Chapter 9: Ashes and Oaths

Asher DravenHart.

I pulled my mouth from hers like it cost me something.

Not because I wanted to stop. Gods no. Everything in me wanted to stay right there, anchored to her warmth, to the taste of her, to the soft, breathy way she said my name like it belonged on her tongue.

I pulled away because the moment was too big to hold only with a kiss.

Her arms were still looped around my neck. Her breathing was uneven, eyes were bright and a little dazed, lips swollen just enough to mkae my control tighten again.

Nero prowled under my skin like a storm that was barely leashed, pleased and loud and ravenous for more. 

"Enough, Nero." I warned him, even as my own pulse hammered.

He didn't listen so much as...vibrate a growl in my skull. 

Savannah looked at me and the words she had spoken in that room full of ghosts and musi her me again like a bell:

"I'm staying"

Relief shot through me so hard that it turned to laughter before I could even think about stopping it. 

I wrapped my arms around her. 

Tight. Warm. Not gentle in the way I had been all morning, but gentle in the way you are when holding someting precious and you're afraid that the world might take it if you loosen your grip.

Savannah let you a surprised little sound as i squeezed her against my chest and buried my face in her hair. She smelt of rose and vanilla. Her. 

Nero exploded with joy.

His growling turned into barking. Actual, exhuberant barks that ricocheted through my skull. He sounded like he did when he first found his voice. 

"YES! YES! SHE STAYS! MINE... NO. OURS! KEEP! KEEP! KEEP! HAPPY!"

I felt the energy in my bones. In my ribs. In the way that my muscles suddenly wanted to move like they didn't know how to contain it.

So...

I didn't.

I bent and scooped her up, quickly, like she weight nothing.

Savannah yelped and immediately started laughing, her hand clutching at my shoulders.

"Asher!"

The room blurred. Piano, strings, portrait. All flashing past in arcs of morning light. The world turned into motion and warmth and her laughter spilling into the air like someting that was bright enough to scrub the corners clean of grief.

My own laugh tore free, raw and unguarded. It was a sound that I didn't make often because I had spent years training myself to be stoic. It surprised me even as it kept coming, bright and helpless.

Nero barked evern louder in my head, ecstatic.

"SPIN! HAPPY! SHE'S STAYING! SHE'S STAYING!"

Savannah's laughter came in breathless bursts as she clung to me. Her cheek brushed my jaw when the spin carried her close. Her hair tickled my nose. Her scent flared with each turn. Rose. Then vanilla. Then rose again. My chest felt like it might split with just the impossibility of the moment.

Alive.

Safe.

Home.

I slowed, finally, the world settling back into place. My boots found the rug. My heartbeat steadied enough but still thundered.

I held her close for one more breath, like I needed to confirm she wasn't going to vanish, then set her down gently. 

Savannah swayed a little, still laughing, cheeks flush, hair slightly messy from being spun like a victory flag. She looked up at me, bright, breathless, and her eyes held a softness I hadn't seen yesterday.

"I didn't think that you'd be that happy," she said, laughing through her words, "that I decided to stay."

Happy wasn't even close.

My throat tightened. I lifted my hand and brushed my knuckles lightly along her cheek like I needed to remind myself she was real. 

"You don't have any idea how happy it makes me." I murmured.

Her grin softened, and she glanced around the room again, then back to me with an expression that made my chest fill with warmth and light. 

"Okay," she said, drawing out the word as if she was testing it. "So... if I am staying..."

"Yes?" I asked carefully. Ready for her to change her mind at any second. 

Savannah lifted her chin, trying for confident and landing somewhere adorably determined.

"I want a more detailed tour of the house."

"A tour? That's all?" 

A laugh threatened, fonder this time.

"Yes," she insisted. "Not the 'you're about to have a panic attack so I'm going to shove you in a study' tour. A real one. I want to know where I am. Where I can do. Where I shouldn't. What doors lead to creepy places... with creepy things."

"Creepy things?" I arched a brow.

Savannah pointed at the ceiling as if the house walls could listen.

"This place is full of wolves and magic and... and... telepathic group chats! I'm allowed to assume there are creepy things."

I smiled. I couldn't help it. Wide and real. 

"You are totally allowed to assume."

"Don't you smile at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you think it's cute that I'm trying to be brave."

I stepped closer.

"I don't think it's cute."

Savannah's brows lifted, offended.

"I think it's more impressive," I corrected, and watched her face soften even as she tried to keep the attitude up front.

I laughed, and nodded once. 

"A tour it is then."

Savannah's shoulders loosened, and for a moment she looked... relieved. Like having a plan made the world less sharp.

