FAZER LOGINDemetrius's POV
By the time Altracas had finally run himself out, the sky had shifted into deep orange, the sun sinking low enough to bleed color across the water. I let him have his swim at the creek, the cold current washing the blood and dirt from his fur, and when he finally handed control back to me, the forest had gone quiet and dim, evening settling in fast the way it always did out here. I climbed out, dressed, and started the walk back toward my private residence, my mind already circling back to the one problem I hadn't managed to outrun. A run was supposed to clear my head. It always had before — years of channeling frustration into speed and distance until whatever had been eating at me burned itself out somewhere in the trees. It hadn't worked this time. If anything, the quiet only gave the thoughts more room to spread, until every step home felt less like distance gained and more like distance I was reluctantly giving back. I told myself it didn't matter. I told myself I'd walk through that door, ignore her, and get on with the dozen responsibilities waiting on my desk — border reports, a training schedule that needed revising, a meeting with the pack elders I'd already postponed twice this week. None of it required me to think about auburn hair or blue eyes or the sound of her breath catching when I'd looked at her too long. It was a good plan. It lasted exactly as long as it took me to reach my own front door. Her. I keyed in the code at my front door and pushed it open, and the scent hit me before I'd even stepped over the threshold — strawberries and peaches, soft and warm, twined together with something that was unmistakably my own scent and the fading trace of my beta's. My chest tightened in a way I refused to name. Mate is home, Altracas said, entirely too pleased with himself. I shut him out and kept walking, only then remembering, with some irritation, that I'd never assigned her a room. I'd been so eager to get away from her that morning I hadn't thought that far ahead — hadn't wanted to think that far ahead, if I was honest with myself, because assigning her a room meant deciding how close I was willing to let her live to me, and I hadn't wanted to face that decision yet. Her scent thickened as I moved down the hall, pulling me toward my own bedroom door, and when I pushed it open, I found her there. Sprawled across my bed, sleeping peacefully, wrapped in my clothes like she had every right to be there. I inhaled without meaning to. She'd showered. Used my soap, my shampoo — and now she smelled like *me*, layered under her own scent, and something about that combination undid me faster than anything else had all day. The sight of her curled up in my shirt, her hair still damp against my pillow, nearly brought me to my knees right there in the doorway. Every instinct in me surged at once — the urge to cross the room, to reach for her, to gather her against me and finally let myself feel what I'd been fighting since the moment she'd walked into my office. The image came before I could stop it. Me, sliding into the bed behind her, molding myself along her back. My hand slipping beneath the hem of my own shirt to find her bare skin, drawing her closer, feeling the weight of her settle against my chest like she belonged there. My palm finding the soft curve of her breast, my mouth at the shell of her ear, murmuring words I had no right to whisper to a woman I'd rejected only hours ago. I nearly stumbled where I stood. Shame crashed over me so fast it left my head spinning, and I shoved the image away with a force that left my jaw aching from how hard I clenched it. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to want her like this — not after everything I'd told myself in that office, not after everything I'd told her. I turned and fled the room like a coward, pulling the door shut behind me hard enough that the frame rattled, my heart hammering as though I'd seen something far more dangerous than a sleeping woman in my bed. It was as if I'd never come home at all — as if some other man had stood in that doorway and wanted things I refused to let myself want. But one thing was undeniable now, no matter how many times I tried to bury it. My body was betraying me. I stood in the hallway for a long moment, forcing air into my lungs like I'd been the one running for hours instead of my wolf. I told myself it was exhaustion. I told myself it was the mate bond doing exactly what mate bonds were designed to do, and that recognizing the pull didn't mean I had to give in to it. I'd built an entire pack back from nothing on the strength of refusing to give in to things — grief, rage, the temptation to let vengeance run my life instead of leadership. I could refuse this too. Altracas didn't agree. I could feel him pacing at the edges of my mind, unusually quiet for once, which somehow felt worse than his usual noise. He didn't need to argue his case. He'd already made it clear enough with that single, wrecked howl at the creek. And no matter how far I ran, or how long I stayed away from that bedroom door, I had the sinking feeling this particular fight was one I wasn't going to win by simply refusing to show up for it.Armida's POVBy the time we reached the house, the heat had stopped being a feeling and become a kind of weather.It lived under my skin and behind my eyes, pressing at me from the inside. Demetrius didn't ask before he swept me up somewhere near the porch steps, and I didn't argue. Everywhere his arms held me, the burning eased. Everywhere they didn't, it flared, so I turned my face into his chest and breathed him in, pine and sweat and something darker underneath, and for a few stairs I forgot how to be embarrassed about it.In the bathroom, he set me down on the cold tile and turned the tap on full. Water thundered into the tub. "Stay here," he said, and the second his hands left me I understood exactly how much they had been holding back."Demetrius." It came out cracked."Thirty seconds. Ice." His eyes met mine, gold shot through the brown, his jaw locked so hard a muscle jumped in it. "I'm not going anywhere. I swear it."He was back in less than that, with a bucket of ice from
