Chapter 7

EIRA VALE

The knock on my door came just as I was pulling my hair into a braid.

Three short taps. Controlled. Predictable.

Kael.

I closed my eyes for a moment, steadying myself. I’d spent the last two days avoiding him—throwing myself into my lab space, the small infirmary the pack had given me, anything that kept my mind off the memory of his body caging mine in warmth, the heat of his breath ghosting over the skin of my hand, the way he’d almost kissed me before stopping like it physically hurt him.

Avoiding him didn’t work. He was everywhere. In conversations. In the halls. In the woods, tracking me without pretending otherwise. Even in my sleep.

I opened the door.

Kael stood there wearing a dark shirt rolled up at the sleeves, collar open slightly, hair brushed back but still annoyingly damp like he’d run a hand through it a hundred times. His eyes swept over me quickly—checking, assessing. His gaze always felt like a touch.

“You’re late,” I said, crossing my arms.

His brow lifted. “You said noon. It’s noon.”

“Your definition of noon and mine don’t match.”

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. “Clearly.”

I hated that the sight of the smirk did things to my stomach.

He stepped aside slightly. “We need to go.”

“To the clinic?” I grabbed my satchel. “I told you—Ariana’s condition stabilized last night. We’re treating symptoms until—”

“Not the clinic.” He cut me off. “Bren’s waiting for us.”

I paused at the name. Bren — the scout with the easy smile, sharp eyes, and habit of looking at me as if I were carved sunlight.

“Why?” I asked.

Kael’s jaw flexed.

“He found something.”

***

We walked through the trees, following a narrow path dipping toward the river. Kael kept pace beside me, close enough that his arm brushed mine every few steps. A calculated distance—just enough to feel him, not enough to accuse him of hovering.

He watched our surroundings like he expected an enemy behind every tree.

“Are we going to keep pretending everything is normal?” I asked.

He didn’t look at me. “Define normal.”

“You almost kissed me.”

He stopped walking.

The forest stilled with him.

Slowly, he turned his head and met my eyes.

“I didn’t almost kiss you,” he said quietly. “I stopped.”

“That still counts.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because wanting something,” his voice dropped lower, “and acting on it are not the same thing.”

My pulse thudded traitorously.

“And which part do you struggle with?” I asked. “The wanting or the acting?”

His eyes darkened. Fully. Visibly.

“That’s your second question this morning,” he said. “Do you want a third answer too?”

“If you’re offering.”

“I’m not.”

We stared at each other until Bren whistled from deeper in the woods.

Kael exhaled sharply and gestured for me to follow.

Coward.

***

Bren was crouched beside the river bank, poking something with a stick. When he saw us, he grinned at me first. Always me.

“Morning, healer.”

Kael didn't greet him. Typical.

“What did you find?” I asked.

Bren pointed at the water.

“This.”

I knelt beside him—and froze.

Dead fish. Dozens of them. Floated up along the shore, their scales pale, eyes clouded, bodies stiff.

All of them with the same odd discoloration beneath the gills—a greyish-green marbling that looked disturbingly similar to the veins spreading along the spines of the sick pack members.

My stomach tightened.

“When did this start?” I asked.

“This morning.” Bren’s tone shifted into seriousness. “I did a patrol along the ridge yesterday. Nothing like this then.”

Kael crouched beside me, shoulder brushing mine. “What does it mean?”

I gloved my hands and picked up one of the fish. The stench was... wrong. Not decay—something chemical. Sharper.

“It means the sickness is environmental,” I said slowly. “Or someone made it look that way.”

Kael’s eyes snapped to me. “Explain.”

“Viruses can mutate in new environments, but this…” I shook my head. “It’s too fast. Too targeted. The sick wolves all drink from this river.”

“So do the fish,” Bren added.

“And the livestock,” I muttered.

Kael straightened, tension rolling off him like static before lightning. “Are you saying someone poisoned our water?”

“I’m saying,” I met his gaze, “someone’s doing something they shouldn’t. And they’re covering their tracks.”

Kael’s voice chilled. “Rogues?”

“Or someone inside your borders.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.

Bren cleared his throat. “Alpha, if you want, I can lead a party upstream—”

“I’ll handle it,” Kael snapped.

Bren blinked. “Right. Of course.”

Kael turned to me. “We’re done here.”

I frowned. “We should take samples—”

“Later.”

“Kael—”

He gave me that look. The one that meant he was about to lift me over his shoulder and remove me bodily from the scene.

“I said later, Eira.”

Bren’s gaze flicked between us. His smirk returned. “You two fight like an old married couple.”

Kael growled.

Actually growled.

Bren raised his hands laughing. “Alright, alright. I’ll head back.”

He gave me a wink before walking off.

Kael watched him go, jaw tight enough to crack.