"But." I added, and the word made her stiffen slightly, "first I need to let everyone know you've decided to stay."

"Why?" her eyes flicked away, then back.

"Because the pack already suspects." I said. "And suspicion turns into rumor. Which turns into problems." I kept my voice calm, "I'd rather control the narrative than let it control us."

Savannah's bravery flickered but did not break.

"Okay..."

The word came out small, but it was still a yes.

Something inside me felt warm again.

I reached for the link. 

Rowan's presence was immediate, like he had been lurking at the edge of my mind all morning, waiting for something to happen.

"Rowan." I sent.

"If this is about the breakfast bets, I swear..." His reply was fast and bright.

"She's staying," I cut in.

There was a beat of silence so sharp it felt like the entire house was holding its breath.

Then Rowan detonated.

"SHE'S STAYING?! Asher... are you KIDDING ME? I TOLD THEM! THEY OWE ME.... I AM A PROPHET!"

The volume of his joy slammed through the link like a cannon.

I physically winced.

Not in pain, just in sheer overload. It was like someone shouted directly into my skull with a megaphone. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, jaw tight, trying to dampen the blast without cutting him off.

But Rowan was still screaming.

"THIS IS THE BEST MORNING OF MY LIFE... NO. SECOND BEST... NO FIRST! I'M TELLING THE PACK! I'M TELLING EVERYONE!"

"Rowan!" I snapped back, firm. 

But there was no stopping him now. He tittered his way out of the link.

"Asher?" Savannah stepped closer, concern knitting her brows, "Are you alright?"

 I opened my eyes, blinking away the mental noise, and let out a slow breath through my nose.

"I'm fine," I said, then huffed a quiet laugh because the situation was ridiculous, "It's just Rowan..."

I looked at her, this little human who had chosen to stay, who kissed me in the room where my parents watched from a frame, and felt my chest twist with tenderness.

"I wish you could hear what I am hearing..." I admitted.

Savannah frowned. "You two on your little group chat thingy again?"

I nodded once.

Rowan chose that exact moment to yell into my head again, somehow he was louder. 

"I'M SO HAPPY I COULD SHIFT! GRIM IS SPRINTING IN MY HEAD, BARKING LIKE A MANIAC!"

Grim.

Rowan's wolf. Big. Slate gray, all sharp ears and too much attitude. 

The thought of him shifting out of pure joy was absurd enought that it just about made my headache worse. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, fighting another wince.

Savannah watched my expression.

"Is he... like, freaking out?"

"Yes," I said, my voice dry.

Her mouth twitched, concealing a smile.

"In a good way?"

"In the loudest way possible," I confirmed. 

As if on cue, Rowan send anothr ecstatic burst to my head,

"SAVANNAH IS STAYING! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS?! THIS HOUSE IS GOING TO EXPLODE! NOT LITERALLY...Well maybe it could BUT STILL. TELL HER WELCOME HOME!"

His last line his different than shouting.

Welcome home.

I glanced at Savannah, her expression softened when our eyes met, like she could feel what he said even thought I know that is impossible. Atleast for right now. 

"Rowan says... Welcome Home." 

Savannah's cheeks warmed instantly, blush spreading fast. She looked away for hal a second, then glanced back at me with a small, unsure smile that made my chest tighten even more.

"That's..." she started, then huffed softly like she didn't trust the tenderness. "That's sweet."

"It is." I agreed, my voice came out quieter.

Rowan's presence still buzzed in my head with joy.

"SHE BLUSHED DIDN'T SHE?" He crowed.

I ignored him, or tried to.

Savannah tilted her head, studying me with a curious but wary look.

"So that's what it must feel like then. That little group chat you have."

"It's not a..." I started, then sighed heavily, because arguing terminology felt pointless when Rowan was still doing cartwheels through my head, "It feels like this when someone is excited and they don't have an outlet."

"I really hope the token lets me hear that someday." She said, her mouth curving into a small smile.

I met her eyes and felt my heartbeat go from sprinting to steady, strong. 

"As do I." I said quietly. 

My smile returned, wide and helpess. 

I couldn't keep it in any longer. 

"Come one," I said, offering her my hand again, "Let's start that tour now."

She glanced down at my hand, then up to my face, someting like anticipation sparked in her eyes. 

She took it, no hesitation this time.

Nero barked once more, making my chest feel full again. His bark was pure joy, because the day had just begun and already everything had changed. 

Savannah's fingers slid into mine. But this time it was different.

Before I could feel the hesitation, the fear. 

Now it felt like she knew it wasn't a new thing. Like it wasn't a choice she was still learning to accept.

