CHAPTER 10

“Wife.”

The word dropped into the room and detonated.

For a second, nobody moved. Not Xavier. Not Mace. Not Silas with his cold little undertaker face. Even Nicole went still beside me, and Nicole only went still when she was either sleeping or deciding where to hide a body.

I stared at Elder Miriam.

Then I laughed.

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t even really amusing. It came out sharp and wrong, like my brain had slammed into a wall and decided humor was cheaper than a breakdown.

“No,” I said.

Miriam closed the leather-bound book slowly. “Miss Williams—”

“No.” I pointed at the book. “Whatever dusty wolf Bible you pulled that from, no.”

Xavier’s face had gone carved-stone still. “Miriam.”

The elder did not flinch. “She deserves the truth.”

“The truth?” I repeated. “The truth is I signed an emergency authorization form because a man was dying on my table. I did not walk down an aisle. I did not say vows. I did not consent to marry a stranger with a disappearing medical file and a dramatic security team.”

Nicole stepped closer to me. “Also, no bridal party. Huge oversight.”

Mace gave her a look.

She gave him one right back. “Don’t start with me, Big Bad Beta. This is not the time for your silent judgment hobby.”

“My silent judgment is necessary,” he said.

“Your personality is a locked filing cabinet.”

His jaw flexed.

Good. Let somebody else be uncomfortable for five seconds.

Elder Miriam’s gaze softened, but not in a pitying way. More like she knew this was going to get worse before it got better.

“You saved his life,” she said.

“I do that for a living.”

“With your name. With your blood. In the absence of kin. During a death threshold.”

“That sounds like a loophole invented by men who didn’t want to ask women questions.”

A few feet away, Lena made a small noise that might have been an agreement.

Silas’s eyes hardened. “You would do well to show respect.”

I turned on him. “You would do well to remember I’m not one of your people, so your scary-uncle routine is not landing the way you think it is.”

Nicole lifted Jeffrey a little. “I thought it was landing like shit.”

Mace muttered, “Do not threaten Silas with the bat.”

Nicole smiled without warmth. “I haven’t threatened him yet. I’m introducing him to the concept.”

Xavier’s attention never left me.

That was the part making it hard to breathe.

He stood there, tall and broad and too damn present, like the room bent around him whether I wanted it to or not. The old bruising along his jaw should have made him look vulnerable. It didn’t. It made him look like something dangerous wearing a temporary injury.

My wrist burned beneath his gaze.

The marks around it pulsed once.

I tucked my hand against my side.

Xavier noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His voice came low. “Do not hide it from me.”

My temper snapped. “Do not tell me what to do with my own body.”

Silence.

Heavy. Instant. Almost physical.

Xavier’s eyes sharpened, and for one breath, the cold king vanished. Something raw showed underneath. Not anger. Not exactly.

Regret?

No. I didn’t trust that.

“I did not mean it that way,” he said.

“Then speak better.”

Mace’s eyebrows twitched.

Nicole looked delighted despite the horror show unfolding around us. “That’s going on a throw pillow.”

Miriam stepped between the tension before it could become something with teeth. “The law is older than human marriage contracts. Older than the North American treaty. It began when Alphas went to war and many died without mates or heirs. If an Alpha crossed the death threshold and another accepted responsibility for his life in blood, the surviving Alpha became bound to that person.”

“Bound how?” I asked.

Miriam glanced at Xavier.

He answered, voice flat. “Legally. Politically. Physically, in some cases.”

My stomach dipped. “Define physically.”

His jaw tightened.

Lena took over, clinical and calm. Bless her. “Marks. Sensory awareness. Pain or distress echoing across the bond. Heightened protective response from the wolf. It varies.”

“The wolf,” I repeated, because apparently that was a normal sentence now. “His wolf.”

“Yes.”

I looked at Xavier. “You have a wolf.”

“Yes.”

“Inside you.”

A flicker crossed his face. “Yes.”

Nicole leaned closer to me. “I have questions and none of them are appropriate.”

