chapter 33
Dante insisted they take a walk despite the cold warm air outside.
Ferial didn’t understand why at first—why he kept glancing at the patrols, why he stayed so close to her shoulder, why every wolf they passed bowed their head just slightly.
It all made her tense, nervous, uncertain if she was allowed to walk beside him.
But Dante only kept a soft hand hovering near her back, not touching unless she stumbled on the uneven ground.
“Relax,” he murmured as they walked toward the open gravel clearing behind the northern residence. “I’m not taking you anywhere dangerous.”
“Everything feels dangerous to me,” she admitted honestly. “This… your world… it feels like walking inside someone else’s story.”
He chuckled. “Then we must change the story.”
He led her to a firepit surrounded by circular stone benches. A wide space, clearly designed for gatherings. The scent of wolf lingered thickly—earthy, smoky, wild.
“This is one of our customs,” Dante said. “The Circle.”
She frowned. “Circle?”
“Where wolves talk. Eat. Joke. Argue. Challenge. Connect. A lot happens in these spaces. You’ll see many of these around pack lands.”
Her gaze drifted around the clearing. She imagined wolves sitting here under the moon, firelight flickering across sharp features, their voices echoing into the dark. “Humans… aren’t allowed in places like this.”
“Humans aren’t allowed in most things,” he said quietly. “But you’re not ‘most humans.’ Not to me. Not to the wolves who know what you are to me.” It made her understand why she felt the way she did, as they were walking here.
She felt heat crawl up her neck. “I’m still human.”
“Maybe.” He stepped closer. “Or maybe you’re something the Goddess crafted differently.”
Her breath caught, but she didn’t push the conversation further. He didn’t either. Instead, he crouched by the firepit, arranging leftover wood. He didn’t light it—just touched the stones, as if checking something.
“Traditionally,” he said, “wolves gather at night, but this is the place I wanted to show you first. Every pack has a Circle before anything else is built—before houses, before training grounds. It’s our root.”
“Like…” She searched for the human equivalent. “Like a prayer space?”
His eyes softened. “You’re making connections I never could’ve explained better.”
She smiled faintly, and he looked like he might melt into the gravel.
A moment later, he stood and pulled out his phone again. “Speaking of roots… you should see what my family is saying.”
Her eyes widened. “They’re… talking about me?”
“Constantly.” He unlocked his phone and opened the Halecrest Chaos group again. It was worse than before.
SOFIA: Is she pretty??? Also what if she hates me I’m sensitive HELLO SOMEONE ANSWER ME OR I’LL SCREAM.
LUCIA: Sofia, you scream for everything. Even when you see cereal.
SOFIA: IT WAS SPILLED. TRAUMATIC.
VIVIEN (third-eldest sister): Dante better bring her home soon or I will steal the jet myself and fetch her.
MAMA: Vivien if you touch my plane I’m cutting your card.
PAPA: No one is stealing anything. Dante, answer your mother. Did you eat?
Ferial laughed, pressing her hand to her mouth. “Your family is insane.”
“Yes,” Dante replied, completely unbothered. “And they’re already preparing your welcome ceremony.”
“Welcome ceremony?” she repeated, horrified.
He blinked. “Did I not mention? Wolves celebrate everything. Especially mates.”
“I’m not—” She stopped, unable to finish the sentence as his gaze flickered with something raw and careful.
“You don’t need to call yourself anything yet,” he said softly. “But they’re excited. Very excited.” He scrolled more. “Look at this.”
There was a picture of a gigantic feast table his mother had already decorated—bright colors, candles, plates shaped like wolf paws.
MAMA: I am manifesting her arrival. DO NOT TOUCH THIS TABLE. It is sacred.
SOFIA: MAMI SHE HASN’T EVEN MET US YET.
MAMA: Manifestations take dedication. Leave me.
Ferial nearly doubled over. “Dante… your mother is—”
“An unstoppable force,” he said proudly. “She’s already calling you mi corazoncito, by the way.”
Ferial nearly choked. “She doesn’t even know me!”
“She thinks it’s adorable you’re human. Says the Goddess must have made you brave.”