After his bark, Nero rumbled in my chest, loud, content, smug about the simple contact. I ignored him with ease, a habit. There were bigger things to manage than my wolf's victory laps. 

I guided her out of the music room and back into the hall, letting the door shut softly behind us. The house felt different now that she said that she would be staying. It's like the walls shifted, the air felt lighter. Like the house accepted her without contest. 

The corridor stretched ahead in the warm morning light, dark wood lightening at the edges. Somewhere deep in the estate, other pack mates started to wake, footsteps shuffled.

I started the tour with the basics. I knew what she needed first was anchors. Landmarks. Places that didn't feel like traps.

We walked past the entry hall, that wide open space where she had first face the pack, where the air still felt slightly charged with her fear and their suspicion. The heavy front doors sat closed, ironbanded and solid enough to stop a truck. On either side sat tall windows. They framed the outside world like painted panels. Snow, trees, and the pale stretch of my territory beyond.

Savannah's eyes flicked to the doors, then back. She didn't ask to leave. And that meant more to me than anything else. Her gaze flicked to the ceiling. The portraits that hung on the walls. The shadows in the corners of the hallway. 

She leaned closer to me and spoke quietly, as if the house itself might be listening in.

"I feel like I am being watched."

I didn't stop walking, but my thumbb brushed over her knuckles, hopefully it eased her self doubt.

"Well. You are." I said plainly.

Savannah jerked her head toward me, eyes wide.

"Excuse me?"

I let out a short breath through my nose, amused at the immediate offense on her face.

"Not like that, little one."

"Sure..." she said flatly, unconvinced.

I guided her past a tall mirror flanked by a pair of sconces shaped like wolves' heads, their iron mouths holding little flame shaped bulbs.

"It's the house mates."

"The... what?" Savannah blinked.

"The pack," I corrected myself, then realized it didn't help, "My pack. There are certain members that live her full time like myself. And they are checking on me."

She slowed her pace, brows knitting together.

"Checking on you?"

"Yes." I said simply.

Savannah glanced behind us like she expected wolves to be creeping up in the hall.

"Why? Aren't you their..." she stopped herself, mouth twisting, "leader guy?"

I his a smile at the clumsy phrasing.

"Alpha."  I corrected her. "And yes I am."

I huffed a laugh, then lowered my voice.

"It's because I blocked them from linking me."

"You can do that?"

"Yes."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

I looked down at her hand in mine, then back to her face.

"Because I am with you."

Savannah's cheeks warmed instantly, color rising like she couldn't stop it.

"That's not really an explanation."

"It is though." I calmly said, "You just don't like how straightforward it is."

Her eyes narrowed at me.

"Then try again. With details."

I slowed our pace so she didn't feel like she had to keep up with my stride while she interrogated me, because thats what this was, and we both knew it.

"Well to start, the pack can reach me through our link constantly," I explained, "Questions. Updates. Requests. Every small thing that could be handled by my Beta, Rowan, but they push it to me because they are anxious."

"About me..." she said, swallowing and looking away, "That sounds exhausting."

"Yes." I answered her statement in one word, "It is."

"So you blocked them out because, what? you said that you're with me. But like I said it's not a full answer."

I let my thumb brush against her knuckles again, brief, warm, intentional.

"Because your attention is more important than answering the same question over and over and over again."

Savannah froze.

Then her face went fully pink, like she hated that my words did that to her.

"Okay," she said, her voice cracking a bit, "So you're basically telling your entire pack to shut up because you're on a date."

"A date..." I repeated, brows lifting.

"Don't you dare..." She said as her blush was already deepening. 

I chuckled, and the sound surprised me again, like how easily it came out around her.

"It's not a date." 

She shot me a look that said liar.

"It's a tour," I corrected. "With a human that insists on calling our telepathy a group chat."

She made a face.

"That's because it is!" 

"Because you want it to be," I countered, letting the teasing edge into my voice. "If you keep on insisting, I'll start calling it 'mind-mail'."

She huffed.

"That's even worse."

"I know." I said satisfyingly, "Now if you'd like to have a date, I can arrange that."

She bumped my shoulder lightly with hers, Nero growled playfully. Then the words finally sunk in.

"I mean... Well... I... uh..." She stammered out.

"We will have a dinner date, how about that? Tonight. I'll have the chefs make your favorite meal." 

She blushed and nodded. 

We reached the top of a wide staircase that led down to the lower floors, veered left into a grand corridor with tall arched windows. Savannah's gaze darted everywhere, taking in the carved beams, heavy rugs, old paintings, antlers that were mounted high on the walls. It was a house built to hold a pack, not impress guests.

