C4

Elira Ashwyn startles, her dark brown eyes widening as she tilts her head up to meet Kaedrin Thornvale's intense grey gaze. "If I am not Cerys Ashwyn, who else would I be? That is a ridiculous accusation."

She tries to keep her voice even, but her pulse hammers in her throat. She signed the blood contract in place of Cerys under the Ashwyn clan name. If Kaedrin realizes the swap before Garrick Ashwyn releases the silver tokens to the healers, Elder Maelis will die of shadow-rot in the den.

Kaedrin narrows his eyes, his mountain-Alpha instincts picking up on the subtle shift in her scent. The rumors about Cerys Ashwyn described a vain, haughty female who refused to touch common ground and spent her nights drinking mead with wealthy pack heirs.

Yet this plush, short female in front of him accepted his bare stone lair without a single complaint. She didn't turn her nose up at his lack of pack status, nor did she scream when he threatened to kill any male who touched her.

He stepped back, tossing his dark leather tunic across a wooden chest. "It was just a thought. Forget I asked. Is there anything else you want to establish before I retire for the night?"

"No," Elira says quickly, her breathing finally evening out. "We have our agreement."

She glances toward the small sleeping alcove. There is only one raised pelt-covered platform in the corner of the cabin.

Kaedrin catches her staring at the solitary bed. "There is only one pile of furs. I'll sleep on the stone bench by the hearth tonight. You take the alcove."

Elira stares at him, surprised by the sudden offer from a rogue warrior. "Are you sure? You are a massive male. You won't fit on that narrow bench."

"It is uncomfortable," Kaedrin growls, stepping back into her personal space until his chest almost touches her face. "If I wanted to sleep comfortably, I'd crawl onto those furs with you right now and take what my wolf is demanding."

"You... you misread my words!" Elira gasps, her face flushing hot as she backs away until her hips hit the wooden table. "I didn't mean that at all!"

Kaedrin reaches out, catching her waist before she can bruise herself against the hard edge. His large hand is blazing hot through her thin linen dress, his thumb rubbing a small circle against her hip bone. "Then what did you mean, little stray?"

Elira's heart thuds violently against her ribs, her core instantly throbbing with a sharp, traitorous pulse of heat at his possessive grip. "I said we are mates in name only! You gave your word!"

"I can easily change my mind," Kaedrin purrs into her ear, his breath hot against her neck as his fingers slide higher up her ribcage. "A real mate bond feels much better than an empty agreement on paper."

"No!" Elira snaps, her hands pressing firmly against his chest.

Kaedrin lets out a low chuckle, releasing her waist and stepping back with a wicked grin. "Get into the bedroom, Elira."

Elira doesn't wait. She turns on her heel, rushes into the alcove, and slides the heavy wooden bolt into place. She leans against the timber door, her chest heaving, her dark skin burning with an undeniable spark of arousal that frightens her.

She pulls a heavy iron dagger from her sash and sets it on the small stool beside the bed before collapsing onto the furs.

When morning comes, the bright winter sun streams through the shuttered window. Elira opens the wooden door cautiously, expecting to find the massive warrior lurking near the threshold.

Instead, she sees Kaedrin curled up on the narrow stone bench, his long legs dangling off the edge, wrapped in a single tattered wool cloak. His sharp, ruthless features look almost peaceful in the morning light.

Elira smiles softly to herself, feeling a wave of relief that he respected her boundary. She quietly steps into the small kitchen area, pulling out eggs, salted boar meat, and dried winter herbs from the storage cellar.

She lights the small stone hearth, slicing the meat and frying it over the iron grate until the rich scent of warm fat fills the cabin.

Kaedrin’s eyelids flutter open. His grey eyes instantly track the short, full-figured female moving around the hearth in a simple apron.

For a second, his mind drifts back to his childhood before his mother was driven out of the high courts. The quiet warmth of the hearth brings back a memory he thought he had buried forever.

He sits up, running a heavy hand over his jaw. "You didn't have to prepare food."

"Eat," Elira says, placing a wooden plate of hot meat and griddle cakes on the table. "I need you to clean the iron pans when you're done. I have to go to the healer's den in the main territory today."

Kaedrin pulls a chair out, taking a large bite of the warm meat. The rich flavors hit his tongue, making his wolf rumble in genuine satisfaction. "This is better than anything served in the high pack halls."

"Don't flatter me," Elira replies, pulling her heavy fur shawl around her shoulders and grabbing her pouch. "Just make sure the hearth fire is dead before you leave."

She steps out into the crisp morning air, hurrying down the path toward the main territory to check on Elder Maelis's treatment.

Ten minutes after Elira disappears into the trees, a heavy, black-armored carriage drawn by four massive shadow-wolves pulls to a halt in front of the small cabin.

Fenros Greymane, a high-ranking Beta commander dressed in silver-threaded leather, leaps down and knocks urgently on the timber door.

Kaedrin opens the door, holding a half-eaten griddle cake in his hand. "What is it, Fenros?"

Fenros blinks in absolute shock, staring at the plate in his Alpha's hand. "Lord Kaedrin... I brought fresh venison and golden mead from the high estate kitchen. I didn't think you would touch the food in a border shack."

"I've already eaten," Kaedrin says flatly, stepping aside. "Throw that away and clean these iron plates in the basin."

Fenros stands frozen, his mouth open in total disbelief. "You... you want me to do dishes?"

"You heard me," Kaedrin growls, his low Alpha tone instantly making the Beta straighten his spine. "And report. Did the Ashwyn clan release the silver tokens to the medicine wolves for the old female as agreed?"

Fenros shakes his head, his expression turning grave. "No, My Lord. I intercepted a message from Lady Morwen. She kept the silver for herself and ordered the healers to dump the old nurse on the outer territory borders by noon."

Kaedrin’s grey eyes turn instantly black as his wolf surges to the surface. "They broke the blood treaty before the sun even set."