Chapter 18
Nadia
The room is exactly how I left it three days ago. Not my room anymore. I resigned, walked away, stopped being Aurora. But Viktor’s guards brought me here anyway. Guest quarters would have made more sense. Neutral ground. Instead, they put me back in the space I occupied before.
My old bed. My old desk. My old window overlooking the mountain range.
Like I never left.
But everything has shifted. I’m not the same person who walked out of that Council meeting.
I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at nothing. The wolf inside me whines. Confined. Caged. Just like—
I cut the thought off. Can’t think about Jericho, who’s sitting in actual confinement. Can’t think about suppression fields and concrete cells and what they’re doing to him. Can’t think about the fact that watching them take him felt like losing something vital.
My hands clench in my lap. The room feels too small. Too familiar. Too full of memories from before—when Chance was gone, but my purpose was clear, when I knew exactly who I was.
Before my heat cycle flared for a dragon. Before my wolf decided he was our mate. Before I stopped understanding myself.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Nadia?” Mara’s voice. “It’s Ember and me. We’re coming in.”
The door opens before I can respond. Typical Mara—asking permission as a formality, not an actual question. She enters first, Ember right behind her. Both looking at me with expressions I can’t quite read.
Concern. Curiosity. Something else.
“Okay,” Mara says, closing the door and leaning against it. “Everyone’s talking. Half the facility has theories. We want the real story.”
I should have expected this. Aurora’s a small community.
News travels fast. Nadia Frost resigned, disappeared, came back with Commander Jericho Allon.
And Viktor walked in on— Maybe that part hasn’t done the rounds yet.
Viktor is the soul of discretion. Though I’m pretty sure that anyone could see that something had happened between us.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, keeping my voice flat. Professional. “The Syndicate attacked the convoy. We survived. I brought him back.”
“That’s the basic report,” Mara says. “What about the rest?”
“There is no rest.”
“Nadia.” Ember moves closer and stops a few feet away. Her nose works slightly—picking up the air. Reading what I can’t hide. Her eyes widen. “You smell like dragon,” she says quietly.
Heat floods my face. “It’s just—we were in close quarters for two days. Of course I—”
“No.” Ember shakes her head. “Not ‘you were near a dragon.’ You smell like dragon. All over you. Under your skin.” Her gaze intensifies. “Intimate.”
Mara pushes off the door. Crosses to stand beside Ember. Studies me with sharp eyes that miss nothing. Then she sees it.
“Is that a bite mark?” She’s staring at my neck. “Nadia, is that a bite mark?”
My hand flies up to cover it. Too late. They’ve both seen.
“It’s nothing.”
“That’s not nothing.” Mara’s voice shifts—less teasing, more serious. “That’s a claiming mark. That’s—” She stops. Processing. “You slept with him. You slept with Jericho Allon.”
“No!” The word comes out too fast. Too defensive. “We didn’t… It didn’t get that far.”
“But you wanted to,” Ember says. Not a question.
I can’t answer. Can’t confirm what they already know from my silence.
Mara sinks down to sit beside me on the bed. “Holy shit, Nadia.”
“It’s not—” I start. Stop. Don’t know how to finish.
“What happened out there?” Ember asks. Gentler now. Concerned rather than interrogating.
The defenses I’ve been holding crack. Maybe it’s exhaustion. Maybe it’s the weight of carrying this alone. Maybe it’s just that they’re my friends and I need someone to understand, even if I don’t understand myself.
“I don’t know what’s happening.” The confession escapes before I can stop it. “I went there to kill him. I planned it. Every detail. Exactly how I’d do it. What I’d say. How it would feel.”
“But you didn’t,” Mara says.
“I couldn’t. The Syndicate attacked, and I fought them and saved him, and then I couldn’t kill an unconscious man, and—” I stop.
“Breathe,” says Mara. “You’re going to hyperventilate if you don’t get oxygen to your brain.” She waits as I inhale deliberately. “Okay. So what happened next?”
“Then a storm trapped us. And we survived together. And I—” My throat tightens. “I can’t explain it.”
“Try,” Ember says. Sits on my other side.
“My heat cycle flared.”
Silence.
Then Mara: “Your what?”
Right. Human. Doesn’t know wolf shifter biology.
My cheeks burn hotter. “Heat cycle. It’s part of— Wolves have a reproductive cycle. When it hits, it’s overwhelming. This desperate need for—” I can’t say “sex” to Mara. “For intimacy. Targeted at the mate our wolf chooses.”
“Like being in heat,” Mara says. Understanding dawning. “Animals have that. Didn’t know shifters—”
“We do.” I force myself to continue. “Mine died when Chance did. Nothing since then. I thought it was gone permanently. Happens sometimes when a bonded wolf loses their mate.”