Still, I could tell it impressed her.

"Okay..." she murmured, "This place is... huge."

"It has to be. The pack house isn't just a living space for my wolves. It's a stronghold." I pointed to doors as we passed them, giving her a mental map as we went. "This wing here is communal," I said. "Dining hall you've seen. The kitchen is beyond that. Training room and armory are in the other wing. Library and meeting hall on the other side of that."

I saw Savannah perk up.

"You have a library?"

"Yes. We do."

"Like a real one? With ladders and... and... and..." she squeezed her eyes shut.

"A real one. yes." I said, amused. "But it doesn't have cursed tomes or creepy books that whisper in the night."

"I don't believe you." She scoffed.

"Well. See for yourself."

We stopped at a set of double doors, dark walnut, iron hinges, with a carved crest at eye level. Well eye level for me that is. It was a wolf's head howling. The handle was worn smooth from decades of hands opening and closing them. I pushed them open.

Warmth and scent rolled out from inside. Paper, leather, and old ink, the faint sweetness of beeswax polish. It smelled like time. Like storeies pressed into spines and kept safe. 

Savannah stepped inside, slowly, like she expected the room to be trapped. Her boots sank into a thick, woven rug that muted every step. The space opened wide and high, the ceiling arched with dark wooden beams that almost looked like ribs. Tall windows lined one wall, their glass segmented into stained panes that turned the morning light into soft golds and blues, painting long, colorful rectangles across the floor.

Floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the rest of the walls, real shelves, packed tight with volumes upon volumes of every size. Some spines were pristine, stamped with clean titles and crisp pages. Others were cracked and faded with age, cloth frayed at the edges, leather worns smooth. There were shelves of modern binders and printed reports tucked beside ancient looking tomes bound in dark hide, their titles almost unreadable.

A rolling ladder ran along a brass rail on the far side, its wooden rungs polished by years of use. A long central table sat beneath a hanging chandelier of wrought iron and candle shaped bulbs. The table was scarred with use, small nicks from knives opening packages, ink stains, ring marks from mugs being set down in late night study sessions. Several chairs surrounded it, some pushed back at odd angles like someone had stood up too quickly in the middle of a discussion.

Throughout the room, there were small reading nooks too. A pair of high backed chairs sat near the windows, a side table stacked with journals while a magnifying glass laid on top, and a low shelf filled with folded maps. The edges curled, corners weighted down with stones and old paperweights that were shaped like wolves and moons.

Savannah's eyes tracked over everything, widening as she took it in. She moved slowly, like her body couldn't decide what to look at or touch next.

"Oh my Gods..." she breathed, "Okay... This is my favorite room so far."

I watched her for a moment, my chest filling with something at the way she looked happy in here. My small little human, dazzled. The pack house could feel like teeth and stone to someone new. I'm glad that she could see past that.

"You can come here whenever you want," I said.

"No pack rules? Like I can come in here unbothered?" She said, glancing back, her eyes suspicious.

"Only one rule." I said, waiting for her to lean in, "If you pull a book that has a red ribbon tied around the spine, you bring it to me first." 

Her brows shot up.

"Cursed books?"

"No... what is your obsession with cursed books and creepy things?" I asked, laughing, "Those books just have sensitive information. Old treaties and bloodline records. That sort of thing. Things that could get you hurt if the wrong person sees you reading them."

Savannah's mouth pressed into a determined line.

"Noted."

I had a feeling that she was going to read every single one, and most of them not brought to me first.

She drifted closer to one of the shelves, fingers hovering just above the spines without touching, like she was trying to be respectful. Her eyes flicked to a section labeled in neat writing on small brass plates: Territory Lines, Warding Theory, Pack History, Treaties & Arbitration. She followed it along until she got to a different sign. This one was messier, like someone hastily stamped it on brass: "ROWAN'S 'IMPORTANT' FILES." 

Savannah snorted softly.

"He made himself a shelf?"

"He insisted." I said.

"And you let him."

I lifted a shoulder.

"He's persistant."

The moment those words left my lips, my mind betrayed me. Dragging up a memory I hadn't asked for, hadn't wanted, like it had been waiting behind my ribs for the smallest crack.

The library, it was late, the lamps were low. The rest of the house was quiet enough to hear the ticking of the old clock on the far wall. Dust motes floated in the light like slow snowfall. 

Rowan was in front of me.

Not standing. Kneeling.

His gaze tipped up, mischief and hunger wrapped together, while his hands found the waistband of my pants. His fingers teasing the edge like he was testing my restraint. It was like he knew exactly how far he could push before I snapped.

