Kalmin stood at the base of the stairs, his broad frame blocking the hallway as Nuri’s parents lingered nearby, silent and uncertain. The tension was suffocating, thick with unspoken fear and quiet defeat.
"You should go now," he said flatly, eyes fixed ahead.
Bella opened her mouth as if to protest, but Alvin laid a hand on her arm, silencing her. "Will she be safe?" he asked instead, voice low.
Kalmin’s gaze snapped to him, unreadable. "She’s mine. I’ll keep her alive."
It wasn’t the comfort they were hoping for, but it was the only assurance he’d offer. Bella nodded stiffly, and without another word, they slipped out the door, leaving behind the daughter they didn’t fight for.
Kalmin exhaled, jaw clenched as the door shut behind them. The silence that followed was heavy—final.
Nuri came back down the stairs, throwing her backpack on top of the pile of her things by the front door. They were packed and waiting, a cruel reminder of the reality she was about to face. ‘My parents really think it’s okay for this man to just take me away? What kind of parents just stand by and let this happen?’ she thought, a sharp sting of betrayal cutting through her chest.
Without thinking, she kicked the suitcases with all the force she could muster, the heavy bags slamming into the wall with a harsh thud. “Mom? Dad?” Her voice echoed in the empty house as she checked the living room, then the kitchen. But the place felt too quiet—no signs of life, no familiar presence.
‘They left.’ The thought struck her like ice water, soaking deep into her bones. No note. No goodbye. Just silence. Cold, empty silence where love used to live.
"Nuri, let's go," Kalmin's voice broke through her search. He was standing in the doorway, his tone sharp as he watched her for a moment, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I have things to do."
Nuri’s heart pounded in her chest as she whirled to face him. "I don’t care what you have to do. You aren’t the boss of me!" she snapped, her eyes narrowing as she glared at him, the rebellion in her stance making it clear she wasn’t going down without a fight.
‘He’s our mate, Nuri. And he’s the alpha. Don’t forget that,’ her wolf reminded her softly, a gentle but firm reminder of what they were up against as Nuri knelt to retrieve her bags.
Nuri’s chest tightened, but she didn’t let the thought show. Instead, she clenched her jaw. ‘Just who does he think he is, coming in here and—'
"You know, you could make this easier on yourself," Kalmin’s voice cut through her thoughts, his eyes gleaming with a hint of annoyance. "Set down the bags."
Nuri stared at him, fury rising in her chest, but then she glanced down at the heavy bags she was struggling to hold. With a growl, she dropped them on the floor and pushed past him. "You’re really something, you know that?" she muttered under her breath, but the words only seemed to amuse him.
"Maybe I am. But I don’t make a habit of letting women struggle." Kalmin’s voice softened slightly, though his smirk didn’t fade. He was already picking up her bags with one hand, moving with surprising ease for someone so large.
Her hands balled into fists, her frustration building again. ‘I am not going to like this. I know it.’
The car ride was quiet, the only sound the steady hum of the engine and the soft rhythm of the tires on the road. Kalmin drove with one hand on the wheel, his other hand resting lazily on the gearshift, his gaze flicking toward her every so often like he was trying to decipher her thoughts.
She kept her body angled away from him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her jaw set in a stubborn line. Her mind, however, wouldn’t rest. It churned with thoughts and questions she had no answers to.
"Do you think it’s different in a human’s head?" she asked suddenly, her voice low and thoughtful, breaking the quiet like a crack of thunder. "I mean, I wonder if they just have one voice in there. Us—wolves, we hear the other side of us."
Kalmin glanced over at her, his brow furrowing slightly as if the question had caught him off guard. “Absolute madness, I’d assume,” he said with a short, dry chuckle. “We have our inner voices, our wolves. But humans… I think they only have themselves to talk to.”
Nuri nodded slightly, the thought settling into her mind like a puzzle piece falling into place. Then, silence wrapped around them again, thick and suffocating, as her wolf stirred restlessly beneath her skin.
‘He’s our mate,’ her wolf said again, but this time there was no urgency, no command. Just a sadness, an echo of something she couldn’t ignore.
Nuri didn’t answer, her mind a tumult of emotions she didn’t know how to untangle. Eventually, exhaustion dragged her eyelids down, the steady rumble of the car and the monotony of the road lulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep.
