‘Why would our mate do this to us? I thought he returned for us, but he tricked us!’ Nuri's wolf whimpered, pacing frantically inside her as Nuri rushed to the door and grabbed the handle. It refused to budge. She jiggled it harder, then paused, hearing the heavy click of the lock sliding into place. Her heart dropped, but she couldn’t just accept it. Not without trying.
"I don’t know, but I won't accept this. And neither will you," Nuri growled. She punched the door with the side of her fist, wincing slightly at the impact before spinning toward the balcony. Ripping the doors open, she stepped into the cool evening air. Her eyes scanned the scene below—the drop from the balcony to the ground had to be close to fifty feet. A shiver of uncertainty slid down her spine.
“How far do you think that is?” she murmured.
‘I’m not sure, Nuri. It doesn’t look too far—but what if he did that on purpose? Maybe he wants us to jump. Maybe he wants us hurt or dead.’
Nuri leaned over the railing, watching the way the bushes swayed gently in the breeze, like they were beckoning her forward. Her wolf’s words echoed in her mind, stoking a new flame of rage. "You think he would do that? Pretend there’s a way out just to watch us fall?"
‘He said we weren’t his mate,’ her wolf snapped. ‘Why would he keep us alive if we mean nothing to him? We’re a threat to everything he believes he is.’
Nuri’s fingers gripped the railing tightly. Her pulse throbbed at her temples. She forced herself back into the room before her impulsiveness took over. Her body trembled, not with fear—but fury.
She didn’t want to fall. She wanted to fight.
“We need a way to test how far that drop really is,” she muttered. Her voice was sharp, focused. She yanked open dresser drawers, but they were all empty. So was the closet. Even the bedside tables held nothing—not a pen, not a single piece of paper.
“What the hell?” she growled under her breath. She paused, ears straining for the sound of approaching footsteps. Silence. Still, she didn’t trust it. She exhaled carefully and turned to her bags.
‘Check them,’ her wolf urged. ‘Your parents might have slipped something helpful in without telling you.’
"Wishful thinking," Nuri muttered, kneeling beside her luggage. She unzipped the first bag and began tossing clothes over her shoulder. A blouse hit the lamp. A pair of jeans landed halfway on the bed. Nothing but clothes. The second bag offered more of the same.
“Just clothes and toiletries. Great,” she hissed.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” Kalmin’s deep voice boomed from the doorway.
Nuri jumped with a gasp, spinning around to face him as her heart slammed against her ribcage. Her hands flew to her chest.
"I’m not doing anything!" she snapped, struggling to get her breathing under control.
Kalmin leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. He scanned the chaos—clothes scattered, drawers on the floor, closet wide open. His gaze slid back to her, predatory and unreadable.
"What were you looking for, hybrid?"
His tone was calm, almost lazy. But the way he stepped into the room, the way his eyes darkened as he approached her—there was heat beneath the surface. Nuri felt it. Felt it in the way her breath caught, in the way her wolf stirred, wary but not entirely unwilling.
Nuri swallowed hard and straightened up, keeping her voice cool. "My parents didn’t pack any period supplies. Since you’re planning on imprisoning me, I thought maybe you would’ve had the foresight to provide some."
Kalmin arched a brow. The surprise on his face was fleeting. He narrowed his eyes. "You aren’t on your cycle, Nuri. Want to try that again?"
"How would you know that?"
He stepped closer. She tried not to flinch.
"Are you forgetting who and what I am? Or perhaps what we are? If you were in heat, I’d know. And so would our wolves."
Nuri’s heart stuttered. Her wolf let out a low, sheepish growl. 'Damn. Didn’t think about that!'
Nuri lifted her chin defiantly. He was close now—too close. She could smell him. That clean, earthy scent mixed with danger and heat. "I didn’t say I was on it, Alpha. I said I was looking for it."
She held his gaze, refusing to back down. For a long moment, the air between them crackled.
Kalmin exhaled sharply through his nose. “Clean this up. Then come downstairs for dinner.” He turned without another word, slamming the door behind him.
Kalmin's jaw was tight as he descended the stairs. His wolf was still silent. He poured himself a glass of scotch and sat at the dining table, staring at the wood grain until it blurred.
