Chapter 8

~Kaelen’s pov~

Finn’s laugh crackled faintly over the phone, the kind of easy sound that came too quickly to be real. I leaned back in the chair, pinching the bridge of my nose as I listened. He was good at pretending better than most but I’d known him long enough to recognize when he was covering something.

“Don’t tell me you’re still sulking,” Finn teased. “Not your fault the girls lined up like moths and your wolf couldn’t bother to twitch.”

I let out a low breath, part annoyance, part humor. “Sulking? You mistake boredom for sulking. There’s a difference.”

Cold,” Finn said, though I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Admit it, Kaelen, you’d be miserable without me.”

“You mean without your endless complaints?” I allowed a rare chuckle. “Or without you eating through my kitchen every time you’re here?”

“Both.” He was grinning, I could picture it.

Finn chuckled again. “If you say so, Alpha.”

The word always rolled out of him laced with a taunt. He used it like a jab, never with reverence. That was Finn my Beta, my brother, my friend. The only one who could get away with it.

“Tell me you at least looked one of them in the eye,” he pressed. “Gave them a shot?”

“I gave them all a shot,” I said dryly. “It was the same every time. Desperation dressed in silk, smiles too wide to mean anything. My wolf barely stirred. Two weeks wasted.”

We moved on, as we always did. Talk turned to the pack.

“No rogue attacks since you left,” Finn reported. “Borders are holding fine. Patrols steady.”

“And the treaty with Blackthorn?” I asked.

“Signed. Their Alpha’s cautious, but they agreed to exchange patrol routes for the next moon cycle. Strength in numbers, all that.”

Good. At least something was going smoothly.

The conversation wandered, as our talks always did half strategy, half banter.

The familiar banter stretched on, grounding me for the first time in weeks. Talk drifted to the pack: patrol rotations, recent border scuffles, trade agreements we were negotiating. No rogue incursions, nothing that demanded my immediate return. That eased the coil of tension at the base of my neck.

A silence stretched for a moment, broken only by the faint shuffle of movement on Finn’s end. He cleared his throat, too casual. “Well… Lena will be glad you tried. You know how she nags me about

“And Lena?” I cut in, sensing the turn. “How is she?”

“She’s fine. Still driving me insane with her schedules and lectures,” he muttered, but his tone was fond.

“And?” I asked, waiting.

Finn’s voice carried a warmth when he spoke of her. “Lena’s fine. Still bossing me around, keeping the house in line, you know how she is.”

I allowed myself the faintest smile. “She always did like order.”

Just then, a sound bled through the receiver faint at first, then clearer. The slam of a door downstairs. I sat up a little straighter.

“Speak of the devil,” Finn muttered under his breath.

Through the line, I heard her Lena’s unmistakable voice, bright and warm. “Babe? Where are you?”

Finn raised his voice in reply. “On the couch!”

Footsteps followed, light but quick. Another voice drifted upward, this one softer, unfamiliar. A note of laughter carried through, light as air, brushing against me in a way that made my wolf snap to attention.

I gripped the phone tighter. “That wasn’t Lena. Who was that?”

A pause. Too long. Finn’s laugh came out forced. “That’s uh…Lena. You know her. Loud as always.”

My tone dropped. “I know Lena. I’ve known her for years. That wasn’t her.”

Another silence. Then Finn exhaled, like he’d been caught. “It’s… her cousin. Aria. She’s staying with us for a while.”

The name landed sharp in my chest. My wolf stirred, claws pressing against me.

I sat forward. “Cousin?” My voice dropped into suspicion before I could stop it.

“Funny” I said evenly

I’ve known Lena for years, Finn. Not once have I heard of a cousin.”

Finn gave a short laugh, the kind people use when they’re buying time. “Ah, well, you know how families are. Complicated. She’s staying with us for a while, nothing dramatic.”

But I heard it, the hesitation, the weight under his words. He was hiding something.

I let it slide, for now. Finn was stubborn, and prying would only make him shut tighter. Still, the name clung to me: Aria.

My wolf snarled at the name, demanding more, demanding closer. My grip tightened around the phone until it creaked.

It was only a voice. A stranger’s voice. Nothing more.

I ended the call sooner than I meant to, before Finn could hear the edge in my breathing. The room felt too small, the silence too sharp.

For a long moment, I sat there, staring at the darkened window. My reflection stared back at me: black hair falling into my eyes, jaw clenched too tight. Behind it, I could almost see the ghost of my wolf, prowling restless.

I thought of my parents, of the kind of bond they’d once had. The bond that had shattered them both in the end. I thought of the Selection halls, of perfumed strangers and hollow words. And I thought of that voice light, fleeting, but enough to make my wolf leap for the first time in years.

I ground my teeth. “It’s nothing,” I told myself. “Two weeks. Then I return to the pack. No more games.”

But my wolf growled again, low and defiant.

And for the first time in years, I couldn’t quiet him.