Chapter 6
The drive to the pack house didn’t take long.
Log cabin-style houses dotted the landscape along the way, each one nestled among the trees like they’d grown there naturally.
Some were small and cozy, others sprawling and grand, but they all shared that same rustic aesthetic—wood and stone and huge windows that let in the forest light. ?
The pack house itself was impossible to miss.
A massive log building that rose five stories high, with enormous windows that reflected the afternoon sun.
It was beautiful in a way that made my chest ache.
Solid. Permanent. The kind of place that had been here for generations and would be here for generations more.
We parked in a gravel lot beside the building, and I climbed out of the car on shaky legs. My professional mask was firmly in place, but underneath, my heart was racing.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been here before.
Not just in this area—I’d grown up nearby, after all. But here. This building. Something about it tugged at the edges of my memory, familiar in a way I couldn’t quite place.
“Ready?” Nina asked, and I nodded, following her and Nate toward the entrance.
The moment we stepped inside, people started greeting them. A young woman with dark hair waved from across the lobby. Two men in their thirties stopped their conversation to nod respectfully at Nate. An older woman smiled warmly at Nina and pulled her into a quick hug.
Everyone was friendly. Welcoming. The kind of casual warmth that came from a tight-knit community.
And I felt like an outsider looking in.
“Let me give you the quick tour,” Nina said, looping her arm through mine. “First floor is pretty straightforward—dining hall is through those double doors, entertainment room is down that hallway, and there are a few sitting rooms scattered around for meetings or just hanging out.”
I nodded, taking it all in. The space was open and airy, with high ceilings and exposed beams. Everything was wood and stone, warm and inviting.
“Second floor is where all the offices are,” Nina continued as we headed toward a wide staircase. “Third and fourth floors are rooms for pack members and visitors. And the top floor is reserved for the alpha, beta, and gamma—they have apartments up there.”
We climbed the stairs, and I focused on breathing. On keeping my expression neutral and professional. On not thinking about why my hands were trembling.
The second floor was quieter, more businesslike. A long hallway stretched out before us, with doors on either side. At the far end, I could see a reception area.
We walked toward it, and I noticed the woman sitting behind the desk. Late twenties, blonde hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, sharp eyes that tracked our approach.
Her gaze landed on me, and her expression cooled. Not hostile, exactly, but definitely not friendly. She looked me up and down, her lip curling slightly, before turning her attention to Nate.
“We’re here to see the alpha,” Nate said, his tone polite but firm.
The woman’s eyes glazed over for a moment—mindlinking, I realized—and then she blinked and refocused. “You can go in,” she said, her voice clipped.
I followed Nina and Nate down the hallway, my heart pounding so hard I was sure they could hear it. We stopped in front of a door with a simple brass nameplate: Alpha.
Nate knocked once, then opened the door.
Nina went in first. Then Nate. And then me, bringing up the rear.
I didn’t notice the office. Didn’t register the furniture or the décor or the massive windows that overlooked the forest.
All I saw was the man standing up from behind the desk.
He was older. Broader in the shoulders, sharper in the jaw. His dark hair was a little longer than I remembered, and there was a confidence in the way he carried himself that hadn’t been there before.
But it was him.
Ryder.
My childhood best friend. The boy who’d saved me in the woods. The teenager who’d kissed me under the stars and then broken my heart.
The man I’d been in love with my entire life.
I stood there, frozen, as the world tilted sideways.
Ryder is a wolf shifter.
The thought crashed through me like a tidal wave, and suddenly everything made sense. The way he’d always been so protective. The growl in his voice when he’d beaten up that guy at the party.
He wasn’t just a shifter.
He was the Alpha of Edgewood Pack.
I could hear Nate saying something—introducing me, maybe, or explaining why we were here—but the words didn’t register. My brain was too busy reeling, too busy trying to process the impossible reality standing in front of me.
Ryder.
Here.
Alpha.
A sharp pinch on my arm jolted me back to reality.
“Ow,” I hissed, turning to glare at Nina.
“Sorry,” she whispered, leaning close. “But you kind of zoned out there.”