‘Still not speaking to me?’ he asked silently.
Silence.
Then: ‘Why are you treating our mate this way?’ The voice returned with a quiet fury.
Kalmin slammed the glass down. “Because she’s not our mate.”
‘Liar. She is. You know it. Instead of trying to break her, you should be building her up. You gave her parents your word—teach her. Help her.’
“And should I teach her to stop being a hybrid, too?” Kalmin snapped.
His wolf didn’t answer, because he couldn’t. The footsteps approaching gave him an excuse to look away.
Nuri entered, silent. She sat at the farthest end of the table. A she-wolf entered behind her, placing a plate in front of each of them before quietly excusing herself.
“I’m going to assume I’m not allowed to leave the house,” Nuri said.
Kalmin didn’t look up. “You assume correctly.”
Nuri stared at the plate—meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn. It smelled incredible. Her stomach growled. But she didn’t touch it. Didn’t speak. She stood, turned, and walked away.
‘Nuri, why would you do that? We’re so hungry, and we don’t know when he’ll let us eat again!’ her wolf grumbled unhappily as Nuri ascended the stairs and closed her bedroom door. She lay down on the bed, holding her stomach, which was churning in protest. ‘We’ll need our strength to survive this—both mentally and physically.’
“I don’t know,” Nuri admitted honestly. “Eating that food would mean giving in to what he wants to do to us, and I won’t accept that.”
‘We cannot and will not accept what the alpha wants to do to us, Nuri. We will stay strong, and we will prevail,’ her wolf murmured as she and Nuri began to drift off to sleep, too tired from the events of the day to try to stay awake.
∞∞∞
‘Kalmin, we should bring her dinner; she needs to eat!’ Kalmin’s wolf exclaimed as Nuri stormed out of the room and headed back upstairs. Kalmin felt his wolf wince as she slammed the bedroom door, then whined softly as Kalmin stayed seated instead of chasing after her.
"She chose to storm off; she can deal with going without food. She's an adult—it's her decision not to act like one," Kalmin said, bowing his head to eat. However, after a few bites, he realized he had lost his appetite. "Calm down; I'm trying to eat!" he growled, aware that his wolf was the reason for his sudden loss of hunger, the taste in his mouth turning to ash as he chewed. If his wolf wanted to, he could influence Kalmin's moods and even manipulate him into feeling emotions he wouldn't usually experience—like making his food taste disgusting, when, in reality, he hadn't eaten at all that day and was ravenous.
‘If you’re willing to let her starve, then maybe you don’t deserve to eat either,’ his wolf snarled.
“Fine. I’ll take her dinner up when I’m done. Happy?” Kalmin asked, shaking his head. His wolf didn’t respond, but Kalmin could feel its agreement and relief as his appetite slowly began to return.
Once Kalmin finished his dinner, he carried both of the plates into the kitchen and reheated the dinner that Nuri hadn’t touched before setting it on a tray and carrying it to her room.
Nuri lay asleep on top of the covers, golden hair splayed across the pillow. Her breathing was soft. Peaceful. She was stunning.
‘How could you want to hurt her?’ his wolf whispered.
Kalmin stepped closer, set the tray down. He should have left. But he couldn’t. His fingers twitched. He reached out, brushing a silky strand of hair from her cheek. The moment his skin touched hers, she shifted slightly, leaning into his hand with a soft sound of contentment. Kalmin’s chest tightened.
‘She wants us,’ his wolf breathed.
'No,' Kalmin told himself. 'Her wolf wants you. Nuri doesn’t.' He tore his hand away, turned, and left without another glance.
Nuri’s eyes snapped open. She sat up slowly, her gaze settling on the tray. ‘Think his wolf made him do that?’ she asked.
‘Does it matter?’ her wolf replied, voice dreamy. ‘He touched us. He wanted to.’
Nuri hesitated. Then she picked up the fork and took a bite. Her eyes closed. “Oh my God,” she murmured. “This is amazing.” Her wolf purred in agreement.
‘He’s trying to break us, but all I have to do is wait,’ Nuri thought, chewing slowly, thoughtfully.
‘Wait for what?’
Nuri smirked. ‘He thinks he can break me. But I’ll break him first.’
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