10. Chapter 10
The visitor’s scent reached Rhys before the wolf came into view, pine and leather with an undercurrent of something sharp. Political. Alpha energy that carried power without the aggressive posturing that marked insecure males.
Rhys’s teeth ground together. Jace had mentioned the incoming delegation while Rhys was reviewing patrol reports.
Neutral pack. Trade negotiations. But Declan had been chasing this visit since the first scout reports, and Rhys knew the difference between a delegation that came to talk lumber and one that came to collect.
Declan had been reaching across the border since the first scout reports, trading quiet favors for quieter intelligence.
Two of his trade-route brokers in Cedar Junction had flagged the same name twice in three weeks.
Between them, Declan had pieced together what Orion already knew.
Orion’s response had come faster than it should have if Riverbend had been surprised.
Nothing about this felt standard.
His wolf rose fast and sharp. Another alpha near her made his vision narrow.
Days of distance hadn’t dulled it. It had only buried it. And now it wanted blood.
Pathetic.
Rhys dropped his shoulders as the delegation approached. Three wolves.
The alpha in front moved with the easy confidence of someone accustomed to deference. Mid-forties, dark hair silvering at the temples, sharp eyes that took in everything they passed.
Across the yard, Nadia stepped out of the training ring.
The visiting alpha’s gaze lingered on her a second too long.
A low growl rolled through Rhys’s chest before he could swallow it.
The alpha’s eyes flicked toward him.
Noted.
Nadia didn’t belong to Riverbend. And every wolf in the yard just felt that truth settle.
Orion Stone. Riverbend Pack. The territory wedged between Blackridge and Thornwood like a bone between two wolves.
“Alpha Stone.” Jace’s greeting was cordial but measured. “Welcome to Blackridge.”
“Alpha Holbrook.” Orion’s handshake was firm. “Thank you for accommodating us on short notice. The lumber trade discussions shouldn’t take long.”
His gaze swept the compound, taking in the training grounds, the scattered pack members, the defensive positioning of buildings that looked casual but wasn’t. A tactical assessment disguised as curiosity.
Rhys stayed silent, cataloging the visitors’ body language and scent markers.
One of Orion’s wolves was young, eager, broadcasting his nervousness through fidgeting hands and darting eyes.
The other was older, scarred, watching everything with the measured stillness of a male who’d survived things that left marks.
Orion himself moved like a wolf counting cards. Sixty miles of shared border with Thornwood made him either an enemy or an investor, and investors always showed up before the price changed.
“My tactical advisor, Rhys Alston.” Jace’s introduction pulled Rhys forward.
Orion’s gaze sharpened as he took in Rhys’s scars, the careful way the man held his weight off the ruined leg. Recognition flickered, not of Rhys specifically, but of what he represented. A warrior rebuilt around damage.
“Advisor.” Orion’s nod held respect. “I’ve heard of your work. Impressive defensive strategies.”
His gaze lingered on Rhys’s limp. “My father used to say that the most dangerous wolf in any pack is the one who’s already lost everything he was afraid to lose.”
Across the yard, Nadia stepped away from the training ring.
Rhys moved without thinking. One step toward her. Then he stopped himself.
Distance. Choice. He forced both.
“Thank you.” Rhys gave the words back flat. Compliments from visiting alphas always carried subtext.
The wind shifted.
Nadia’s scent rolled toward him.
Sweet. Warm. His.
Orion’s nostrils flared. His entire body went still with the predatory focus of a wolf catching prey scent. His head turned slowly toward the tree line where Nadia’s cabin sat hidden from view.
Rhys noticed something else. Orion wasn’t surprised. He was confirming something he already knew.
Rhys’s wolf hackled, clawing at his control with sudden violence. Every instinct screamed to position himself between Orion and that scent, to eliminate the threat before it could form.
He didn’t move. Couldn’t. Not without revealing exactly how much that particular omega meant to him.
“Interesting.” “You’re sheltering a runaway.”
The words dropped like stones into still water. Ripples spread outward.
Rhys didn’t answer immediately. The visitor knew too much already. Which meant someone had talked.
The bounty notices. Rhys had seen them himself, pinned at every trade crossing for two hundred miles. Orion hadn’t needed spies. Just a nose and a shared border.
Jace’s shoulders tensed. The younger wolf’s eyes widened. Rhy’s hand drifted toward his weapon.
