Five

Standing at the edge of her former pack, Ash released a slow, steady breath. It felt unreal to be back here after all this time. She had left with the hope of starting a new life, of building a family far away from this place. Yet fate, it seemed, had carved something deeper for her here than she had ever imagined.

She reached for her suitcase and stepped into the village. Heads turned as she passed, whispers trailing in her wake. Some faces flickered with recognition; others studied her with open suspicion.

“Isn’t that the Alpha’s daughter?”

“She’s… still alive? I thought they hid her inside the packhouse because she was dead.”

The murmurs followed her, but Ash merely smiled and kept walking.

“You look even worse than I imagined.”

She stopped. A young man dressed far too fashionably for the village stood a few steps ahead, arms crossed and smirking.

Relief lit her face as she met his gaze.

“And your fashion sense hasn’t changed either,” she shot back.

They both burst into laughter.

Later, away from prying eyes, Ash sat across from Echabod in one of the village houses, their conversation flowing easily as they caught up on years of gossip. “I have a favor to ask of you.” She started.

“I am definitely not changing your hair color again,” Echabod warned, wagging a finger.

She laughed and waved him off.

“That’s not it. I am done with disguises.” Her expression sobered. “This is… different. Can you suppress a mate bond?”

Echabod straightened instantly.

“A mate bond?” He studied her closely. “Don’t tell me the lover girl I know has suddenly given up on finding her mate.”

“Rowan was never my mate,” Ash said calmly. “And I never planned to search for one.”

“Then why?” He pressed.

“I am accepting the arranged marriage,” she replied. “It’s time I lived for myself, not for love. I have a new goal now.”

A slow smile spread across Echabod’s face before it faded just as quickly.

“Your brothers won’t sit back and let that happen. If your goal is your rightful position, it won’t be easy.”

“I know,” she said coolly. “I came home knowing that.”

He sighed, lifting his hands in surrender.

“I can never talk you out of anything. But you do understand that suppressing the mate bond also suppresses your wolf, right? Our wolves feed on that bond. Without it, yours will be restrained too.”

“I have lived without her for three years,” Ash replied. “I will survive.”

Echabod stared at her like she had lost her mind and shook his head.

“Good luck fighting your brothers without a wolf.”

Ashley stood before the mirror, studying her reflection. Her long black hair cascaded elegantly down her back, framing her face. Light blue eyes, sharp and striking, stared back at her, unfamiliar yet undeniably hers. She forced a small smile, adjusting to her true self once more.

Only one thing was still missing, her wolf.

But there was no more trusting, no more depending. She would reclaim her birthright as the firstborn of the pack.

Dressed in a black sleeveless gown, a tiara resting securely atop her head, she turned just as her father entered.

“My daughter, you look stunning,” he said, his gaze appraising, like a prize on display. “Wait until you meet the remarkable fiancé awaiting you.”

Ashley rolled her eyes and walked past him toward the table.

“Don’t forget what you promised,” she said coolly. “Once this marriage is finalized, you will declare me your successor.”

“Of course, of course,” her father said, already moving closer. He entwined his arm with hers possessively.

“Shall we?”

Before she could respond, he guided her forward.

They stepped into a vast garden alive with color and sound, werewolves from countless packs gathered beneath glowing lanterns, their scents mingling in the night air. Conversations faltered as heads turned. Every gaze fixed on her.

Ashley’s steps nearly faltered beneath the weight of their attention.

They looked at her as though she were something newly discovered, and she knew why. If there was one thing she would forever thank her mother for, it was beauty. This was her first gathering and events like this occurred only once in decades. The array of clothing, styles, and appearances fascinated her despite the nerves curling in her stomach. Aside from Rowan’s pack, she had never truly mingled with other werewolves.

“Just follow my lead,” her father murmured, steering her deeper into the garden.

“Alpha Barton,” a middle-aged man in a gray tuxedo approached, bowing slightly. “Allow me to introduce my wife.”

“What a beautiful woman,” her father exclaimed warmly. “And this is my daughter, Ashley Barton.”

“For a moment, I thought she was your wife,” the man joked.

Her father burst into laughter.

A sudden stir rippled through the crowd.

Her father gasped softly. “He’s here. Come,” he said, gripping her wrist and pulling her along before she could even ask who he was.

As they neared the disturbance, Ashley caught sight of a familiar silhouette. Her brows drew together as she squinted, trying to make sense of the sudden ache blooming in her chest.

Then the man turned.

Her heart stuttered, then slammed violently against her ribs.

“Alpha Dane,” her father said brightly, stepping forward. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Dane moved closer.

Ashley stood frozen.

The world seemed to narrow to the man before her, the man she had once trusted, once given herself to. That scent hit her like a blow: cedar and rain-soaked forest. Her mate.

Him.

Anger flared hot and sharp, tangling with pain and a rage so deep it made her vision blur. The man who had taken her, then abandoned her without a word, stood right in front of her.

And to make it worse, he was her fiancé.

A violent shiver raced down her spine. If not for the disguise, if not for Echabod’s careful work, she would have slapped him without hesitation. His infuriatingly handsome face only made it harder to keep her fury intact.

When his gaze finally settled on her, it was cold. Assessing. Indifferent. His eyes moved over her as though she were merchandise he had already decided to discard.

Her annoyance flared, then stilled.

There could only be one reason for that look. He does not recognize her. Echabod’s trick really worked. Relief and bitterness twisted together in her chest.

“I will leave you two to get acquainted,” her father said cheerfully.

Ashley made a sound of protest, reaching for him, but he was already gone. There was no way in hell she was marrying a man like him. He was shameless, arrogant and a cheat. The same man who had thrown her away like she meant nothing. Was she truly the fiancée his man spoke of that night? If so, how could he have slept with her when he was already promised to someone else?

When her father disappeared into the crowd, Ashley stepped back, deliberately putting distance between them. She kept her gaze averted, heart pounding. She could feel his eyes on her, waiting.

She needed to speak. But what if he recognized her voice? Echabod’s magic hadn’t altered that.

“Why do you smell like me?”

His words struck like lightning.

Her breath hitched as her eyes snapped back to him.