5. Chapter 5
The morning air cut through Nadia’s stolen coat like a blade.
She’d been awake since before dawn, her body refusing rest despite the exhaustion that made her bones ache.
Four days, and she’d counted the rotation.
Two wolves on the eastern arc, a single scout swinging wide at the ridge, none of them moving like they were closing on her.
It hadn’t made her any less afraid.
She eased off the injured side against the cave wall, the pain a constant reminder of how far she’d fallen. Six years of running, of hiding, of surviving just long enough to keep running.
Movement at the tree line made her freeze.
Two wolves emerged from the forest, one massive gray male, one smaller russet female. They moved with the casual confidence of pack wolves on their own territory, their body language relaxed until they caught her scent.
Both wolves stopped. Their heads lifted, nostrils flaring.
Every muscle in Nadia locked. She pressed deeper into the cave, pain flaring through her hip. Too exposed. Too visible.
She should have moved during the night, should have kept running instead of letting warm bread and careful distance lull her into the kind of stillness that always ended in being caught.
The gray wolf shifted first.
The transformation rippled through him with practiced ease, leaving a broad-shouldered man in his mid-thirties standing in the snow. Dark hair, strong features, the kind of contained power that made Nadia’s wolf want to submit or flee, she’d never been able to decide which.
The female shifted a moment later. Petite and athletic, with light blonde hair that caught the early light. She pulled clothes from a pack at the tree line and dressed quickly, her movements efficient.
Every Blackridge wolf kept a pack like that. Clothes, a knife, sometimes a folded note. Caches set at the tree line before patrol, recovered after shift. Nothing survived a shift on the body. What you wanted to keep, you left where the shift began.
Neither of them approached the cave.
“Nadia.” The male’s voice carried across the distance, steady and clear.
She went rigid. They knew her name.
“My name is Jace Holbrook. This is Maren.” He gestured toward the blonde. “We’re from Blackridge.” He let the name settle.
Behind them, the scarred wolf eased closer.
Nadia felt his gaze before she saw it. Not hungry. Not entitled. Waiting.
“We’re not here to restrain you or force you anywhere. We’re here to give you information so you can make an informed decision.”
Maren stepped forward, just one step, her hands visible and empty. The Luna’s calm carried across the space between them like a hand held out.
“Garrett sent scouts across the neutral border two hours ago,” Jace said, his voice steady.
“Thornwood is searching the region for an escaped omega. We don’t know yet if you’re the one they’re looking for.
But Declan’s scouts caught one of theirs breaking off and holding the eastern tree line longer than he should have.
Pale-eyed. Watching, not approaching. Whoever he was, he wanted to see what Blackridge would do. ”
The ground gave a slow lurch beneath Nadia’s feet.
Thornwood. The name alone made bile rise in her throat. She’d crossed through their territory three months ago, barely escaping when their Alpha’s Beta had decided a rogue omega would make a fine addition to his collection.
She’d seen the notices herself. Nailed to trade posts in three different territories, ink still fresh.
Thornwood couriers rode the trade routes; every roadside marker that took a notice meant another pack told to look.
Omega female, unclaimed, fled without release.
Reward offered. Her description had been clinical.
Height, weight, coloring, the scar on her left forearm from the night she’d finally pushed back.
“You have options.” Jace’s tone stayed calm, matter-of-fact.
“You can leave immediately, head north or west, put distance between yourself and their search pattern. Declan will give you a route and rations. Or you can come to the main lodge, where we can discuss what protection Blackridge might offer and what that would look like.”
“If you run now, you’ll be on your own against trained trackers in territory you don’t know. If you come to the lodge, we can offer shelter, food, medical attention for that hip, and time to think.”
Something turned her face toward Blackridge a little harder each day. An ache beneath her ribs. It made no sense given what she knew about packs and males and the price of trust.
The scarred wolf would be at the lodge.
The thought surfaced unbidden, immediate. Rhys. His name was Rhys, and the pull toward him sharpened with an intensity that terrified her.
“How long do I have?” Her words rasped rough and unused. The first words she’d spoken to another wolf since she ran.
“Thornwood’s scouts are fast.” Jace glanced at Maren, some silent communication passing between them. “If they pick up your trail, maybe an hour. Maybe less.”
She pressed her hands open against her thighs, hating the visible weakness.
“The lodge has multiple exits.” Maren’s observation was quiet, like she’d read Nadia’s thoughts. “Ground floor, clear sight lines to the forest. We’re not trying to trap you. We’re trying to give you a real chance instead of just reacting.”
And now Thornwood was coming, and running meant being alone against trained wolves who knew how to hunt omegas.
Nadia pushed to her feet, ignoring the sharp protest from her hip. Something inside her leaned hard against her ribs, not fear this time, but something else. Something that wanted to look back.
“If I come to the lodge—” She forced the words past the tightness in her throat. “If I decide I want to leave, no one stops me?”
But she’d watched. Four days of careful observation, and not once had Blackridge demanded anything in return.
Maybe not all packs were the same.