“We shelter many wolves seeking refuge.” Jace’s tone remained level. “Blackridge’s sanctuary policy is well established.”
“Of course.” Orion’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Though I wonder if you’re aware of whose property you’re harboring.”
Property. The word gutted him. His vision tunneled.
The work of staying still instead of launching himself at Orion’s throat showed in the white of his knuckles.
He named the cost out to himself the way Sage had taught him: move now, and Jace loses the room.
Stand still, and Nadia keeps a pack at her back.
“Blackridge recognizes no wolf as property.” Jace’s voice went cold. “Perhaps we should clarify that before continuing negotiations.”
Orion raised his hands. “A figure of speech.” He paused. “But the omega you’re sheltering fled Thornwood. They’ve been offering bounties for months. Their notices reach my trade routes before their patrols cross my border.”
That was too precise. Not rumor. Not politics. Information.
Rhys’s hands curled into fists. Nadia. They were hunting Nadia with bounties and promises, turning her survival into a transaction.
“We don’t trade in information about refugees.” Jace’s words carried alpha command. “Nor do we respond to pressure from packs who believe wolves can be owned.”
A growl leaked from Rhys’s chest, low and unmistakable. Orion’s gaze cut to him, reassessing.
“Admirable.” Orion’s tone stayed level despite the growl still rattling between them. “Thornwood’s been waiting for an excuse to come after you. You just handed them one.”
The truth of it settled like ice in Rhys’s chest.
He’d known the risk. But hearing it said aloud by a wolf who’d carry it to every territory between here and Thornwood.
He should have seen it. He hadn’t.
“Thank you for the warning.” “Though I’m curious why you’re sharing this information rather than collecting whatever reward Thornwood is offering.”
Orion’s expression shifted. Not softer. Sharper.
“Thornwood’s bounty hunters crossed my trade routes three times last spring.
Cost me two scouts and a yearling. Garrett swore his pack had nothing to do with it.
” He paused. “And sixty miles of shared border with Thornwood. When they finish with Blackridge, Riverbend is what comes next. Simple math.”
He met Jace’s gaze directly. “This isn’t charity. It’s strategy. But the result is the same. Others will recognize her scent eventually. And not all of them will share my reasons for warning you first.”
Orion paused at the door. “One more thing. Flag your scouts for masked Thornwood wolves. Juniper and river-wash. They’re running ghosts now.”
The delegation left thirty minutes later, trade negotiations postponed pending “further consideration of political climate.” Rhys watched them disappear into the trees.
Orion’s last detail hadn’t been news. But hearing it spoken aloud by an outside alpha turned a rumor into a confirmed weapon.
The question now was where Thornwood would land next.
“My office.” Jace’s tone softened. Too quiet.“Now.”
Frost Hollow’s lumber shipments stopped by nightfall. Riverbend closed the southern pass by morning.
Rhys limped through the lodge’s corridors, each step sending fire through his leg. The adrenaline that had kept him standing during Orion’s visit was fading, leaving pain and exhaustion in its wake.
And underneath, terror. Raw and consuming.
Nadia would run. The moment she learned her presence had been identified, that Thornwood had justification to pressure Blackridge, that staying put the pack at risk, she would disappear into the wilderness and never look back.
The mate bond twisted sharp enough to steal breath.
Jace closed the office door behind them. “Tell me about the bond.”
Not a question. Not a request.
Rhys looked away. “You know.”
“I’ve known since the moment she walked into the compound and you looked like someone had driven a blade between your ribs.” Jace moved to the window, his back to Rhys. “What I don’t know is why you’ve been hiding it?”
“So you’ve been suffering in silence while she heals.” Jace turned. “Noble. Stupid, but noble.”
Rhys pressed his palms hard against the table until wood creaked beneath them.
“What would you have me do? Force the bond on her? Claim her before she’s ready? She’s been brutalized, Jace. She wakes up screaming from nightmares about being touched. The mate bond doesn’t erase that.”
“No. But distance doesn’t heal it either.”
The truth of it burned. Rhys had been so focused on not pushing Nadia that he hadn’t considered whether his absence might hurt more than his presence.
“Orion’s visit changes things.” Jace’s jaw tightened. “Thornwood will starve us through the council. Trade first, then passage, then every ally who can’t afford to be seen helping us. A week, maybe two, before we’re standing on our own ground with no borders open to anyone we trust.”
Rhys’s stomach dropped. “You’re going to ask her to leave.”