She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but the sensation of being lifted from her seat jolted her awake, a rush of adrenaline shooting through her veins.
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" she growled, her voice hoarse with sleep as she immediately pushed against Kalmin’s strong grip.
"You were asleep," Kalmin muttered, his voice rough with frustration. "I’m just carrying you to your room."
Nuri stared at him in disbelief as he set her down gently, his hands leaving her with an unsettling finality. She blinked a few times, still groggy, watching him unload her suitcases from the trunk. But he didn’t respond, already heading inside.
She followed him up to the second floor, her eyes scanning the room. It was beautifully furnished, but it all felt so alien. She had no say in any of it. The weight of her new reality settled heavily on her chest.
Kalmin set the bags at the foot of the bed, then turned to her. "Welcome home," he said, his voice heavy with a mix of finality and command.
‘Home,’ The word hit her like a knife to the chest. The word was meant to comfort, but it felt like a betrayal instead, like something cruel being forced upon her. She didn’t answer him right away. Instead, she walked to the balcony, stepping out into the cool night air. The view was breathtaking—the pack’s hunting grounds stretched out below her, the river gleaming silver in the distance, but it wasn’t hers. It never would be.
She turned back to face him, her gaze hardening, her jaw tightening as she confronted him. "What are you hoping to achieve with this, Alpha?” she demanded, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Do you think you can force me to want you? I don’t care about the bond we share. I’m not going to accept you."
Kalmin’s lips curled into a small, mocking smile as he walked to the door, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. He stopped just before the door, hand hovering over the handle before he glanced back at her. "You won’t accept me?" he asked, his voice laced with dark humor, though it did little to mask the tension that thickened the air. "I don’t accept you either. But the fact remains: whether we like it or not, we’re mated. And you’re living here now."
He exhaled, and for a brief moment, his gaze softened—a fleeting crack in the armor that was so carefully constructed. But the mask of control returned quickly, settling back into place.
"I can’t change who I’m mated to," he continued, his voice returning to its hard edge. "And neither can you. As for your parents—well, they didn’t exactly fight for you, did they? The pack would’ve seen you as weak, staying there. I’m sure you understand."
The words hit her like a slap in the face, and despite herself, her hands trembled. But she fought the urge to crumble, to show him just how much his words had cut.
"You kidnapped me," she bit out, her voice low but dripping with sarcasm. "You didn’t take me; you took my choice."
"I told your parents I was taking you," Kalmin replied smoothly, his eyes narrowing just slightly. "And they packed your bags. You’re eighteen now, Nuri. You should’ve been gone already."
‘Gone,’ she thought bitterly. ‘But not like this.’
"I love my parents," she spat, her voice low but steady, even though it tasted bitter, like poison on her tongue. "And they love me."
Kalmin’s eyes hardened, and his lips thinned into a tight line. He didn’t respond, instead walking toward the door with slow, deliberate steps. He reached for the handle and pulled the door shut behind him, the soft click of it echoing in the silence that followed.
But then, there was the sound of a much louder bolt being shoved into place, and Nuri didn’t need to check to know what it was. He’d locked her in.