The thought was dangerous. Seductive. The kind of hope that got wolves killed.
Nadia gathered the supplies Rhys had left, her movements mechanical. The thick coat. The fleece-lined pants. The socks that had kept her feet from freezing during the night.
The walk took fifteen minutes. Jace and Maren stayed ahead of her, their pace measured to accommodate her limp. They didn’t try to help. Didn’t offer to carry her pack. Just maintained distance while keeping her in sight, like they understood that assistance would feel like restraint.
The forest opened into a clearing. The main lodge rose from the snow, large but not ostentatious, built from local timber with wide windows that let in morning light.
Smoke curled from the chimney. The scent of coffee and bacon drifted on the air, making Nadia’s stomach clench with hunger despite the fear.
Pack wolves moved around the clearing. Some shifted to human form as they noticed her. Others stayed in wolf form, their body language curious but not aggressive. No one approached. No one demanded she submit or show her throat or prove she wasn’t a threat.
They just watched, waiting.
“Main entrance is there.” Maren pointed to the wide double doors. “Kitchen’s to the left if you need food. Jace’s office is upstairs, second door on the right. That’s where we’ll talk if you want to discuss what comes next.”
Maren tipped her head toward the kitchen. “Coffee is real here. Not river water and hope.” Her mouth curved, quick and small, like she meant it as a lifeline.
Nadia blinked once. A laugh almost happened, then got stuck. But the tightness under her ribs eased a little.
Nadia’s wolf nudged at her, searching the clearing. Looking for a specific scent, a particular presence. The scarred male who’d watched over her for four days without making demands.
Footsteps on the porch boards.
Rhys emerged, his gait uneven and careful.
He’d changed clothes since yesterday, clean jeans, a dark henley that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders.
The scars across his face caught the morning light, a map of violence survived.
His dark eyes swept the clearing and locked on her with immediate, absolute focus.
The ground went unsteady under her boots.
Heat punched through her chest, so sharp she almost doubled over.
Her wolf lunged for him, claws scraping the inside of her skin.
Mine.
The word wasn’t thought. It was instinct.
Her wolf drove forward with enough force to steal the breath from her lungs. Mine. Not thought. Not choice. Recognition older than either.
Mate.
The word echoed through her mind with devastating certainty. Not a decision. Just truth, undeniable and absolute.
No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not now.
Not when she’d barely survived, when trust was a foreign concept and touch meant pain and the thought of belonging to anyone made her want to claw her own skin off.
Rhys had gone completely still on the lodge steps. His chest rose and fell with careful breaths, his hands clenched at his sides. The expression on his face was raw, recognition and desire, and underneath, something that looked almost like grief.
Recognition rolled off him in a wave.
Nadia’s vision blurred. She took a step back, her hip jolting with pain. Another step.
“Nadia.” His voice was low, grounding. “You’re safe. Nothing has to happen right now.”
But everything was happening. Every nerve she had wanted to cross the snow. To press in. To breathe him in. It was a need so total it had no name and no language; it was just the fact of her body wanting to be against his.
But everything was happening. Her body tilted toward him over the snow. Toward closing the distance. Toward breathing him. Toward the safety of being claimed by a wolf who kept letting her choose.
Rhys moved first. He descended the steps slowly, his limp pronounced.
Each step looked like it cost him, the injured side dragging behind.
He stopped ten feet away, the same distance he’d kept when he’d left supplies, then knelt slowly.
Something in his chest pulled tight a half-second before his mind named it, a low recognition his body knew first.
“Nadia.” Her name in his voice made her wolf stir. “You don’t have to—” He stopped, his jaw working. “This doesn’t change anything. The door’s still yours.”
Even now, even with the mate bond blazing between them, he was giving her space. The bond reached for her without grasping. A pull, not a leash.
Something in Nadia’s chest cracked.
“I felt it.” The words escaped before she could stop them. “The moment I saw you, I felt found.”
“I know.” His voice strained. “I felt it too.”
They stared at each other across ten feet of snow-covered ground.
Something deep beneath her sternum strained toward him, ached, demanded things Nadia didn’t know how to give.
She wanted to close the distance. Her body wanted to run.
Her mind couldn’t process any of it. For Rhys, the recognition arrived in pieces, the warmth low in his sternum he had been refusing to name for hours, a scent that fit grooves in his memory he had not known he carried.
“Come inside.” Jace’s voice broke the moment. “Get warm. Get food. Then we’ll talk about Thornwood and what happens next.”
Nadia’s legs shook. The injury still burned beneath her ribs. Exhaustion made her bones feel hollow.
Nadia took a step toward the lodge. Another. The space between them stretched, then settled as she moved toward him instead of away.
She kept her eyes on the stairs as she passed. Couldn’t.
But she felt his presence like heat against her skin as she climbed the steps. Felt his gaze tracking her movement. Felt the way his wolf called to hers with patient, devastating certainty.
The lodge doors closed behind her, and the floor felt unsteady under her boots, the way ice felt the second before it gave.