Chapter 15
A sting of teeth dragged me awake. I opened my eyes, disoriented, my body unable to tell the difference between the one who’d claimed me tenderly and the one who’d devoured me. My heart was a flurry of emotions I couldn’t rationalize.
I sat up, my breath hitching as I reached for my throat. My skin was cool and unmarked, but the memory of his rough tongue was too real to be a dream. The room was dark, save for the first kiss of dawn against the window frame.
I needed to move. I needed the sun to convince myself I wasn’t still pinned to the earth by a shadow. I stripped as I walked, leaving the nightmare in a heap on the floor.
Once under the scalding waterfall, I squeezed my eyes shut and did what I hadn’t let myself do in months. I reached for her.
Are you there? I pressed further into the dark corners of my mind, desperate for even a flicker of a growl or the brush of fur. Nothing. Only the hollow void I’d lived with my entire life. I scrubbed my skin until it turned a raw, angry pink, trying to wash away the heat of a man who didn’t exist.
I tried again, more deliberately. I dropped every wall I’d built and opened the space inside me where she was supposed to live. I pictured the pack doctor’s description from when I was young: a den, warm and dark, where your wolf curls, an ember waiting to catch.
Mine was cold. Not empty—occupied, the way a room feels after someone has left. Something pushed from the other side, not with warmth, but resistance—a door bolted from within.
Please. The world felt pathetic. Just once. Just so I know.
The silence that answered wasn’t peaceful.
I turned the water hotter and stopped asking.
I stayed until the steam blurred the world, thick enough to hide in, and let the tears flow.
When I was done, I stepped out, dripping and hollow.
I pulled on a second skin of black fabric and shorts before stepping into the hall.
The elevator ride down was a descent into a lion’s den.
There was a chime and then the elevator doors opened to the main area.
The peace I craved vanished. Instead, I was met with early risers from multiple packs.
There were groups for each kingdom. Danger hummed through the air, but there was also curiosity and hope.
I doubt I’d ever get used to this place.
I kept my head down, my gaze darting away from the Alphas already sizing up the room.
To avoid their stares, I focused on the far wall, my eyes catching the long row of frames mounted on the wall.
A gallery of images—no singular person stood above the rest. They were all powerful, but my gaze ignored them, drawn by a magnetic pull to the man in the center of the group.
The breath left my lungs in a rush. A man.
He stood with a lethal edge. He didn’t have to demand the room; eyes gravitated to him.
His hair was short, his jawline more defined by the sun than the shadow, but those eyes…
they were green, the familiar shade of my sanctuary—deep, dark, swallowing.
The light hit his shoulders highlighting the way his shirt stretched taut over muscles.
I didn’t know his name or rank, but seeing him made the air too thin to breathe.
I didn’t want to look. I’d come here for a moment of peace, not to stare at the faces of men who collected territories and waged wars. But my eyes kept returning to the center image. There was something in his stance—the way he stood like he’d already won—that pricked at my memory.
“Admiring the view?”
I flinched, spinning around to see Lilith stepping out of the elevators. She was adjusting the collar of her shirt, her movements slow and languid. As she passed, a wave of scent hit me—thick and unmistakably Gabe.
I didn’t need a wolf to know she had spent the night in his bed. The smell of him was painted on her skin. She gave me a slow, feline smile—a silent claim—before she disappeared into the crowd heading toward breakfast.
I’d played this part too many times. Women saw a threat; they never saw the sisterly bond that kept me at Gabe’s side.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, ducked into the elevators, and headed back upstairs.
The rising numbers on display couldn’t keep pace with my heart.
By the time I reached the seventh floor, my irritation had billowed into anger.
I beat on his door with a closed fist until it swung open.
He groaned, holding his head, and I strutted past him and the sharp tang of her perfume.
I crossed my arms as he slouched into his velvet chair.
His phone dinged. He looked tired. Not from lack of sleep, but from an exhaustion he was struggling to outrun.
“Say what you came here to say.” He picked up his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. He threw it on the bed before blue eyes found me.
I had no desire to find my own mate, but a cold knot of dread tightened for Gabe. If his true mate scented him while he reeked of a random woman’s perfume, the aftermath would be nothing short of chaos. A shiver ran down my spine.
If I were in his position, what would I want?
“You reek of slut. I need you to shower so we can go down and grab a bite.”
His eyes darted to mine. Surprise melted into softness. Then a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He jumped to his feet and shot after me.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Gabriel Leonidas Moon!” I dodged, a shriek tearing from my throat. He was faster and trapped me with a bear hug.
“I love you, bestie.” I sighed as he squeezed me.
“I love you too. Now get off,” I hissed as I tried and failed to pry his massive arms from my waist and shoulders.
“But if you ever use my government name again, we might have to break up,” he said before releasing me. He headed toward the bathroom. “I’ll make it quick.”
“You’re damn right you will! I might need to shower again,” I whined. He closed the door, but it couldn’t block out the laugh that vibrated from the depths of his chest.
True to his word, Gabe was out in ten minutes, the cinnamon and pine scent of him replacing the cloying perfume, and we stepped back into the hall. We headed down the elevators, the quiet hum a dying breath before the roar of the lobby swallowed us.
When the doors slid open, the atmosphere was vibrant. It was early yet, but the Hall was already teeming with life. We followed the flow of people headed into the Dining area.
“Weird, isn’t it?” Gabe murmured, nodding toward the long, industrial counters.
I nodded in agreement.
Back at Half Moon, we sweated to make sure the meals were done on time.
