Chapter 17 Harkan
Harkan
Iwoke to the scent of wildflowers and smoke.
Sable was still tangled around me—one leg thrown over my hip, her face pressed into the curve of my shoulder, her breath warm and steady against my skin.
The mark I'd left on her neck was visible just above her collarbone, a perfect crescent of healing pink that made something primal and satisfied purr in my chest.
Mate, the wolf rumbled, insufferably smug. Our mate. Marked and claimed and OURS.
I couldn't argue with him. Didn't want to.
The bond between us had changed overnight.
What had been a tentative thread—fragile and new and easily ignored—was now a rope woven through my very bones.
I could feel her heartbeat like a second pulse beneath my own, quicker and lighter than mine.
Her dreams flickered at the edges of my consciousness, soft and warm and mercifully free of nightmares.
For now, at least.
I let myself have this moment. Just a few more minutes of peace before the world came crashing back in. A few more minutes of her warmth pressed against me, her scent filling my lungs, her presence anchoring me in a way I hadn't felt in centuries.
She's beautiful, the wolf sighed.
She was. Even with her hair a tangled mess and ash still clinging to the edges of her bandage. Even with the new scar on her shoulder and the older ones mapping her skin like a history of survival. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
And she was mine.
Sable stirred, a soft sound escaping her throat. Her eyes fluttered open—hazy with sleep, then sharpening as consciousness returned. For a moment, she just looked at me, her expression unguarded in a way she never allowed when she was fully awake.
Then she smiled.
"Morning," she murmured, her voice rough with sleep.
"Morning." I pressed a kiss to her forehead, her nose, the corner of her mouth. "How do you feel?"
She stretched against me, wincing slightly when the movement pulled at her shoulder. "Like I got hit by a burning building and then thoroughly ravished by a wolf."
"Accurate."
Her laugh was soft and warm. "I could get used to waking up like this."
"Good." I pulled her closer, burying my nose in her hair. "Because I'm not letting you go."
We lay there for a few more minutes, breathing together, pretending the world outside didn't exist. But reality was already seeping in through the cracks—the smell of smoke still lingering in the air, the distant sounds of the pack moving through the stronghold, the weight of everything we still had to face.
"We should get up," Sable said eventually, though she made no move to leave my arms.
"Probably."
"Cara's going to have news about the mole."
"I know."
"And the pack will have questions about—" She touched her throat, fingers brushing the mark I'd left there. "This."
Let them ask, the wolf growled. Let them see that she's OURS.
"Let them," I said aloud. "I'm not hiding what you are to me."
Softness flared in her eyes. "And what am I to you?"
"Everything." The word came out before I could stop it. Raw and honest and terrifying in its simplicity. "You're everything, Sable."
She stared at me for a long moment. Then she kissed me—slow and sweet and full of things neither of us were ready to say out loud.
"Come on," she murmured against my lips. "Let's go face the wolves."
The great hall fell silent when we entered.
Every eye in the room tracked us as we walked in, the way my hand rested on the small of her back, the fresh mark visible on her throat, the way we moved together like two halves of a whole.
Reactions rippled through the crowd. Cara's knowing smirk. Berg's solemn nod of approval. Thea's satisfied smile, like she'd won a bet with herself.
And then—
"Sable!"
A small blur of motion launched across the hall. Elodie slammed into Sable's legs with enough force to make her stagger, tiny arms wrapping around her thighs in a fierce hug.
"You came back! You promised and you came back!"
Sable's face softened in a way that made my chest ache. She crouched down, her good arm wrapping around the pup. "I told you I would."
"Mama said you saved Lyra from the fire." Elodie's eyes were huge and worshipful. "She said you were really brave and you got hurt but you didn't let go."
"Lyra's okay?"
"Her leg is broken but Thea says it'll heal." Elodie pulled back, her nose wrinkling. "You smell different."
I bit back a laugh as Sable's cheeks flushed.
"I, um—"
"She smells like Alpha!" Elodie announced, loud enough for half the hall to hear. "Does that mean you're staying forever now?"
"Elodie." A woman appeared behind the pup—tall, dark-haired, with Elodie's same bright eyes. She put a hand on her daughter's shoulder, but her gaze found mine with a warmth that made my throat tight. "Let the poor woman breathe."
"It's okay," Sable said, and I could see she meant it. "I don't mind."
The woman—Lena, I remembered, one of the pack's teachers—smiled at Sable. "Thank you. For what you did last night. Lyra is my niece. If you hadn't—" Her voice cracked. "Thank you."
