15. Chapter 15
That afternoon, Nadia found Rhys in the weapons shed. He was cleaning rifles with the same careful precision he brought to everything. His scarred hands moved with practiced ease. But tension rode his shoulders.
She closed the door behind her. The click echoed through the small space.
Rhys looked up, his eyes warming despite the strain in his expression. “Training went well today. Sage said you’ve progressed faster than anyone she’s taught.”
“Don’t.” Nadia crossed her arms. “Don’t deflect with compliments when we both know there’s something between us that neither of us is saying.”
His hands stilled on the rifle. “Nadia, ”
“Why do you keep your distance?” The question came out sharper than she intended. “The bond pulls at me constantly. I feel you in my chest, in my bones. But you stay away except for careful moments that never go anywhere.”
Rhys set the rifle down slowly. “Because I don’t want to cage you.”
“That’s not an answer.” She moved closer, the air taut between them. “You could have me. The mate bond gives you that right in every pack law that exists. But you hold back like touching me would break something.”
“It would.” His voice dropped. “It would break the only thing we built that matters.”
“My choice?” Anger flared hot under her ribs. “I’ve been choosing you since I stayed at Blackridge. Since I moved into the main lodge. Since I kissed you and told you I wasn’t running.”
“I know.” Rhys stood, the joint forcing him to brace against the workbench. “But there’s a difference between choosing not to run and staying because she wanted to. Between accepting the bond and asking her to take on what comes with me.”
Nadia stepped into his space, close enough that his scent wrapped around her. “Then let me make it clear. I want this. I want you. And I need you to stop protecting me from something I’m not afraid of anymore.”
Everything in him stilled. It struck hard enough to register in her teeth.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking.” Rhys’s scarred hand lifted toward her face, then dropped. “Every instinct I have screams at me to claim you. To mark you deep enough that no wolf would ever mistake the answer.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.” She caught his hand, pressing it against her cheek. “That’s the point. I’m choosing to be with you. Not surrendering. Not submitting. Choosing.”
His fingers trembled against her skin. “I’ve spent so long learning to ignore my instincts. The warrior I used to be was dominant and certain and aggressive. He would have hurt you.”
“You’re not that wolf anymore.” Nadia turned her face into his palm. “You showed me that strength doesn’t require dominance.”
Rhys looked down at his leg, at the scar along his jaw that ached when the weather turned. The words came slow. “Because the ambush took things from me I have not found again.”
Nadia tipped her face up to his. “Explain that.”
Rhys swallowed against what wanted to come up next.
He looked away, his jaw tight. “I was a good soldier. Followed orders without question. Believed that alphas led because they were strongest, that omegas needed protection because they were weakest. The whole fucking hierarchy that every pack treats as sacred.”
His hand dropped from her face. “Then Thornwood’s wolves shattered my leg and left me to bleed out. And my own pack, the wolves I’d fought beside for years, looked at me like I was already dead. Like injuries made me worthless.”
The pain in his voice made something crack in Nadia’s chest.
“Jace recruited me because he was building something different. A pack for wolves the system had failed. Who’d learned that strength without accountability is just cruelty in nicer clothes.”
Rhys’s eyes found hers again. “I keep my distance because I remember what it felt like to believe dominance was natural. To think taking what I wanted was my right as an alpha. And I refuse to become that wolf with you.”
Nadia reached for him, her fingers catching the fabric of his shirt. “You think restraint makes you weak. But it’s the strongest thing you’ve ever done.”
“It doesn’t feel strong.” His voice cracked. “It feels like I’m failing you every day. Like you deserve a mate who can shift and run and fight without his body betraying him.”
“I deserve a mate who sees me as a person instead of a prize,” Nadia said. She pressed her palm against his chest, feeling the vibration of him under her palm. “Who gives me space to choose my own pace. Who believes I’m strong enough to decide what I want?”
“I’m choosing you, Rhys.” Her voice steadied. “Not the wolf you were. The man standing in front of me.”
She kissed him. Brief and certain. Then pulled back before either of them could lose themselves in it.
“Not here.” She pressed her open palm against his chest. “Later. After.” “After what?” “After you try.”
Rhys went still. The bond carried her meaning before the words caught up. The shift attempt. What he’d asked for last night. “Nadia, ” “You told me you wanted to see if you could shift again.” She didn’t look away. “I told you I’d be there. So let’s go.”
A familiar ache spiked through his thigh at the thought. The memory of his last failed attempt still burned, the humiliation of reaching for the shift and finding nothing but silence where his wolf should have answered.
“What if nothing happens?” Rhys stood very still.
Nadia watched the war on his face. He’d had this conversation in his head before.
She could see it in him. The version where he told himself it wouldn’t work so didn’t try.
That version was failing him now. “Then nothing happens.” Her hand stayed on his chest. “But you won’t know until you try. ”
They started toward the eastern clearing where the trees opened enough for a wolf to move. Before they reached it, the compound horn sounded. Two short blasts. One long.
They moved fast, Nadia matching his uneven stride through the trees. By the time they reached the main lodge, wolves had gathered in the great hall. Jace stood at the head of the table, a map spread before him. Declan flanked his right. Cade, Jace’s brother, and Theo, Jace’s beta, to his left.
“Thornwood scouts.” Jace’s jaw was tight. “Three of them. Crossed the eastern border an hour ago. Nolan’s team tracked them to the creek crossing before they pulled back. Freya flagged the route correlation. They’re testing the same gap.”
“Deep enough to mark six trees with Thornwood sigils.” Jace’s finger traced a line on the map. “Inside our secondary perimeter. They weren’t scouting. They were sending a message.”
“They’re testing response time.” Rhys studied the map. “Three scouts means they wanted to be found. Wanted us to know they could get that close.”
“There’s more.” Declan set a folded paper on the table. “Nolan found this nailed to the last marked tree.”
Jace unfolded it. Read it once. His expression went blank.
“They’re moving up the timeline.” He set the paper down so the table could see. “Three days. Not seven. They’re demanding Nadia’s return in three days or they’ll petition the council for enforcement action.”
Nadia stood near the back wall. She didn’t speak. Didn’t run. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, but her spine stayed straight.
Theo frowned. “Three days is a clock, not enforcement. Sanctions are still on Jace’s timeline.”
“They don’t need to.” Rhys tapped the map. “They just need a refusal on record.”
Rhys straightened from the map. “The petition is cover for whatever they want to do next.”
“One more thing,” Declan said. “My scouts flagged a pale-eyed wolf in Thornwood’s formations. He’s never in the main line. Watching from the edges. Looks like part of a count.”
Nadia’s wolf raked beneath her skin. Her claws pressed against her fingertips.
Jace looked at her directly. Not with pity. With the steady attention of an alpha assessing a member of his pack.
“Three days.” Jace turned back to the map. His orders came fast. Boundary teams doubled. Runners staged at the ridges. Theo posted the new assignments before anyone could ask twice. The room broke into motion.
Nadia didn’t move from her position near the wall. Her eyes found Rhys across the room.
She felt his focus. Not fear. Something harder. The kind of clarity that came when a tactical mind locked onto a problem it intended to solve.
He crossed to her. Stood close without touching.
“Your eyes changed in that clearing,” Nadia said. “That matters.”
“Three days matters more.”
“Both matter.” She held his gaze. “Because when they come for me, I want you standing. Not just as a strategist. As a wolf.”
His mouth worked around silence. Neither of them named what passed between them.
Then he turned back to the map, and Nadia found a seat at the table.
No one asked her to leave.