I blinked, suddenly aware that everyone was staring at me. Nate looked concerned. Nina looked worried. And Ryder—
Ryder was watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I forced myself to move. To walk further into the room. To slip on the professional mask I’d spent two years perfecting.
Ryder had stepped around the desk and was standing in the middle of the room now, his hands loose at his sides. Waiting.
I stopped about three feet away from him and bowed my head—a sign of respect in shifter culture.
“Thank you for having me as a guest of your pack, Alpha,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me.
I looked up, and his eyes locked onto mine.
Did he remember me? Maybe not. It had been five years. People changed. Maybe I was just another human to him now.
But then he spoke.
“I’d like to ask Emily some questions in private.”
His voice was deeper than I remembered. Rougher. But it was still his voice, and hearing it say my name made something inside me crack.
Nina glanced at me, one eyebrow raised in silent question. I shrugged, trying to look unconcerned even though my stomach was doing somersaults.
Nate and Nina both bowed their heads respectfully. Nate took Nina’s hand, and they started toward the door.
Nina paused, turning back to look at me. “We’ll be downstairs in the dining hall when you’re done,” she said, her tone gentle.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
The door closed behind them with a soft click, and suddenly I was alone with Ryder.
He didn’t move. Just stood there, staring at me like he was trying to memorize every detail of my face.
I fidgeted with my sleeve, then reached up to touch the necklace at my throat. The delicate silver chain, the small pendant shaped like a crescent moon. He’d given it to me for my fourteenth birthday, and I’d never taken it off.
“I’m surprised you kept the necklace.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I froze, my fingers still on the pendant. My heart was racing, my breath coming too fast.
He remembered.
Of course he remembered.
I dropped my hand, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “It’s a reminder of better times,” I said quietly.
The words came out sharper than I’d intended, but I couldn’t take them back. Couldn’t soften the edge of bitterness that crept into my voice.
I looked away, focusing on the bookshelf behind him. The window. The floor. Anywhere but his face.
I heard him move, and then he was right in front of me. Close enough that I could smell him—pine and earth and it made my head spin.
He reached out and touched the necklace, his fingers brushing against my collarbone as he lifted the pendant. He stared at it for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
Then he dropped it and looked at me instead.
I looked down, unable to hold his gaze.
His fingers caught my chin, tilting my head up until I had no choice but to meet his eyes.
The moment his skin touched mine, I felt it.
Tingles.
Electric and warm and impossible to ignore, spreading from the point of contact through my entire body.
At first, I thought it was static electricity. But the sensation didn’t fade. It grew stronger, more insistent, until I could barely think past it.
And then I realized.
I’d always felt this with him.
Every time he’d touched me—holding my hand when we were kids, steadying me when I stumbled, pulling me close at that party—I’d felt these tingles. I just hadn’t understood what they meant.
But I understood now.
Mates.
The word echoed through my mind, and everything clicked into place.
Ryder was my mate.
And he’d always known.
Shifters could sense their mates once they got their wolf, usually around ten to twelve years old. Ryder had been ten or eleven when we met. Which meant he’d known from the very beginning.
He’d known, and he’d never said anything.
He’d known, and he’d left anyway.
He’d known, and he’d come back with another girl.
The realization hit me like a freight train, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
There was only one reason he wouldn’t have told me. Only one reason he would have walked away.
He hadn’t wanted me.
Pain lanced through my chest, sharp and brutal, and I stepped back, pulling away from his touch.
“Emily—”
“Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. My eyes were burning, and I blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall.
“We need to talk,” he said, taking a step toward me.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I backed away, and he followed, matching me step for step.
My back hit the door, and I had nowhere left to go.
Ryder closed the distance between us, planting his hands on either side of my head, caging me in. His body was so close I could feel the heat radiating off him, could see the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.
His hands moved to my hips, gripping firmly, and I gasped.
Then he bent his head, his face disappearing into the crook of my neck, and inhaled.
I felt his breath against my skin, warm and deliberate, right over the spot where a wolf would mark his mate.
My knees went weak.