Sable looked uncomfortable with the gratitude, but she nodded. "Anyone would have done the same."
"No." Lena shook her head firmly. "They wouldn't. But you did."
More pack members approached after that.
Quiet words of thanks, nods of acknowledgment, a few brave souls who clasped Sable's hand or touched her shoulder in the way wolves showed acceptance.
Not everyone—I noticed Petra's group clustered in the far corner, their expressions ranging from hostile to coldly indifferent—but enough.
Enough to matter.
They're accepting her, the wolf observed. She's becoming pack.
She was. Slowly, painfully, one act of courage at a time.
"Alpha." Cara appeared at my elbow, her expression grim. "We need to talk. Privately."
The warmth in my chest turned to ice.
"My study," I said. "Now."
Sable fell into step beside me without being asked, Trouble trotting at her heels. Cara followed, her expression telling me this was going to be bad.
She was right.
The moment the door closed behind us, Cara spread a rough map across my desk, marking positions with small stones.
"Here's what we know. The explosion happened at the north watchtower approximately an hour after Rafe left the gate." She tapped a spot on the map. "The device was planted on the ground floor, near the support beams. Whoever did it knew exactly where to place it for maximum damage."
"Inside knowledge," Sable murmured. She was perched on the edge of my desk, Trouble curled on her lap. "They knew the building's weak points."
"Exactly." Cara's jaw tightened. "I've narrowed it down to eight people who had both access to the watchtower and the opportunity to slip away during the council meeting or immediately after."
"Names," I demanded.
"Aldric. Maren. Tomas. Jessa. Keir. Dorran. Fenn." She paused. "And Petra."
My stomach dropped. "Petra? She was supposed to be confined to quarters."
"She was." Cara's expression was grim. "But the guard on her door reported she slipped out during the chaos of the fire. Said she went to help—which she did, eventually—but there's about twenty minutes unaccounted for before anyone saw her at the bucket line."
"Petra's a bitch," Sable said flatly, "but I don't think she's a traitor. Her problem with me is personal, not political. She wouldn't blow up her own pack just to get rid of me."
She's defending the woman who kicked Trouble, the wolf observed, surprised.
I was surprised, too. But Sable's instincts had proven reliable so far.
"What about the others?" I asked.
"Aldric has the clearest motive—he opposed Sable publicly.
Made no secret of his belief that we should hand her over.
" Cara shifted the stones on the map. "But Maren is interesting.
She's been part of Petra's group for months, always in the background.
Never said much. But she was seen near the watchtower an hour before the explosion, claiming she was checking on a friend who was on guard duty. "
"Let me talk to them," Sable said quietly.
We both turned to look at her.
"My gift," she continued. "I can taste lies, remember? Line them up and let me ask questions. I'll know who's telling the truth."
It was so simple I wanted to kick myself for not suggesting it first.
"You're still injured," I said, though the protest felt weak even to my own ears.
"My shoulder's hurt, not my tongue." She met my gaze steadily. "Let me do this, Harkan. Let me help protect what's mine."
What's mine. The words sent a thrill down my spine.
"Bring them in," I told Cara. "One at a time. Aldric first."
Fifteen minutes later, Aldric entered with his chin high and his shoulders stiff, radiating injured pride.
"This is insulting," he spat before anyone could speak. "I've served this pack for forty years. I questioned one decision—one—and suddenly I'm a suspect?"
"Sit down," I growled.
He sat, though his glare could have melted steel.
Sable watched him with an expression of calm detachment, but I could feel the subtle shift in her energy through the bond—her gift rising to the surface, tasting the air around him.
"Did you plant the explosive device in the watchtower?" she asked.
"No." The word was sharp, immediate.
Sable's head tilted slightly. Through the bond, I felt... nothing. No sourness. No bitterness. Just clean, cold truth.
"Did you help anyone else plant it?"
"No."
Again, nothing.
"Do you have knowledge of who did?"
"No." Aldric's hands clenched on the arms of his chair. "I told you, I'm not a traitor. I disagreed with protecting the witch—I still do—but I would never work with outsiders against my own pack."
Still truth. Frustrating, but truth.
"Did you have any contact with Rafe during his visit?" Sable pressed.
"I saw him at the gate, same as everyone else. That's all."
Truth.
Sable leaned back, but she wasn't finished. "Why do you oppose protecting me so strongly?"