Ferial grew quiet at that. Brave wasn’t a word she’d ever used for herself. Brave was something wolves were. Something children in her district pretended to be. Something she had never felt.
Dante sensed the shift instantly. His voice softened, losing the playful edge.
“Come here.”
He gestured toward the large circle bench, and she sat. He stayed standing in front of her, arms loose at his sides, face open in a way he didn’t show anyone else.
“In wolf culture,” he began, “there are a few things you have to understand. About us. About me. About what bonding means.”
She nodded slowly.
“First,” he said, “wolves are loyal to the heart. To the bone. When we feel something, it’s never small. Never casual.”
She swallowed.
“Second, our instincts aren’t just animal—they’re emotional. We protect what matters. We guard it. We defend it. Sometimes… too fiercely.”
She met his gaze. “Like with Abdie.”
Pain flickered through his eyes. “Yes. I didn’t mean to frighten you. But wolves don’t lie to themselves about their reactions. I reacted because the bond pulled. Hard.”
She looked down at her hands, tracing her thumb along her palm. “I thought you hated me.”
His expression cracked—just a little. Enough to see the boy under the Alpha.
“I never hated you,” he whispered. “I hated myself for wanting you. I hated the timing. The politics. The danger. But you?” He stepped closer. “Never you.”
A small, involuntary breath escaped her.
“Third,” he continued, voice dropping even softer, “wolves show affection through presence. Being near. Protecting. Teaching. Allowing you into my Circle space? That’s… not something we take lightly.”
She looked up at him. “It feels like you’re trying to show me everything at once.”
He huffed a soft laugh. “I’m trying not to overwhelm you. But also… I want you to understand me. My world. My people. If we’re going to figure out what we are… you can’t live afraid of us.”
She nodded. “I’m trying.”
“I know.” He sat beside her now, close enough to share warmth. “That’s all I need.”
He opened his phone again, scrolling through photos. Wolves in training grounds. Pups shifting for the first time. The massive Halecrest ancestral home. His mother at the head of a table, shouting at someone off-camera. His sisters covered in mud mid-hike. His father kneeling in a ceremony circle.
“This,” he murmured, “is what my life looks like when we’re not on duty. When politics is quiet. When power doesn’t matter.”
She stared at the images—messy, chaotic, full of laughter and wild energy. Nothing like the stiff, terrifying wolves she had always known.
“They look… normal,” she said softly. “Human, even.”
“Because wolves aren’t just beasts.” Dante looked at her with a gentleness that pulled something deep inside her chest. “We love. Loudly. Fiercely. Our bonds define us. Not our rank. Not our claws.”
She let the silence stretch between them, soft and warm.
Then she whispered, “Do your sisters really… want to meet me?”
He laughed. “They’re already arguing about who gets to interrogate you first.”
“No!” she gasped.
“Oh yes. They said if I don’t bring you home soon, they’re storming the district.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s extremely funny,” he corrected, eyes dancing. “Sofia already started packing.”
She groaned into her hands, mortified, but laughter shook through her anyway.
And Dante watched her with an expression she didn’t recognize at first—something tender, something full.
Something like awe.
She lowered her hands slowly, and his smile softened. “Ferial… you don’t have to love this world. You don’t have to love me. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
Her breath faltered.
“But if you’re willing to learn,” he whispered, “I’ll teach you everything. Every tradition. Every rule. Every reason wolves are the way we are.”
“And if I get overwhelmed?” she whispered.
“I’ll slow down.”
“And if I get scared?”
“I’ll stop.”
“And if I run?”
“I’ll find you,” he said, voice steady, “but only to ask if you want me to follow.”
A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.
Dante didn’t touch her.
He didn’t pull her close.
He just sat there, letting her feel everything without pressure.
“Ferial…” he murmured, voice trembling just slightly. “You don’t have to choose me yet. But I’m choosing you. Every day. Every hour. Every breath.”
She closed her eyes, letting his words settle into the deepest parts of her—places no one had ever touched before.
And for the first time in her life…
wolf culture didn’t feel like a threat. Perhaps a journey.
It felt like a home she wasn’t sure she was allowed to want.
The reality that she was more then what this district life had to offer was a reality.