdraw, confused, until she rolls over onto her stomach and lifts her hips.
“Like this,” she says, looking back over her shoulder. “I want to feel you like this.”
I grasp her hips and drive back into her wet heat. From this angle, I can go deeper, hit places that make her moan louder. I lean over her back, one hand braced beside her head, the other reaching around to find her clit.
“Oh God,” she pants as my fingers circle the sensitive bud. “I can’t—it’s too much.”
“You can take it,” I growl in her ear, feeling her tremble beneath me. “Take all of me.”
She pushes back against each thrust, meeting me halfway. The slap of skin against skin fills the room, along with our mingled curses and groans. My control shatters as her inner walls clench around me as she climaxes again.
“I’m coming,” I warn, fingers digging into her hip.
“Inside,” she gasps. “Come inside me.”
The permission breaks me. I slam into her one last time, emptying myself deep inside her with a roar that could wake the whole compound. She collapses beneath me, shuddering through her own release, her pussy milking every drop from my cock.
We stay there, still locked together, her body trembling beneath mine. I brace myself on my forearms, trying to catch my breath, trying not to crush her, but she doesn’t push me away.
Her back rises and falls under my chest, warm and alive. My arms fold around her, and I pull her in, flush against me. She lets me. Doesn’t speak. Just breathes.
I press a kiss to her shoulder, the taste of sweat and salt grounding me.
Eventually, I shift us sideways, pulling her with me. She comes willingly, rolling into my chest, one leg slung over mine, her hand finding its place against my sternum like it’s always belonged there.
Neither of us says the words. We don’t have to.
Sleep takes us slowly. Together.