Armida's POVSomething felt off by midafternoon, and I couldn't put a name to it.It wasn't sick, exactly. No chills, no ache, nothing my body recognized as illness. It was more like being too aware of my own skin, restless in a way that made sitting still feel like a chore. I had already changed clothes twice, convinced each time that the fabric was the problem, before admitting to myself that the fabric wasn't the problem.Lilith noticed before I said anything, which shouldn't have surprised me. She noticed everything, pregnant or not."You're flushed," she said, setting a stack of tiny folded onesies on the table between us, the spoils from our shopping trip finally getting sorted. "Have been all day.""It's warm.""Armida, there's frost on the grass every morning." She gave me a look that was equal parts amused and knowing, the kind that made me want to change the subject immediately. "How are you feeling? Really.""Restless. Hot, but not fever hot." I pressed the back of my hand
Demetrius' POVI woke before she did, the way I always did now — some old instinct refusing to let me sleep past the point of usefulness, even with her weight warm and solid against my chest and every reason in the world to stay exactly where I was.She hadn't moved much in the night. Her hand was still half-tangled in my shirt where she'd fallen asleep tracing the scar along my ribs, fingers gone slack around the fabric. I lay there a long moment just watching her breathe, the furrow between her brows finally smoothed out for once, none of the wariness she carried around during daylight hours making it into her sleep.I thought about the scar she'd asked about. Later, I'd told her, and meant it — not as a deflection, just as a fact. Some stories needed daylight and a clear head, not wine and a storm and her half-conscious against my chest. That one especially. It wasn't a story I'd told anyone who wasn't already bleeding when they heard it.She stirred around mid-morning, and I watc
Armida's POVI didn't plan on drinking that night. It just sort of happened, glass by glass, until I'd lost count somewhere after the fourth.The wine had been sitting in the pantry since my parents' visit — Cleo, if I remembered right, had shown up with three bottles "for the table" and then spent the whole week too busy crying and shopping to actually open any of them. Nobody had touched it since. I told myself that made it fair game.The first glass was for the rogues. The second was for the way Demetrius's face had gone careful-blank when Jackson said the word, like he was deciding in real time how much of it I was allowed to carry. By the third, I wasn't really keeping track of what each glass was for anymore, just that the couch had gotten softer and the world had gone a little warm and loose at the edges, and that felt like an improvement.I was still there, half-curled into the cushions with the bottle dangerously close to empty, when Demetrius came down from wherever he'd dis
Demetrius' POVThe trail started clean and then didn't.Three sets of tracks, evenly spaced, moving with the deliberate patience of something that wanted to be found eventually — just not yet. Jackson crouched at the second marker, jaw tight, running his fingers along a scuff in the bark where a shoulder had brushed too close."Not sloppy," he said. "Not pack-trained either. Something in between."I already knew that. My wolf had known it the second the scent hit — something matted, uneven, less like discipline and more like hunger wearing discipline as a coat. Lone wolves didn't move like this. Lone wolves didn't move in threes with this kind of restraint."How long have they been circling?""Third pass this week, going by the marker damage. First two, we chalked up to drifters testing wards out of habit." Jackson stood, wiping his palm on his jeans like the bark had left something on it he didn't want. "This one's different. They didn't run from patrol. They waited long enough for p
Armida's POVI spent the morning sitting on the end of my mother's bed while she packed, handing her folded shirts she didn't need handed to her, mostly because it gave my hands something to do besides feel the minutes slipping."You'll call," she said. Not a question."Every week. Demetrius already told Alexander to make sure the line works out here — apparently that's not a given, with the wards.""Good." She zipped the last bag closed, then sat beside me instead of standing, the way she used to when I was small and upset about something she couldn't fix. "I like him, you know. I wasn't sure I would.""Because of what he is?""Because of what he did to you, at first. Before I understood the rest of it." She took my hand, turned it over like she was checking it for damage. "But I've watched him all week. He doesn't perform for us. He's not trying to convince me of anything." She looked up. "He's just trying to be someone you'd be proud to have chosen. That's different."I didn't trus







