Chapter 7

They kept me close after the attack.

Too close.

I learned that within the hour, when the Alpha ordered that I be moved into the inner quarters — not mine, but his. The decision was delivered like a command issued to the entire pack, not a suggestion open for debate.

No one argued.

That scared me more than the rogues had.

The room they put me in was adjacent to his, separated by a thick stone wall and a door that didn’t lock from the inside. It wasn’t a cell. That almost made it worse.

“This is temporary,” he said, standing in the doorway as guards took up position outside. “Until we identify the leak.”

“And if you don’t?” I asked.

His gaze held mine. “Then it becomes permanent.”

I swallowed. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I already have,” he replied.

The bond hummed low, not painful, but aware — like it was listening.

He turned to leave.

“Wait,” I said before I could stop myself.

He paused.

“You said the rogues were captured,” I continued. “What did they say?”

His jaw tightened. “Enough to confirm intent. Not enough to name names.”

“So someone inside your pack wants me gone,” I said quietly.

“Yes.”

“And you’re keeping me here to protect me,” I said.

“And to control variables,” he added.

I let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “At least you’re honest.”

He studied me for a moment. “Honesty does not equal kindness.”

“No,” I agreed. “But it’s easier to survive.”

That earned me a look I couldn’t read.

He left without another word.

The hours dragged.

I could hear movement through the walls — voices, footsteps, the low rumble of arguments carried just far enough to know they were happening without catching the details. I tried to rest, but every time I closed my eyes, the memory of claws slashing air too close to my skin replayed itself.

The bond pulsed softly, responding to my unease.

I hated that it knew.

A knock sounded at the door.

Not the guards this time.

The Alpha entered alone, his expression darker than before. Blood stained his knuckles — not his.

“They talked,” he said.

I sat up straighter. “And?”

“And they were paid,” he replied. “By someone who wanted proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“That the bond weakens me,” he said flatly.

My chest tightened. “Does it?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he crossed the room and stopped in front of me, close enough that the air between us felt charged. The bond reacted instantly, heat spreading under my skin in a way that made my breath hitch.

“Look at me,” he said.

I did.

His eyes searched my face, sharp and focused, like he was looking for cracks. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

“No,” he said finally. “It doesn’t weaken me.”

Relief flickered before I could stop it.

“But it exposes me,” he continued. “And exposure invites challenge.”

“So what happens now?” I asked.

“Now,” he said, “we make it very clear that you are not leverage.”

My stomach sank. “How?”

He straightened. “You will appear with me tonight. Publicly.”

A cold knot formed in my chest. “As what?”

“As mine,” he said.

The words landed heavier than any threat had so far.

“I don’t want that,” I said.

“I know,” he replied.

“And you’re doing it anyway.”

“Yes.”

The bond stirred, uneasy but not punishing. Like it was waiting to see what I’d do.

“If I refuse?” I asked quietly.

His gaze sharpened. “You won’t.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is,” he said. “Because refusal now would be interpreted as instability. And instability invites blood.”

I looked away.

This was how it happened, I realized. Not with force, not all at once. With choices that weren’t really choices at all.

“Will you touch me?” I asked.

The question surprised us both.

His expression shifted — not anger, not softness. Something cautious.

“Only if necessary,” he said.

“For show?”

“For control,” he corrected.

I nodded slowly. “Then don’t pretend it’s something else.”

“I won’t,” he said.

Night fell fast.

When he returned for me, I barely recognized myself. Clean clothes. Hair brushed back. Nothing extravagant — just presentable enough to be seen without shame.

The hall was already full.

The moment we entered together, the room went quiet.

Every eye followed us.

The Alpha’s hand settled at the small of my back, light but unmistakable. The bond flared at the contact, heat rushing through me in a way that made my steps falter for half a second.

He tightened his grip, steadying me.

Not unkindly.

Not gently either.

“Breathe,” he murmured, too low for anyone else to hear.

I did.

We moved through the crowd like a single unit. Whispers followed. Speculation. Calculation. I could feel it pressing in from all sides.

This was the message.

I wasn’t alone.

And I wasn’t free.

Someone stepped forward — Garrick.

“Bold,” he said, gaze flicking between us. “After today.”

The Alpha’s hand remained firm at my back. “Necessary.”

Garrick’s eyes lingered on me. “She looks calm.”

“I am,” I said before thinking.

Both men looked at me.

The Alpha’s grip tightened just slightly — a warning, not a punishment.

“Good,” Garrick said. “Because everyone is watching.”

“I know,” I replied.

The truth of it settled heavy in my chest.

As the Alpha guided me deeper into the room, the bond thrummed steady and alert, like it was bracing for something it hadn’t decided to fear yet.

And for the first time since this began, I understood something clearly.

This wasn’t just about survival anymore.

It was about what the pack believed.

And tonight, I was no longer just a risk.

I was a statement.