“Save them.”

“I’m trying.”

I pressed my fingers against my forehead. My head was pounding now, a deep throb behind my eyes. Too much had happened too fast. The apartment. The gun. Mace bleeding in the SUV. The crest on the gate. The staring strangers in the foyer. Xavier alive and looking at me like I had set fire to his kingdom by accident.

And now wife.

Wife.

I had once ended a situationship because the man referred to my apartment as “our place” after leaving one toothbrush by the sink. I was not built for surprise supernatural matrimony.

I looked at Elder Miriam. “What does wife mean here?”

Silas answered before she could. “It means disruption.”

Xavier’s head turned.

One small movement.

The room dropped ten degrees.

Silas lowered his chin, but his mouth stayed tight. “It is the truth. The court will see it that way. The rival Alphas will see it that way. A human wife tied to the Alpha King by an archaic blood claim—”

“Careful,” Xavier said.

Silas did not look careful. He looked hungry for the argument. “This cannot be ignored. You know what they will call her.”

“What will they call me?” I asked.

Silas’s gaze slid to me. “Weakness.”

Nicole’s smile vanished.

Mace moved before she did, stepping half a pace toward her, as if he already knew she was deciding between verbal assault and actual assault.

Xavier said nothing.

That was worse somehow.

I swallowed around the tightness in my throat. “And what do you call me?”

His blue eyes returned to mine.

For a long second, he just looked at me. Like he was choosing between answers, each one worse than the last.

“A target,” he said.

Not wife.

Not mistake.

Target.

The honesty was ugly, but at least it didn’t wear perfume.

I breathed out slowly. “Because of your enemies.”

“Yes.”

“Because they think hurting me hurts you.”

“It would.”

The words hit too fast.

Too blunt.

Nicole’s head snapped toward him. Mace went still. Even Miriam’s brows lifted slightly.

Xavier looked like he had not meant to say it that plainly.

My pulse jumped in my throat. “You don’t know me.”

“I know what the bond does.”

“Convenient.”

His eyes narrowed. “There is nothing convenient about this.”

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, everybody gets to decide what I am except me. Wife. Target. Human problem. Weakness.” My voice rose despite my best effort to keep it even. “I signed a form. I did my job. I saved your life. And now your world is trying to punish me for it.”

Something moved across his face again.

This time, I knew it was guilt.

I didn’t want it.

Guilt was cheap if it didn’t come with changed behavior.

Miriam held the old book against her chest. “No one here should punish you for mercy.”

Silas made a sound under his breath.

Xavier’s voice cracked through the room. “Leave.”

Silas’s eyes flicked to him. “Xavier—”

“Now.”

Silas stared at him for a beat too long.

Then he smiled.

It was faint, polished, and empty of anything human.

“As you command, my king.”

He turned and left the room, taking some of the air pressure with him but leaving all the poison behind.

I watched him go. “I don’t like him.”

Nicole snorted. “Babe, nobody with survival instincts likes him.”

Mace’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t defend Silas.

Interesting.

Xavier looked toward Mace. “Double the patrols on the outer road. I want the vehicles identified.”

“Already started.”

“And no one enters the guest wing without clearance.”

Guest wing.

My life had become a sentence with guest wing in it.

I raised my hand. “Question. Are these security protocols or captivity protocols?”

Xavier looked back at me. “You are not a prisoner.”

“Great. Then I can leave.”

“No.”

I laughed once. “That was quick.”

“You can leave when it is safe.”

“And who decides that?”

“I do.”

“There’s the dick.”

Nicole coughed.

Lena looked down, lips pressed together.

Mace stared at me like I had just licked a light socket.

Xavier went very still. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I took a step toward him, close enough now that I caught his scent—clean soap, cold air, and something darker beneath it, like rain hitting cedar. My body, traitorous bitch that it was, noticed. Warmth moved low in my belly despite my fury. “You keep dressing it up as protection, but it’s still control. You don’t get to lock me in a mansion because your enemies have terrible hobbies.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

Only for a second.

