Jace sat on his bed with his hair still damp and a towel wrapped around his waist. He couldn’t feel his hands, not because they were numb, but because everything else was screaming so loudly inside his head that his body had gone quiet to survive. His mind replayed the moment Rhett had said it out loud, to the Summit, in a room full of pack leaders, envoys, and a woman known for stripping Alphas bare with three questions and a polite smile. He had stood there, without flinching, and claimed Jace. Claimed him as his mate. Jace stood still long after the meeting adjourned, Mira at his side, her shoulders squared in that infuriatingly elegant, lethal way she did when holding the world back with sheer force of will. He envied her composure because inside him, a war was happening. One part of him, the Beta, the soldier, was doing threat assessment, calculating fallout, replaying every word of the Summit exchange, and mapping weaknesses in their defense. But the man? The man was shak
Mira had worn armor before. Not the tactical kind, though she had plenty of that, but the emotional kind. The kind that kept people from seeing the wolf beneath the uniform. The kind she’d needed her whole life to survive duty, rejection, war. But this… this was different. This time, she had to armor everything—her instincts, her scent, her bond. Someone was coming who had the authority to rip their lives apart, and if the Council decided she was part of a triad mating, she wouldn’t just be reassigned; she’d be exiled—or worse. She stood at the edge of the training ring, watching pack members spar in the morning haze. The earth smelled like ash and pine. Sweat clung to the air. And beneath it all was the low pulse of adrenaline that never quite left her since the night of the Kalyven attack. Behind her, Rhett was speaking with Kellen. Jace flanked her right side, pretending to observe footwork but glancing at her every other breath. They were close. Too close, and every second fe
The forest was alive with the pounding of paws and breath. Moonlight flickered through the pines as the pack ran in full form—wolves streaking through the trees in a tide of fur and muscle and freedom. For one night, there were no monsters, no politics, no hidden bonds. Just instinct and freedom. Rhett ran at the front, Mira at his flank, Jace trailing just behind. Their bond hummed in the space between them, not touching, not acknowledging, but present. This was how they worked. Wild, wordless, powerful. His wolf thrived on it. Until it was shattered. A hawk’s cry overhead—three sharp bursts. A signal. Urgent. Rhett slowed, then stopped, shifting in a breathless flash of fur to skin as he stepped toward the messenger. Beta Kellen, clothes in hand, stood stiff-backed at the tree line, already halfway dressed. Rhett yanked his pants from the pile where he’d stashed them and gave a growl. “What is it?” Kellen hesitated, then: “A Summit observer’s been dispatched. They’ll arrive w
“Have you found your mate?” The words echoed through the Summit hall like a dropped blade. Rhett didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe for just a moment. He could feel Mira’s heartbeat across the room, a sharp spike of adrenaline laced with panic. Jace didn’t shift, but Rhett knew him well enough now to feel the sudden tension winding tight in his chest. The smart thing would be to deny or, better yet, deflect, but Rhett had never been a coward, and the moment he opened his mouth, mating instinct spoke before politics could catch up. “Yes.” The room shifted. A quiet intake of breath from someone in the second row. A rustle of papers. Mira’s spine went rigid in his peripheral vision. Thorne’s eyes sharpened. “You’ve accepted a mate bond?” The air stretched thin. Rhett didn’t break her gaze. “I have.” Her head tilted slightly. “And your mate is…?” He let the pause drag just long enough to gather all eyes, then said evenly, “Jace Rowan.” It hit the room like a thunderclap. E
They were going to watch her. Not the way a soldier watches an enemy. No, this was worse. This was political scrutiny—cold, exacting, and unrelenting. Mira had seen it before, at training summits and disciplinary boards, but never like this—never when the thing under the microscope was her heart. The Summit gathering wasn’t a battlefield, but it might as well have been. The only difference was that the wounds would be invisible unless she let them show. So she dressed with care, straightened her posture, silenced her wolf, and stepped into the hall like a weapon that had never been touched.The gathering room was formally arranged, with the task force, Summit officials, Alpha, and Beta seating. The symbols of allied packs flanked the main wall. Each leader brought quiet expectations, their judgments carefully concealed behind patient smiles.Mira took her seat near the task force delegation. Not beside Rhett. Not beside Jace. That had been deliberate. Distance was a strategy, even i
Lena didn’t believe in coincidences, not in battle, not in behavior, especially when an Alpha, his pack liaison, and a visiting Betabegan operating as though they were one breath, one thought, one heartbeat. She leaned against the far end of the barracks hallway, arms crossed, watching Mira slip quietly into the Alpha wing once again.It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last, but what mattered was why. Her encryption logs were protected. Standard Summit protocol allowed her to bypass local pack channels, and she kept it that way for a reason. She didn’t trust Rhett Calder, not because he was reckless. The opposite, actually. He was controlled, and control was often the best place to hide corruption. Or something else. Something deeper.Like a forbidden bond.The reports were mounting, unofficial, observational, and quiet, but they painted a picture she could no longer ignore. Calder’s refusal to disc