“You like him,” he said.

I sputtered. “What? No I don’t.”

“He smells like he thinks you do.”

I stared at him. “You’re seriously scent-analyzing his feelings now?”

“It’s hard not to when he’s practically dripping eagerness all over the forest floor.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Exactly.”

I sighed. “Kael, Bren is just friendly.”

His eyes snapped to mine, predatory and sharp. “I don’t want his friendliness anywhere near you.”

“Why? Because you’re the Alpha?” I challenged. “Or because of the mate bond?”

His chest rose, fell, and when he spoke—his voice was low, rough, restrained.

“Because I don’t trust myself if he keeps looking at you like that.”

My breath hitched.

There it was.

The slip he didn’t mean to say.

The truth.

Before I could respond, he turned and started walking, like distance could undo the confession.

***

Back at the infirmary, Kael hovered behind me while I worked. Close. Too close.

“You're pacing,” I said without looking up.

“I’m thinking.”

“You’re brooding.”

He didn’t deny it.

“You should talk to Bren,” I said.

“About what?”

“About the fact that you nearly tore his head off for smiling.”

Kael stepped closer. “He’s careless around you.”

“He’s just—”

“Eira.”

I froze at the sound of my name in his voice.

Slow. Dark. Heavy with meaning.

Then his fingers brushed the back of my neck.

Just a featherlight touch.

Enough to send every nerve in my body sparking.

I swallowed. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you.” He stepped behind me fully. “Your shoulders are tense.”

“Because you’re standing over me like a thundercloud.”

“And yet you haven’t asked me to move.”

I didn’t trust my voice enough to respond.

His hand lingered. Warm. Large. Possessive.

“I know you’re scared of what you saw,” he murmured. “But I’m trying, Eira. You don’t see how hard I’m trying.”

“Hard enough to intimidate half your pack?”

“No.” His fingers curled gently around the nape of my neck. “Hard enough not to pull you against me right now.”

Heat shot through me so violently I had to grip the table.

“Kael—”

“You smell like frustration.” His breath grazed my ear. “And something else.”

“Stop.” My voice shook.

“Tell me to stop.” His lips almost brushed the shell of my ear. “And I will.”

I turned sharply — too sharply — bumping straight into his chest.

He caught my elbows automatically, holding me steady.

We were too close.

Far too close.

I stared up at him, heart slamming. “You can’t just… say things like that.”

“Then tell me to leave.”

“I—”

But Bren chose that moment to walk in.

Of course he did.

“Hey, healer, I brought—oh.” He froze. “Am I interrupting something?”

Kael didn’t move.

Didn’t even blink.

He just stared at Bren with murder in his eyes.

“We’re working,” I snapped, pulling back.

Kael’s hands tightened just a fraction before he let go.

Bren lingered at the doorway. “Right. Working.”

He set a basket of herbs down and left.

Kael exhaled slowly. “I’m going to kill him.”

“No, you’re not.”

“He’s flirting.”

“He’s breathing.”

“Exactly.”

I groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re infuriating.”

“And yet here we are,” I muttered.

He moved before I registered it.

One second there was space between us.

The next—

My back hit the wall behind me.

His arms caged me in.

His body pressed so close I could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell cedar and smoke and something wilder, darker.

His voice dropped to a gravel-soft whisper. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

“I—Kael—people can walk in—”

“They won’t.”

“You don’t know that—”

“I do.” His forehead lowered until it touched mine. “Because I’d tear the door off its hinges if anyone tried.”

My breath hitched.

One of his hands slid to my waist.

The other braced beside my head.

He was trembling. Actually trembling.

“Kael,” I whispered, “this is a bad idea.”

“Yes,” he murmured, lips brushing the corner of my mouth. “And yet I can’t walk away.”

His mouth hovered over mine.

Close.

So close I could feel every ghost of breath, every ounce of restraint he was clinging to with fraying thread.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered again.

I didn’t.

Not because I couldn’t.

But because I didn’t want to.

He groaned — a sound raw enough to unravel me — and his forehead pressed harder against mine, like he was fighting himself.

His lips grazed mine.

Barely.

A breath.

A promise.

Then—

A knock hammered on the door.

Kael’s entire body went rigid.

He closed his eyes, swallowed hard, and stepped back so fast the wall felt cold without him.

“Come in,” he growled, voice hoarse.

One of the guards poked his head in, unaware he’d just ruined the century’s most anticipated kiss.

“Alpha—we found something upstream. You need to see it.”

Kael didn’t look at me.

Couldn’t look at me.

But the air between us still throbbed with what almost happened.

He straightened his shirt, cleared his throat, and said—

“Eira. You’re coming with me.”

Not a request.

A declaration.

And his eyes, when they finally met mine again, promised one thing:

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.