But I saw it.

I felt it too, and hated that the air between us changed.

Nicole did not miss it either. Her eyes narrowed like she was making a note in the mental file labeled Potentially Sexy But Still Dangerous.

Xavier’s voice lowered. “If I wanted control, Deena, you would know.”

The way he said my name made the marks on my wrist flare hot.

A sharp little gasp escaped before I could stop it.

Xavier moved.

Not far. Not touching me. But every line of him leaned forward, attention locked on my face.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Your wrist.”

“It’s fine.”

Lena stepped closer. “Let me see.”

Her voice was gentle. Professional.

That I could handle.

I offered my arm to her instead of Xavier because petty was all I had left and I planned to use every drop.

She examined the marks without touching them at first. “Heat?”

“Yes.”

“Pain?”

“More like burning.”

“When he says your name?”

My eyes snapped to her.

Lena’s expression remained carefully neutral.

Nicole made a tiny, strangled noise. “I’m sorry, when he says her name?”

Miriam’s mouth tightened. “Recognition response.”

“Nope,” I said immediately. “No, absolutely not. My body is not participating in werewolf arranged marriage paperwork.”

“It is not arranged,” Miriam said.

“It is worse. It’s accidental.”

Xavier’s jaw flexed. “We will look for a way to sever it.”

The room changed again.

Subtle, but real.

Miriam’s face went grave. Lena glanced at Mace. Mace looked at the floor.

Nicole caught it too. “Why did everyone just get funeral quiet?”

I pulled my arm back from Lena. “Is severing it dangerous?”

Xavier said, “Not for you.”

Too fast.

Too controlled.

A lie in a tailored black shirt.

I stared at him. “Try again.”

His eyes hardened. “There are risks.”

“To whom?”

“Me.”

The answer settled between us.

Unwanted.

Heavy.

I should have felt relief. If this bond was his problem more than mine, good. He was the supernatural king with the mansion and the scary wolves. I was an exhausted ER nurse with dirt on my sneakers and a dead plant back home.

But instead my chest tightened.

Stupid.

Unhelpful.

Human.

“You don’t get to martyr yourself in my direction either,” I said.

His mouth moved like he almost responded.

Miriam spoke first. “Severing a life-claim bond is rarely simple. It has not been invoked in generations, and never under these exact circumstances.”

“Because I’m human,” I said.

“Because you are human,” she agreed. “And because of that.”

Her gaze dropped to the necklace.

I closed my fingers around it. “This is not part of your law.”

Miriam stepped closer, careful and slow. “May I see it?”

I hesitated.

Nicole shifted at my side, her presence steady as a hand on my back.

Miriam waited. She didn’t grab. Didn’t command. Didn’t look offended by the fact that I didn’t trust anyone in this house.

That helped.

A little.

I lifted the charm but kept the chain around my neck.

She studied it, and the lines around her mouth deepened. “Old work.”

“How old?”

“Older than it should be if your grandmother bought it as jewelry.”

“She didn’t buy it.” My voice softened despite myself. “She wore it for years. Then she gave it to me when I was sixteen.”

“What did she tell you?”

I could hear Grandma Mae’s voice so clearly it hurt.

Keep this close, baby. Not because you’re fragile. Because some doors only respect a key.

At sixteen, I had thought she was being poetic. Grandma did that. She made grocery lists sound like scripture.

I looked at Miriam. “She said it was for protection.”

Mace’s expression darkened.

Xavier’s eyes stayed on the charm like it was a blade pointed at his throat.

Miriam whispered, “Evelyn Mae Williams.”

“You know that name?” I asked.

She didn’t answer fast enough.

That was answer enough.

I stepped closer. “Do you know my grandmother?”

Xavier’s gaze moved to Miriam.

Warning.

Miriam closed the book. “Not personally.”

“Do not play word games with me.”

Nicole pointed at her. “She hates those. I enjoy them, but she hates them.”

Miriam looked genuinely regretful. “There are records. Possibly. I would need to confirm before I say more.”

