8. Chapter 8
The moon hung low over Blackridge’s eastern boundary. Rhys moved through the trees with careful precision, favoring the side that held.
Three hours into his patrol. Third neutral-pack crossing this week. Wolves he didn’t recognize lingering near the borders.
And on Thornwood’s side, barely visible against the tree line, a shape that hadn’t been there an hour ago. Still as stone. The scout’s scent was thinner than it should have been at this distance. Juniper sharp underneath.
Someone in Thornwood was teaching the trick. The lodge had a counter-protocol drafted. They were prepping for something.
“You’re doing it again.”
Rhys turned, his hand dropping to the knife at his belt before recognition hit. Theo emerged from the shadows, moving with the easy grace of a wolf who’d never had his body broken and rebuilt wrong.
“Doing what?” Rhys kept his voice low.
“Pretending you’re on patrol when you’re really just circling her like a lovesick pup.” Theo, who punctuated bad news with a low whistle through his teeth, stopped ten feet away, his expression unreadable. “How long are you going to keep this up?”
“I’m maintaining security—” Rhys began.
“You’re torturing yourself.” Theo’s voice was hollow. “And lying about why.”
Rhys looked away once. The break in his thigh complained low and steady, where muscle and tendon had been shredded and stitched back together into something functional but wrong. “She needs space.”
“She needs her mate.”
The words carved into him. Rhys turned away, staring through the trees toward the cabin he couldn’t see from here but could map in his sleep. “She needs someone who can protect her properly. Someone who isn’t—” He stopped, the words catching in his throat.
“Broken?” Theo finished.
Silence stretched between them. Wind moved through the pines, and her scent hit him without warning. Warm honey and sleep-heated skin carrying through the frost-laced air like the cabin had exhaled.
His entire body locked. Heat flooded low in his gut. His wolf didn’t claw. It lunged, slamming against his control with a need so raw it blurred the line between protective and possessive.
His fingers dug into his own thigh. His cock hardened so fast it hurt, and he hated himself for it.
She was fifty yards away, terrified of males, probably sleeping with a knife under her pillow. And his body didn’t care. His body wanted to cross that distance and press his face to her throat and breathe her in until his lungs ached.
Theo stayed silent. His voice carried an edge Rhys rarely heard when he finally spoke. “You know what I did before I came to Blackridge?”
Rhys looked at him. Theo stood with his hands loose at his sides, his posture deceptively relaxed. But something sharp lived in his eyes.
“I was a soldier,” Theo continued. “Good at it too. Fast, strong, ruthless when I needed to be. I could take down three wolves before they knew I’d moved.” He paused. “Then I met Lena.”
Rhys knew the story. Everyone in Blackridge knew pieces of it. Theo’s mate, dead before they’d bonded. The grief that had nearly destroyed him.
“I thought I was perfect for her.” Something moved through Theo’s face.
“Strong enough to protect her from anything. Fast enough to keep her safe.” His expression went distant.
“Turned out none of that mattered. Because the thing that killed her wasn’t something I could fight.
It was an aneurysm. A weakness in her brain that ruptured while she slept. ”
“It’s exactly the same.” “You think Nadia needs the warrior you were. But she doesn’t. She’s been around warriors her whole life. Strong, fast, dangerous males who used their strength to hurt her.”
“What she needs,” Theo said, “is somebody who’s been broken and chose gentleness anyway. Not somebody perfect. Somebody who knows what surrender costs and won’t ask it of her.”
“I can’t—” Rhys stopped, his leg screaming as he shifted weight. “I can’t even walk without limping. My wolf hasn’t shown up in two years. If Thornwood comes for her, if she needs someone who can actually defend her—”
“I’m in love with her.” The admission escaped before he could stop it. “I’ve barely spoken to her, and I’m already so far gone I can’t think straight.”
Theo waited a long moment before answering.
Rhys looked at him sharply. “How—”
“Because I’ve been watching you watch her.” Theo’s expression softened slightly. “And because I remember what it felt like. That moment when you realize it isn’t just instinct, it’s recognition. Like something in you had already chosen her before the rest of you caught up.”
“You start by being honest.” Theo’s expression softened. “You’ve already chosen her, Rhys. The moment you left those supplies at the boundary. Every night you’ve patrolled her perimeter instead of sleeping.”
“Go home.” Theo crossed his arms. “Get some sleep. The pretense isn’t fooling anyone.”
“I can’t—”
“You can.” Theo’s tone was firm. “You can stop hiding. Let her see you’re struggling too. Trust that she’s strong enough to see your damage and choose you anyway.”
“You need to let her in.” Theo’s voice dropped. “Even if it’s just a crack. Even if it terrifies you.”
He’d already chosen her. Now he just needed to let her know it.
“Thank you.” The word came rough.
Theo’s expression softened. “I failed Lena. I didn’t get the chance to fight for what we could have had.” His voice went rough. “Don’t make my mistake. Don’t let fear steal what you’ve been given.”
He left before Rhys could respond, disappearing into the shadows with practiced ease.
He thought of Nadia’s face when she’d seen the knife he’d left. The way her hands trembled as she’d held it. The note she’d tucked under her pillow, he’d seen it through the window during his patrol, the paper worn soft from repeated reading.
Rhys turned toward home, the limp catching at every stride. But today the pain felt like something he could work with instead of something that defined him.
Tomorrow, he’d let her see him. Really see him. The wolf who loved her anyway.