LOGINDraven's POVThe touch lasted less than a second.It was enough.Her fingers brushed mine on the book spine, warm, soft, human, and the bond tore through me like a live wire. Max surged so hard my vision narrowed at the edges. The scent of her flooded everything. Clean. Sweet. Under it the faint trace of ink and paper and the quiet fear she still carried even when she tried to hide it.Mine.The word wasn't a thought. It was a demand. Raw. Absolute. The kind that didn't care about temporary contracts or human fragility or the careful distance I had forced for weeks.I took the book. Set it straight. Sat back down like nothing had happened.She left.The door closed behind her and the study felt too small. Too full of the lingering trace of her skin on mine. My hand flexed against the desk. Once. Twice. The knuckles ached with the need to follow, to close the space she had just put between us, to put my mouth on the pulse I could still hear in my memory.Max was past listening.I stood
Thelma's POVI almost walked past the study.The door was half open. Late afternoon light cut across the floor in a long strip. Draven sat at the desk with a stack of papers, pen moving in short, precise lines. He didn't look up when my shadow crossed the threshold.I could have kept going. It would have been easier.Instead I stopped and knocked once on the frame.He glanced up. Waited."I wanted to thank you," I said. The words came out thinner than I meant. I cleared my throat and tried again. "For letting me stay. After everything. The… accusation. The village. All of it. You didn't have to keep me on."Silence sat between us for a second.Then he nodded. Once. Short.That was all.I should have left. The nod was dismissal enough. But my feet didn't move. The quiet in the room felt different from the usual kind, less sharp, less ready to cut. Just quiet."Maya's doing better," I said. "With the reading. She's starting to finish pages on her own.""I know."Of course he knew. He se
Trevor's POVI found Tristan in the side hall near the armory, leaning against the wall like he had nowhere better to be. He was still carrying that loose energy from earlier, the same look he got after he'd stirred something and decided to wait for the fallout."You taught the kid to punch," I said.He grinned. "She asked. I answered.""And the tutor shut you down.""She tried. Kid still got her five minutes." He pushed off the wall. "She's got a spine, that one. Most people in this house measure every word around us. She just told me I was reckless and walked off."I studied him. "You like that.""I find it interesting. Same thing I told you yesterday."Interesting. Tristan's word for anything that hadn't bored him yet. I kept my voice even."She deserves respect. Not the kind of attention you give things you want to play with."He shrugged. One shoulder. Easy. "I wasn't playing. Kid wanted something to hold onto. I gave her a basic stance and a target that wouldn't hit back. Tutor
Tristan's POVMaya wanted to learn how to punch.She said it like she was asking for another story. Serious face. Small fists already up. We were in the side yard after lessons, the backyard one with the soft ground and the low fence. I had only come out to stretch my legs. She had other plans and I was shocked at what was going on in her little head."Uncle Tristan. Show me."I looked down at her. "Show you what?""How to hit. Properly. In case something bad happens here again."Something in my chest pulled tight. This was very sad. The kid had seen too much already. Nightmares. The ritual. The kind of fear that lived in the bones and mind. If she wanted a little control back, I wasn't going to tell her no."All right. Basic stuff only. No heroics okay?."Her eyes lit up …..I dropped to one knee so we were closer to the same height. Showed her how to make a fist without tucking her thumb wrong. How to stand so she wouldn't fall on her face after the first try. She copied everything
Liana's POVThe rumors had only affected her bit.That was the problem. A few pack members stepped aside when she walked past. A few conversations were shortened. A few looks lasted longer than they should have. But that bitch was still here. She was still in the east wing, still sitting with Maya every morning. I still caught Draven's eyes on her when he thought no one was looking.A bit of animosity wasn't enough.I needed her gone.Permanently.I sat in the medical wing after the last of the evening checks, the door locked, the lamp turned low. The house had settled into its nightly quiet routine. The silence helped, fewer prying eyes. Fewer questions. I pulled the old records from the locked cabinet I had always kept for myself, texts that never went into the main library, journals from healers long dead, fragments of pack history most people preferred to forget.Mate bonds.I had avoided the subject for years. It hurt too much. The way Draven had shut down after his first mate d
Thelma's POVI couldn't stop watching it.The cut on his arm. Deep enough that the cloth had soaked through in minutes. Then, less than half an hour later, the bleeding was gone. The skin underneath was already pulling together in a way that made my stomach turn. No human body did that. Not even close.I kept the thought to myself through the ride back. Through the chaos of the wounded being carried inside. Through Maya's worried questions when I finally got back to the east wing after midnight. I told her everything was fine. The village was safe. People were hurt but alive.I didn't tell her what I'd seen on Draven's arm.Sleep didn't come. I sat on the edge of the bed with the lamp on and stared at my hands. They still smelled faintly of smoke and antiseptic. My pulse wouldn't slow down.Something was wrong with this place.Not just the rules. Not just the locked west wing or the way people moved when Draven entered a room. Something deeper. Something that made a man's wounds close