“But it came back,” Ember says quietly. “With him.”
“Yes.” The admission hurts. “The first time we fought—actually fought, blades out—it just… hit me. Came back like it never left. And it won’t stop. Constant. Overwhelming. And I don’t understand why him.”
“How long do these cycles last?” Mara asks.
“Four, maybe five days. Then it fades.”
“And this means he’s your mate?” Mara’s tone is careful. Curious but not pushing.
“Generally, yes.” I choose my words carefully. “Female wolves have regular cycles throughout the year. But when one flares in response to a specific male, that usually indicates that he’s her mate. But it’s not…” I pause. “It’s not a guarantee. There could be other factors.”
“What other factors?” Ember asks. Her tone suggests she already knows the answer, but she’s letting me say it.
“Stress. Adrenaline. Survival situations.” I’m grasping at straws, and I know it. “Sometimes they trigger biological responses. Wolves can go into bloodlust when their prey drive kicks in, after all. Maybe whatever happened to me created a response that mimicked mate recognition.”
Bullshit, Nadia.
Mara leans forward. “So maybe this wasn’t actually a mate thing. Maybe it was just your body reacting to the stress of being hunted?”
“I’ve never heard of a stress-induced heat cycle—” Ember starts.
“But it’s possible,” I interrupt. Desperate. “It has to be possible. Because the alternative is—” I can’t finish.
Mara looks at me with something like understanding. “Maybe give it time. See if it fades. Then you’ll know for sure.”
I latch onto this like a lifeline. “Yes. Maybe that’s it. Maybe in a few days, when the cycle ends, I’ll realize this was just biology. Just my body reacting to extreme circumstances.”
My wolf snarls in violent protest. She knows. Has always known. This isn’t stress. This isn’t false recognition. This is her mate.
But my human side—my rational mind that needs logic and proof—wants desperately to believe Mara’s right.
“Your wolf chose him, Nadia,” Ember says quietly. “She recognizes her mate.”
“It seems impossible.” I look between them. “Not biologically—I know cross-species bonds happen all the time. Dragons and witches. Wolves and witches. But him?”
“Why not him?” Mara asks.
“Because he killed Chance.” The words tear out of me. “Because I built my entire life around hating him. Because he gave the order that destroyed everything. Because it doesn’t make sense.”
“Mate bonds don’t make sense,” Ember says. “They just are.”
“Well, maybe this time, it’s something else,” Mara says cautiously.
“But my wolf keeps insisting.” My voice drops low. “Keeps saying he’s our mate. Even though it seems impossible. Even though I should still hate him. Even though—” I stop. Can’t finish.
“Do you still hate him?” Ember asks.
“I don’t know.” Raw honesty. “I want to. But watching them take him to detention—” My chest tightens with the memory.
Physical ache that radiates through my ribs.
“It felt like losing Chance all over again. That wrongness. That pain. And I wanted to fight those Aurora guards to stop them, even though that’s insane. ”
“That’s a mate bond,” Ember says. “That’s your wolf recognizing her other half being taken away.”
“Or it’s the heat cycle making me feel things that aren’t real,” I counter. Need it to be true. “Maybe once it fades, I’ll see clearly. Maybe I’ll realize this was just temporary insanity.”
Ember looks skeptical but doesn’t argue.
Mara squeezes my hand. “Either way, you’ll know soon. Just a few days, right? Then you’ll have your answer.”
I nod. Cling to that hope. That in less than a week, the heat will fade, and these impossible feelings will fade with it.
My wolf howls in fury at the thought. But I ignore her.
Because the alternative—that he’s truly our mate, that I’m bonded to the man who took Chance from me, that there’s no escaping this—
I’m not ready for that truth.
A knock at the door. Sharp. Official.
“Frost.” Viktor’s voice. “We need to talk.”
Mara and Ember exchange looks. Stand.
“We should go,” Mara says. Squeezes my shoulder. “We’re here if you need us.”
Ember nods. “Whatever happens, you’re not alone.”
They head for the door. Mara opens it. Viktor stands there, expression unreadable. The women nod in silent greeting, then slip past him with final glances back at me—supportive but worried. Then they’re gone, and it’s just Viktor and me.
He steps inside and closes the door. The temperature seems to drop. Less friends, more interrogation.
“Walk me through what happened,” he says, getting straight to the point. “All of it.”
I stand and face him directly. “Syndicate operatives ambushed the convoy at the canyon pass. Killed all the Aurora guards. I engaged from high ground. Fought them off. Jericho and I were the only survivors.”
“Why didn’t you kill him?”