Her heart raced in her chest as she stared at the door, the realization settling like a stone in her stomach. Her world, the one she’d known and thought she understood, was slipping away—and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
The night held its breath.Outside their window, the forest was alive in its quiet way—leaves rustled high in the trees, branches creaked as animals slipped past unseen, and the moon cast a silver wash over the world. It should have felt peaceful.But peace wasn’t what lingered in the air.Something heavier pulsed in the quiet, thick and electric and waiting. As though the earth itself knew something unfinished still stirred. Something else was rising now. Not lust. Not comfort. Pulling.Inside their home, time had slowed to a crawl.Nuri lay in the center of the bed, her limbs bare, her skin marked in the ways she welcomed. Soreness curled through her hips, a dull ache low in her belly. Kalmin had taken her again and again like she belonged to him, and she did. The bruises were proof. The bite marks. The claw scratches on his back.He lay beside her now, one massive hand curved around her thigh like he was still claiming her in his sleep, only he wasn’t asleep.She could feel the hea
The morning air had teeth. It sank into skin like a warning, cold and sharp, coiling tight in every breath. Nuri stood at the top of the packhouse steps, the wind tugging at her hair, unmoved by it. Below, wolves gathered—clustered, quiet, but restless. No one spoke. No one asked why they’d been summoned.They didn’t need to. They could feel it.The energy in the courtyard was thick and taut, an electric hum that pressed in against every ribcage. Something was coming. The kind of something that never ended gently.Kalmin stood beside her. Not touching. Not towering. Just there—shoulders squared, spine straight, jaw locked tight. For once, the Alpha made no move to dominate the space.Because today wasn’t his. But it had to start with him.Kalmin stepped forward, and the pack felt it immediately—that shift in weight, that instinctive pull toward the one wolf whose word had once meant law and death in the same breath. Backs straightened. Eyes dropped. Tension coiled tighter.They rememb
The tires hummed against the road, the steady rhythm doing nothing to quiet the chaos inside him.Kalmin’s hands stayed clenched on the steering wheel. Not too tight—but tight enough that his knuckles stood pale against the leather. Every so often, he glanced sideways, as if he couldn’t help checking whether Nuri was still beside him.She was.Still and silent in the passenger seat, arms crossed over her chest, jaw set like carved stone. Her eyes didn’t move from the windshield. Her breathing was even. Too even. The kind of controlled calm that told him she was anything but.She hadn’t spoken since they left the house.And Kalmin hadn’t dared to break that silence.He wanted to say something. Anything. That he didn’t trust Ellery with her. That maybe this was a bad idea. That she didn’t owe that bastard a second of her breath. But he also knew this wasn’t about Ellery.This was about Peter. And it was about her.He’d spent so long trying to protect her from the truth that he hadn’t st
“I owe you an apology, Temp,” Nuri said aloud, voice steady but quiet. Kalmin’s green eyes flicked to hers, widening in surprise. Then they softened, his shoulders easing as if her words lifted some invisible weight. She needed to say it aloud. Needed Tempest, Kalmin, and Rian to hear it.‘Why do you owe me an apology?’ Tempest’s voice echoed gently in her mind, laced with confusion.Nuri’s lips twitched with a wry smile. “I was mad at you for mating with Rian. For forgiving him before I forgave Kalmin. But the truth is—without you, we’d still be stuck in this endless tunnel of hurt. Still holding each other at arm’s length, waiting for… well, I’m not really sure what I’d be waiting for. I don’t think I ever would have even considered forgiving you if it weren’t for Rian telling Tempest the truth.” She breathed out a quiet laugh and drew in a deeper breath, her eyes focused on the river flowing beneath their feet. The water shimmered with early light, deceptively calm, mirroring her t
Nuri stayed in her room for hours, drowning in the silence left behind after the fight that morning. She’d told Tempest to stay quiet, and she had. Not a single word. Not a flicker of thought. The stillness had settled so deeply between them, it started to feel like a loss all its own.And still, every time guilt crept in—every time she caught herself missing her wolf—rage flared hotter.Tempest had betrayed her. She’d gone behind her back and slept with Rian. Even if he hadn’t killed Peter the way they thought, he’d still lied. Still manipulated. And Tempest had chosen him anyway. She chose to complete the mate bond without even speaking to Nuri first.No matter how mad Nuri was, some small part of her wanted to understand. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Tempest had said—that being kept apart from her mate was causing her pain. Real pain. And Nuri had chosen to ignore it.She’d honestly thought Tempest was being dramatic. That she was exaggerating. But maybe… maybe she wasn’t.
Nuri woke to a world that felt undeniably different. The scents around her—earthy pine, warm musk, the faint sweetness of spring blooms—were sharper, more vivid, as if she was breathing in life for the first time. Colors seemed brighter too, every shadow and highlight striking with unexpected clarity, like the world had been scrubbed clean overnight.She blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the open den door, confusion tightening her chest. How could everything feel so altered after a simple night’s sleep?Her nose caught it next—the unmistakable scent of sex, raw and heavy, thick with heat and sweat, clinging stubbornly to the sheets and the bare skin of the man lying beside her. The musky tang hit her like a punch, mixing with the bitterness rising deep in her throat. It was a scent that screamed of possession, of closeness she hadn’t consented to.Her eyes settled on Kalmin, curled beside her, his bare skin glowing softly in the dawn. His chest rose and fell in