A Wolf at War

Cael regretted the words the second they left his mouth.

“This is a mistake.”

The lie burned like acid on his tongue.

The girl—no, the woman—he had just dismissed stood frozen in place, the mating bond stretching between them like a drawn wire. Her scent had hit him like lightning. Wild rain. Ash and jasmine. It was her—there was no doubt in his body or soul. His wolf had surged the instant their eyes locked, clawing for her like it had waited years in silence just to see her face.

And he’d turned away.

Because he had no choice.

Because he couldn’t afford to want her.

He clenched his jaw as he walked beside Elias, pretending not to hear the silence behind him, pretending not to feel her, even as the pull of the bond pulsed low and painful in his chest.

“How was the journey?” Elias asked casually as they entered the longhouse where the pack council waited.

“Quiet,” Cael said. “Too quiet, near the southern ridge. You’ve lost control of your border.”

Elias arched a brow. “We’re aware. That’s why you’re here.”

Cael didn’t respond. His hands were balled into fists at his sides.

He wasn’t here for alliances.

He was here for war prep.

And now, thanks to the goddess’ cruel humor, he was also bonded—fated—to a Crescent-born she-wolf. The same pack that had killed his father.

His wolf snapped inside him, furious at the rejection, even more furious at his coldness toward her.

But it had to be done.

He couldn’t be distracted by softness, not now. Not when rogue wolves were growing bolder. Not when his Beta whispered of unrest in their ranks. Not when Shadowclaw needed a leader, not a lovesick fool bound to a woman who belonged to the enemy.

Still… her face haunted him.

Dark hair pulled into a braid, strands sticking to her sweat-slicked skin. A scar just beneath her chin, faint and silver like moonlight. She wasn’t what he expected. She wasn’t weak. She had looked at him like she already knew him.

He’d expected Crescent wolves to fawn, to simper.

But she had met his gaze.

And his heart had betrayed him for it.

He sat at the far end of the long table, opposite Elias. The Crescent Moon elders filtered in, along with a handful of warriors, including the girl’s Beta—Maren, he recalled.

Not her. She didn’t come.

Good. That was good.

The air was dense with tension and the scent of territory. Cael tried to breathe through it. He forced himself to focus on the conversation.

But behind every word was a whisper.

She’s yours.

He gritted his teeth.

He hadn’t expected to find her here. He hadn’t expected to feel… anything.

And yet—

When their eyes met, something in him broke. Something ancient. Something he didn’t know he’d been missing.

He’d never believed in fate. Bonds, yes. But not the storybook mate bond. That was something for legends and fools.

Until her.

Hours passed.

The summit dragged.

Proposals were made. Border patrols offered. Shared supply routes suggested. Elias was as careful as ever—measured and calm—but Cael saw the cracks beneath the surface. The Crescent Moon pack was strained. Vulnerable. They needed this truce more than they let on.

And now he knew their greatest weakness: the girl.

His girl.

A flicker of guilt twisted in his stomach. She wasn’t their weakness.

She was his.

He left before sundown, ignoring the call to stay for supper. His wolves followed without question, but his mind lingered behind.

Back there.

With her.

They made camp just north of the Crescent border, beneath a ridge thick with pine and mist. The men spoke in low voices. Some laughed. But Cael stood apart, staring into the dark woods.

He knew she was close.

He could feel her.

The bond was a constant hum now, like an itch beneath the skin. The more he resisted it, the more it clawed at him.

He would not give in.

Could not.

Still…

His wolf paced.

Still…

He dreamed of her.

And when he finally fell into a restless sleep beneath the stars, her scent followed him into the dark—warm, wild, and unforgiving.