Chapter 7

Sable's POV

"What do you mean, warned you about?" I asked.

Bram's grip on my wrist didn't loosen. If anything it got tighter, like he was trying to keep me from disappearing before he finished saying whatever was stuck in his throat.

"Bram." Rook's voice cut in, sharp. "Let go of her arm."

"She's got the mark," Bram said, ignoring him. "The one everybody's been talking about since the rogues hit the east ridge. They said Ironclaw's Alpha used the Words on some girl."

"That's enough," Rook said. "You're in shock. You're not thinking straight."

"I'm thinking fine." Bram's eyes finally left my collarbone and found my face instead. "Who told you to come here?"

"Nobody told me anything," I said. "I ran. Ivy found me."

He didn't look convinced, but the fight seemed to drain out of him along with whatever adrenaline had kept him talking. His hand slipped off my wrist, and his eyes rolled back before closing completely.

"He's out," Ivy said, checking his pulse. "But he's breathing steady. Whatever you did worked."

I sat back on my heels, arms shaking, the strange warm feeling in my hands gone as fast as it had come. My whole body felt hollowed out, like something had been scraped clean from the inside.

"Get him back to camp," Rook said. "Careful with that side."

Two wolves lifted Bram between them, moving slow and steady toward the trees. Ivy helped me up when my legs wouldn't cooperate on their own, and the walk back felt twice as long as the walk out here had.

By the time we reached the Hollow's main camp, word had already spread. I could feel it in the way people looked at me, the way conversations dropped low the second I walked past. Whatever Bram had said out there in the clearing, it hadn't stayed a secret for long.

That night, a dozen or so wolves gathered around the central fire, and I wasn't invited, but I could hear every word from where Ivy had told me to wait near the supply tent.

"He nearly died out there, and she's the reason those rogues were in our territory to begin with," a man said. His voice carried an edge I recognized from Reva, the kind that decided things before anyone else got a say.

"She didn't bring them here on purpose," Ivy said. "She's the one they were hunting."

"That's exactly the problem." Another voice, older, rougher. "An Ironclaw Alpha doesn't waste the Words on nobody important. Whatever she is, it's got somebody's attention, and now it's got ours too."

"She saved Bram's life tonight," Rook said. "That should count for something."

"Or it should scare us more," the older voice shot back. "What kind of omega heals a gut wound with her bare hands? That's not pack magic. That's something else."

The fire crackled loud enough to fill the silence after that. I pulled my knees up to my chest and stared at the ground, listening to strangers argue over whether I deserved to exist in their camp.

"She stays," Rook said finally, flat and final. "I found her. I'm responsible for her. If anyone's got a problem with that, take it up with me directly instead of talking around a fire like a bunch of gossiping pups."

Nobody answered right away. I heard someone shift, a log settling in the flames, boots scraping dirt.

"You've done this before," the older voice said, quieter now. "Taken in strays who bring trouble with them. Doesn't always end well for the rest of us."

"Noted," Rook said. "Anything else?"

More silence. Then, slowly, the group started breaking apart, wolves peeling off toward their own tents without another word. I stayed where I was, not sure if I was supposed to move yet, not sure where I even belonged in this camp full of people who clearly didn't want me here.

Ivy found me a few minutes later and sat down next to me without saying anything at first.

"That went about how I figured," she said eventually.

"They don't want me here."

"They don't trust anything they don't understand. That's different." She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. "Give it time. Most of them came in here the same way you did. Scared, bleeding, no idea where else to go. They'll remember that eventually."

"And if they don't?"

"Then you learn to not need their permission." She stood, offering me a hand up. "Come on. You look like you're about to fall over."

I let her pull me up, my legs still unsteady from whatever I'd done to Bram's wound. We walked back toward the tent Rook had pointed me to earlier, past the last few wolves still lingering near the fire's dying embers.

One of them stepped into my path before I could pass. He was older, grey through his beard, the same rough voice from the argument by the fire. Up close his eyes had a hard, calculating look to them, like he was still deciding something about me even now.

"A word," he said, not really asking.

Ivy stopped walking. "Whatever you've got to say, you can say it in front of me."

"This won't take long." His gaze dropped to my collarbone, same as Bram's had, same as everyone's seemed to lately. Before I could step back, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, hard enough to make me gasp.

"Let go of her," Ivy said, reaching for her knife.

"I'm not going to hurt her." He didn't let go. His grip stayed tight, his voice dropping low enough that only the three of us could hear it. "I just want her to understand something before she gets comfortable here."

"Then say it and let go," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He leaned in close, close enough I could smell woodsmoke and something bitter underneath it, like herbs gone stale.

"That mark isn't a rejection," he said. "It's a leash. You just don't know who's holding it yet."

He let go of my wrist and walked off into the dark before either of us could respond, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding and his words sitting heavy in my chest, refusing to make any sense at all.