The scent of him surrounded me, overwhelming and intoxicating. Pine and earth that called to every cell in my body.
I wasn’t a shifter. I didn’t have a wolf. But the mate bond didn’t care about species. It worked both ways, pulling us together with a force that felt inevitable.
Ryder’s grip on my hips tightened, and he pulled me flush against him. I felt every hard plane of his body, felt the unmistakable evidence of his arousal as he ground his hips against mine.
A moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.
He kissed my neck, right over that sensitive spot, and I moaned again, my hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders.
Part of me loved this. Craved it. Wanted to sink into the sensation and never come up for air.
But another part—the part that remembered the pain, the abandonment, the girl with her arm around his waist—was disgusted with myself for giving in so easily.
I grabbed onto that feeling, using it to fuel my strength as I pushed against his chest.
He was bigger than me. Stronger. The push didn’t move him an inch.
But it was enough to pull him back to reality.
“What the hell, Ryder,” I snapped, shoving at him again. “Let me go.”
“Sorry, Em,” he said, his voice rough. “I couldn’t resist your scent.”
Em.
The old nickname hit me like a slap, and my anger flared hotter.
“Let. Me. Go.”
This time, he did. His hands fell away from my hips, though he didn’t step back. He just stood there, close enough to touch, watching me with those dark, unreadable eyes.
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him, trying to ignore the way my body was still humming from his touch.
Ryder ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “Will you sit?” he asked, gesturing toward the couch against the far wall.
“Do I have a choice?”
He stepped back, giving me space, but placed his hand on the door. The gesture was clear: you don’t have a choice.
I walked over to the couch and sat down on one end, as far from him as possible. He sat on the other end, angling his body toward mine.
“I’m sorry, Em,” he said quietly. “I am really sorry.”
“And what exactly are you sorry for?” I asked, my voice cold.
“I’m sure you’ve realized already that we’re mates.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Yes, I’ve known since I saved you in the woods when we were kids,” he continued. “But I couldn’t tell you.”
“So you were never going to tell me?” The words came out sharper than I’d intended, but I didn’t care.
“It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it for me, then.”
He sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “This was before the announcement. When I left for alpha training.”
“Of course you lied about that,” I said bitterly.
“It was easier to tell you I was going to college,” he admitted.
“When I left for alpha training, they were already talking about coming out to the public about our existence. And at that time, most packs were not happy about it. Unfortunately, I got in with the wrong crowd there.
Extremists who didn’t like humans and thought mating with non-shifters made us weak.”
My stomach twisted.
“It made me doubt our bond,” he said, his voice low. “And by the end of the two years, I believed them. I came back and told my parents I was going to reject you.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I felt the air leave my lungs, felt the sting of tears I refused to let fall.
He’d wanted to reject me.
“You know how much my parents love you,” Ryder continued. “They were surprised and not happy. They believe in true mates. I got into a huge fight with them about it and ended up at that stupid party where you saw me.”
The image flashed through my mind—the blonde girl with her arm around his waist, his arm around her shoulders, the way the kiss they shared.
“I’m sorry, Emily, that you had to see that,” he said, and for the first time, I heard genuine regret in his voice. “After I saw you, I realized my parents were right about true mates. I could never reject you.”
He turned to look at me, his expression nervous. Vulnerable.
“I want you as my mate, Emily.”
I stared at him, completely shocked.
This wasn’t where I’d thought this conversation was going.
“Em?”
“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said quickly. “But will you think about being my mate before rejecting me?”
I nodded, still too stunned to form coherent thoughts.
He’d known I was his mate. He’d wanted to reject me. And now he wanted me back.
“Can I leave now?” I asked, my voice small.
Ryder looked hurt, but he nodded.
I stood up, my legs shaky, and walked toward the door. My hand was on the handle when I heard him say my name one more time.
I didn’t turn around.
I opened the door and ran.
Down the hallway. Down the stairs. Past the people in the lobby who turned to stare. Out the front doors and into the parking lot.
I didn’t stop until I was on the road, walking aimlessly, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I looked like a crazy person. I didn’t care.
I just needed to get the fuck out of there.
I needed to think.