“She was just leaving,” Matthias said, his tone clipped, sharp enough to make Raine flinch. Something about the way Killian was looking at her made Matthias’s chest tighten, and he hated the way something cold and sharp clawed beneath his ribs. It was jealousy. And Matthias hated it more than he’d ever hated anything else. Raine moved to retreat immediately, head down, but Killian was not done with her yet, his voice followed her as she went, soft and almost casual. “It’s hard on everyone,” he said, his words deliberately gentle. If Matthias didn’t know any better, he’d think the alpha was actually worried for her. “Grief takes a toll on the body. You look unwell, Raine.” The woman froze again, likw a deer caught in headlights. Matthias’s hands curled tighter around the chair. Raine’s reply was quiet, her voice strained, barely above a whisper. “I’m fine.” But Killian still wasn’t done with her, he continued, his tone light, but his gaze never wavering from her, there was somethi
Matthias could not remember the last time the pack house had been this quiet. It must have been decades ago, and even then it had been a sort of quiet that was far different from this one, soft hush of peace and warmth as the wolves settled in after a full moon’s hunt. This was a different kind of silence, brittle and worse, it was the quiet that settled after the screaming stopped, After the digging was done and the fires burned themselves down to embers and there was nothing left to watch but ash cooling on the wind and the scent of freshly turned earth as his life’s blood was reduced to nothing but food for maggots. Matthias was going mad. He had been in this seat since before dawn, a heavy-backed chair that groaned beneath his weight, as the scent of smoke and iron settled thick in his lungs. The embers in the fireplace still burned low, its flames half-hearted, as if even they were tired of pretending to bring warmth. He hadn’t slept since the funeral. The war table was litter
Raine should’ve known better. She should’ve known it wasn’t going to be as easy as slipping away and pretending nothing was wrong. She should’ve known the universe was out to punish her, of course it was. Her feet were unsteady on the worn dirt path leading back toward the pack, the forest around her was thick with fog and cold, it was a creeping dampness that clung to her skin like a second layer. Every step she took felt heavier than the last, her breath was coming in shallow bursts, her chest was too tight, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, she knew she wouldn’t move again. The weight of it all hadn’t left her since she stumbled out of that alley, since she’d seen Killian standing there, calm and composed, his sharp gaze cutting straight through her like he’d already carved her open and picked apart every secret inside. His voice still echoed in her ears, smooth and quiet, curling around her throat with the same ease as a noose tightening. You’ve been busy. She could fee
The walls had begun to close in on her. Raine could feel it in the way the air thickened with every step she took inside the pack house and every passing glance sharpening against her skin, even though no one looked at her for too long. No one suspected. Not yet. But it didn’t matter. She felt exposed anyway. She couldn’t breathe here,not with the weight of her secret curling tighter beneath her ribs, not with Lyra’s words still lingering in her ears, soft and ominous, a warning she couldn’t forget. Secrets had a way of coming out eventually. She needed air, and fuck she needed space. By nightfall, she was slipping past the borders, her steps light, careful, her heart pounding far too loudly in her chest as she crept beyond the safety of the territory. She told herself it was only for a few hours. It wasn’t like she was running. But she was lying to herself, the same way she had been lying to everyone else. The town was quiet by the time she reached it, cloaked in the soft, mut
Two days after Silas Draven was put to rest, Raine finally cornered Lyra. Well, it wasn’t exactly a cornering, as it was a confrontation. That morning, Lyra came into her room with good news, the wolfsbane was finally out of her system, and her legs were completely healed. She still couldn’t speak to her wolf yet, but Lyra assured her that the sensation would be back in due time. She removed the last of the cast dressing and cleaned up Raine’s legs. When she was done, she moved to the other side of the room, and made herself busy. The silence in the room dragged on for a painfully long time, until Raine couldn’t take it anymore. “Lyra, you haven’t told anyone anything have you?” She asked tentatively, “About. . .the. . .baby I mean.” Lyra hummed noncommittally, glancing at Raine over her shoulder as she fiddled with her instrument. “No. You made me swear to keep it a secret. Why would I go behind your back, I have nothing to gain.” “Right, yes.” She said, swallowing as panic sett
Matthias hated himself. He hated everything surrounding this situation. He looked at Raine, and the guilt rose like bile in his throat, thick and choking, until he could barely breathe around it. He wrenched his gaze away from her, his jaw clenching hard enough to crack bone, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He couldn’t afford to unravel here, not in front of her, not in front of anyone. The pack was still watching, waiting for their alpha to get a grip. When the last of the earth had been thrown and the funeral rites ended, the crowd began to scatter, their murmurs soft and reverent as they drifted away in small clusters. But Matthias remained where he was standing, rooted to the spot, staring down at the freshly covered grave, his breath dragging rough and uneven from his lungs. He didn’t even hear Raine approach. But he felt her, unsurprisingly. She came to stand behind him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body, soft and steady agains