Here, the layout was built for self-sufficiency.
There was a sprawling yogurt and granola bar at one end, overflowing with fresh berries; a cereal station with more varieties than a grocery store; and several stations where people used commercial-grade griddles and heavy cast-iron molds to flip their own pancakes and waffles.
Along the back wall, massive stainless steel trays kept the heavy hitters hot—heaps of scrambled eggs, thick-cut bacon, and seasoned potatoes. Everyone helped themselves, Alpha and unranked side-by-side, sharing the responsibility of the meal.
We moved through the line together and weren’t the only ones to notice this setup.
An Alpha grumbled about not having a designated space while another didn’t mind.
I grabbed a bowl of Greek yogurt and sprinkled granola and fruit, while Gabe piled his plate high with enough meat to feed a small army.
We found a small table near the edge of the room, tucked away from the prying eyes of the other visiting packs.
“When was the last time we sat down to eat breakfast together?” Gabe said between bites of bacon, his voice light. “I could get used to this!”
My heart warmed and I wished there was something I could do about our station back home. But that was a dream for a woman who at least had a wolf, not a slave who was only here by the grace and mercy of her Alpha.
“What time should I pick you up for the ceremony?” Gabe’s voice turned casual, his eyes fixed on the mountain of eggs.
The lightness I’d been trying to maintain died in my throat. I looked at him, my chest aching for the loneliness he tried so hard to drown out with women who would never truly see him. “About that… Shane is escorting me tonight.”
The background noise—the clinking of silverware, the low hum of shifting bodies—dropped away. Gabe’s fork clattered against the ceramic plate. He looked up, his brows furrowed, the corner of his lips pulled down.
“Shane?” The name dropped from his lips, a low, dangerous vibration that made me sit straighter. “Ady, tell me you’re joking.”
“I don’t have a choice, Gabe. It’s expected for the opening ritual. It’s… politics. I can’t attend alone and…”
“Mavy,” he finished. He reached across the table to grab my hand. “Fine. But I’m going with you guys. I’ll see if Lilith is down to go, and stay close. I’m not leaving you alone with that bastard.”
“Of course you’re coming with. I need you there,” I whispered, leaning in so the nearest table wouldn’t hear. Or at least, I hoped. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on you. Do you think taking a random woman to the Mating Ritual is a good idea? What if you meet your mate tonight? It’ll be a bloodbath.”
“You’re only proving my point. It’s the Mating Ritual. Isn’t that weird? Mavy’s up to something, Ady. Why would she give you her brother when he could be finding his mate tonight?”
“He was already set on taking me,” I whispered. He blinked, then sighed.
“Fine, but I need an escort as much as you do.”
“Not really,” I countered, pulling my hand back from his.
“Men can walk into the Mating Festival alone and look like predators. Women… especially women like me… we need escorts to look like we have backing. It’s a blessing to have Jaxon’s support.
” The lie tasted like ash, nearly choking me as I forced it out. “I’m not here to find my mate anyway.”
He paused, his blue eyes scanning the room where visitors were already watching us with curiosity. He cracked his knuckles.
“Then we’ll both be ‘backed’ tonight,” he said, his voice flat and final.
Before I could argue, the air around us shifted, and Gabe’s eyes darted above me, his jaw locking.
Over my shoulder, Nikki and Mavy wove through the crowded tables toward us.
Nikki was moving with her usual effortless grace, balancing a plate piled with pancakes and bacon.
Mavy walked in with a calculated stillness of royalty.
She didn’t look at the tables she passed; she dissected them.
Gabe’s entire posture changed. The protectiveness vanished, replaced by a stiff, guarded distance.
He didn’t just dislike Mavy; he had the look of a man trying to hide a secret from a bloodhound.
The difference in his demeanor towards her when Alpha Jaxon was around and when he wasn’t was night and day.
“Morning, babe,” Nikki said, sliding into the chair next to me and eyeing my yogurt. “You need more than that to make it through the day.”
Mavy remained standing for a heartbeat, her eyes flickering to Gabe’s messy plate, then to his clenched jaw.
“You two look like you’re plotting something,” she said lightly.
“I was just leaving,” Gabe said abruptly. He didn’t even look at Mavy, focusing instead on me as he stood. “Text me and I’ll come over.”
“We just got here, Gabby. At least sit down while we finish our coffee. Mavy won’t bite. Much,” Nikki teased.
“I’m sure Trent can handle that. I have things to do,” Gabe muttered, his voice dropping into a tone he never used with me. He gave my shoulder one last squeeze—a silent I’ve got you—and cut a path through the crowd toward the exits. He moved fast, leaving a wake of uneasy silence behind him.
Mavy sat down slowly in the seat he’d vacated, her gaze lingering on the doors where Gabe had disappeared. She didn’t say anything at first, but the weight of her presence was heavy. She moved for her coffee, her movements precise and elegant.
“He’s lovely today,” Mavy observed, her voice sarcastic. She turned those silver eyes on me, and for a second, her gaze went straight through to the void where my wolf should have been. “And you smell like you’re on edge.”
My stomach turned. I couldn’t tell her about the dream, or the man in the photo, or the sting in my neck.
“It’s the festival,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Everyone is either excited or uneasy. I’m the latter.”
“Some more than others,” Nikki added, pointing her fork toward a group of visiting Alphas who were openly staring at our table. “The vultures are already circling.”
I looked down at my yogurt, the fruit now looking like bruised ink.
“Eat, Ady,” Mavy said. I looked up to find her eyes on mine. “We’re going to need our strength.”