Chapter 32

Lincoln's POV

Logan got himself banned from summer camp, but the rest of the unit still attends. Mark, my father’s beta, checks in now and then if something serious happens, but otherwise… silence. It should make me anxious, not knowing what my father and brother are plotting. Instead, it feels like breathing for the first time. Distance is its own kind of freedom. Still, at the back of my mind, I know I’ll have to challenge him soon. For Zahra.

My unit makes it easier. Sam’s as steady as they come—calculating, relentless. Jackson’s quick, sharp-minded, cocky sometimes, but always solid when it matters. Isaac’s the joker, always ready with a grin, but his fists hit just as hard as mine when things go bad. We’ve bled together, and that matters more than anything else. When we spar, we know each other’s tells. When we fight, we cover each other’s blind spots. They’re the brothers I should have had but never did.

It didn’t happen overnight. It took too many hours sparring until we could barely stand, countless arguments over whose socks were left in the middle of the floor, whose turn it was to cook, and far too many nights of laughter and beer. Jackson, Isaac, Sam—we’ve been through enough at AC to bind us tighter than blood. They take me as I am: surly, short-tempered, not exactly the life of the fucking party. But dependable when it counts. We’ve fought side by side enough times to know what we are to each other.

‘They’re good for us,’ Lex rumbles, quieter than usual. He’s always liked them—likes that our unit’s filled with wolves we can trust.

‘Don’t start getting sentimental now,’ I shoot back, but even I can’t deny it. For the first time in my life, I’ve found something that feels solid under my feet.

As the others chatter about their mated bliss, I let my mind wander. Tobias gets it. I never had to pretend with him. We spent a lot of time together after our units all mated, before he graduated. Since leaving AC last year, he’s been harder to reach—traveling constantly, working with the packs and meeting with the other supernatural races. I miss him. I miss our friendship. I hope he’ll show up for some of camp this year. It won’t be the same without him.

I also hope Zahra will be here—but I know she won’t. She wasn’t invited this year, and I’m sure she’s got better things to do with her first summer away from the academy since she started.

Still, my mind drifts, circling back to her like it always does. I don’t say her name out loud, not even to Lex, but it’s there—under my skin, constant. What does she look like now? How’s she doing? Has she changed? Of course, she has. It’s been three years. I wonder if she still laughs the same way, unrestrained and careless about who’s watching. I wonder if her eyes still flash when someone underestimates her. I wonder—fuck. I shouldn’t be wondering any of this.

‘You should be with her,’ Lex growls, sharp enough to sting.

‘I don’t know her anymore,’ I snap back.

I slam the door on him before he can say anything else. I can’t go there—it’s too painful. Part of me still aches for Zahra, but it’s not fair. She has her own mate out there. So, do I. I need to let this go, this childish infatuation. It was one summer. One goddamn summer three years ago. I haven’t even laid eyes on her since. But no matter what I do, I can’t get her out of my head.

I know I’m not the only one. There were plenty of drunken discussions at the academy about her—before everyone mated up and moved on, anyway.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, dragging me back to the present. Around me, the others are deep in conversation about this year’s teams and the challenges kicking off tomorrow.

“You guys are bound to do well this year,” Brant says. “Apparently, they’re keeping us in our pack units to mix things up.”

I sit up at that. “That’s a break from tradition.” They usually like to split us up—it helps us mix with different packs and forces cooperation. This way will only stoke more competition.

“Apparently,” Brant shrugs. “I guess we’ll see when they post the lists.”

“But you guys are all looking massive,” Arlo says, eyeing us. “Training’s been going well since we last saw you then?”

I grin back at him. “Yep.”

Isaac smirks across the table. “You could say that.”

“Holy shit.”

Sam’s voice cuts through the easy chatter, sharp and angry. The tone alone makes everyone at the table look up.

“What?” I say, my voice already hard. That didn’t sound like some throwaway expletive. “What’s happened?”

Sam’s eyes are wide, the glow of his phone lighting his face. “Group chat. Listen to this.”

I sit up straighter, something cold coiling low in my gut.

He starts to read; “Zach says they’ve just arrived at Zahra’s graduation.

I said wow, wish her luck from us.

Then Oscar fucking said that Henry’s just told them he thinks her boyfriend’s hurting her.”

Everything stops. My hands tighten on the edge of the bench until the tendons stand out and the wood groans. Breath seizes in my chest. Around me everyone straightens, eyes snapping to Sam. A low rumble moves through the group. Lex sits up, growling in my mind.

“What the fuck did you just say?” The words come out a snarl, half me and half Lex.

Sam flicks a nervous look at me but keeps reading. “Max said that she winced when Zach hugged her. She blamed it on training, but Henry apparently said she hasn’t been training hard for days. He thinks her ribs are broken. And there’s a handprint bruise on her arm.”

My claws dig into the table. I breathe through my nose, hard and slow, trying to contain Lex, he's fighting up storm and he wants to act. Fury burns through me, bright and sharp, shredding the calm I usually keep like armour. Jackson swears. Brant growls. I slam my fist into the bench and the wood splinters under the blow. My vision narrows to a tight tunnel.

'Men who hurt women deserve death.' Lex’s voice is a low rumble in my head, a promise that vibrates through my bones.

“Agreed,” I say out loud, and there is no pretending it is quiet or measured. My voice is a blade. My mother took enough, and I promised myself that would never happen to someone I cared about. Now Zahra is bruised, flinching at touch she should trust. The thought makes something in me go hot and savage. I will find the bastard and I will end him.

The air feels charged around the table, as Each of us reels, trying to rein in our wolves. The fury is thick enough to taste. My chest is tight. I press my forehead into my fist to stop the shout that wants to burst out. I won’t say the plan aloud. Not here. Not yet. Lex and I are on the same track, and there is no room for hesitation.

Whoever touched her is already dead in my head. He just doesn't know it yet.