“Records in this house?”

“In the library.”

“Then let’s go.”

“No,” Xavier said.

I turned slowly. “You are developing a real addiction to that word.”

“The library records are sealed.”

“By who?”

“Me.”

“Unseal them.”

Mace made a low sound. “It isn’t that simple.”

“It never is with rich men and their secret rooms.”

Xavier’s eyes flashed. “Those records involve bloodlines, treaties, deaths, wars you do not understand.”

“Then educate me.”

“Not tonight.”

“Why? Because I’m tired? Because I’m human? Because you think my delicate little brain can’t handle wolf politics after surviving twelve-hour ER shifts and grown men who think a fever of 103 is fixed by Gatorade?”

His lips pressed into a hard line.

I pushed forward. “You keep saying human like it’s supposed to explain my limits. I work with blood, death, panic, assholes, grieving families, and surgeons who think coffee is a food group. You’ll have to try harder.”

For one breath, his expression changed.

Respect.

Reluctant, but there.

Then the wall came back down.

“You will have answers,” he said. “But not while my territory is being tested and you are exhausted.”

“My exhaustion is none of your business.”

“The bond makes it my business.”

“The bond can kiss my ass.”

Nicole whispered, “Put that on the second throw pillow.”

A sound burst from somewhere near the doorway.

I turned.

Talia stood there with a tray of coffee and water, eyes huge, mouth pressed shut like she had been fighting for her life not to laugh. Behind her, at least four people pretended they had not followed to eavesdrop.

Talia cleared her throat. “Coffee?”

I loved her in that moment.

Maybe not loved, but appreciated with intensity.

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”

She came in carefully and set the tray on the table. Her hands shook just a little.

I took a mug. Nicole took one too, still watching everyone over the rim like she expected poison. Fair.

The coffee was hot, strong, and normal.

I nearly cried from gratitude.

Xavier watched me drink it with a strange expression.

“What?” I asked.

“You were nearly kidnapped less than two hours ago.”

“And?”

“You are drinking coffee.”

“Do werewolves not have coping mechanisms?”

“Not usually in mugs.”

“That’s tragic.”

Nicole lifted hers. “Coffee is the only reason humans haven’t burned civilization to the ground.”

Mace looked at her. “That is not historically accurate.”

“You don’t know that.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it.

Small victories mattered.

Then the lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Every conversation in the house stopped.

Mace’s hand went to his side, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t visible but was definitely there. Lena moved toward the doorway. Miriam clutched the book tighter.

Xavier turned his head toward the windows.

Something inside me tightened before I knew why.

A low howl rose from outside.

Not like before.

This one was closer. Urgent. Cut short.

The mug warmed my palms, but my necklace turned hot against my chest.

Too hot.

I sucked in a breath and dropped the cup onto the tray hard enough that coffee sloshed over the side.

Xavier was in front of me before the sound finished.

“Deena.”

There it was again.

My name.

Heat burst down my wrist and through the marks like a match struck under my skin.

I grabbed his forearm without thinking.

The second my fingers touched him, the room tilted.

Not physically.

Worse.

I felt something.

Not a thought. Not a memory. A sensation so powerful it stole the breath from my lungs.

Trees.

Blood.

Rage.

A massive dark shape moving through the garden.

Red eyes in the dark.

I jerked back. “What the hell was that?”

Xavier stared at me.

For the first time since I had met him, the Alpha King looked genuinely shocked.

Miriam whispered, “She felt the wolf.”

Nicole set her coffee down very slowly. “I’m sorry. She felt the what?”

Outside, something slammed into the side of the house hard enough to rattle the windows.

Someone screamed down the hall.

Mace cursed and ran.

Xavier moved toward the doors, then stopped and looked back at me.

His blue eyes were no longer just blue.

Something red burned behind them.

I forgot how to breathe.

“You wanted proof,” he said, voice rougher than any human voice should be. “Stay behind me.”

The glass doors burst open to the garden, and a dark brown wolf the size of a nightmare stepped into the light.