My breath caught in my throat.

One of his hand slid beneath the waistband and I felt his fingers wrap around me.

My mind snapped shut around the memory before it could become anything more than heat and a blur of want. Before my body could react. Before I could do something stupid, something I would regret with Savannah standing right there.

I forced air into my lungs, slowly, controlled, until my heartbeat stopped trying to climb out of my chest.

"Asher?" Savannah called my name, her head tilted, studying me.

I blinked once, twice, dragging my attention back into the present.

"I'm sorry. I'm fine." I said too quickly, then smoothed my tone, "Just... my mind remembered something."

Her brows lifted, immediately suspicious.

"About Rowan?"

I felt heat start to pool low and a blush start to crawl up my neck.

"About his ability to make himself everyone's problem."

"Well, that tracks. Atleast from the little bit I've known him."

She leaned closer to Rowan's section and started reading the titles off like she was browsing a bookstore. The books were a chaotic mix, some genuinely useful, others questionably so, but all jammed together in no particular order.

She pointed to the first spine, reading it outloud, her voice dripping with judgement.

"How to Win and Argument Without Throwing a Punch."

I exhaled through my nose hard.

"He never finished that one..."

She slid her finger to the next.

"Betting against Rowan Pierce: A Historical Account of Poor Decisions."

"That one..." I said, rolling my eyes, "He actually wrote..."

"Of course he did." Savannah flashed a grin and kept scanning, "The Alpha's Bad Moods and How to Survive Them."

I stared at her, my eyes flicking to the shelf.

"That book doesn't exist."

Savannah pulled it out, tapping the cover.

"It does now. Seems like he wrote another one without you knowing."

I sighed heavily and pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose.

"He's dead..."

She moved on, her eyes bright with amusement.

"Advanced Pranks for the Chronically Bored." Then she touched the one right beisde it. This one was a bit thicker, "Wards, Seals, and Silent Alarms: Practical Household Defense."

Her expression flickered/ 

"Okay, that one sounds legit."

"It is." I admitted. "He is very good at what he does."

My mind flashed again, just the same small scene of him on his knees in front of me.

"Very good..." 

Savannah pointed to another, brow raised.

"Fifty Ways to Annoy Your Alpha?"

I sighed again.

"He has tried all fifty..."

She stepped back, letting her grin return like armor.

"This room, this house is like if a magic shool was run by gym bros..."

I stared at her and scoffed.

"What?" she said, grinning, absolutely pleased with herself, "Tell me I'm wrong."

"I'm not going to validate that," I said.

Her grin only widened.

I guided her back toward the doors before my mind could betray me again, before old heat could rise and pool where it didn't belong.

"Come now, little one." I said, "There's alot more to see."

Savannah lingered for one last heartbeat, eyes flicking up the ladder rail to the towering shelves like she was already planning on sneaking back in. Then, she followed me out, still smiling faintly.

She stayed close as we walked down the hallway, close enough that her shoulder brushed mine every few steps. Close enough that the few of my wolves that were walking about in the morning watched her, their eyes following like she was a spark that wandered too close to dry grass.

"Okay." she said, pulling my arm to her, "What's next?"

"Armory." I answered.

Her head snapped up to me.

"You have an armory?"

"Yup."

"Like... weapons? Armor and stuff like that?"

"And security," I said, "If you want to understand how the house is protected, you'd start there."

"Yes. I want to start there." 

Her pace quickened, pulling me along.

I huffed a soft laugh, then lead her down a corridor that grew more practical the farther we went. The rugs became thinner, walls less ornamented. The air cooled, carrying a faint metallic tang. We stopped at a thick, reinforced door. It was made of dark steel that was set in the stone framework of the house. The lock wasn't just a normal lock. It was a combination of physical code, warded seal, and something else. Pack scent recgonition layered in between.

Savannah stared.

"It's like a vault..."

"It is." I confirmed. "There is alot of interesting and important things in here."

"How is it opened?" She glanced around the outside of the door.

I placed my palm flat against a small plate set into the stone. It warmed under my skin and pulsed once, recognizing me. Then a keypad folded out from below it and I punched in a code. Finally I pressed my thumb against a narrow groove in the metal. 

The ward whumped, more felt than heard, and the door clicked open, releasing the bolts with a heavy thunk.

Savannah's eyes widened.

"Okay... that's intense."

"It has to be," I said, pushing the door open.

The armory smelled like oil, metal, and polished wood. Clean. Controlled. It wasn't just a normal, chaotic storage room. Every single thing was in its place.

Racks lined the walls. Not decorative. Practical. Organized. There were blades of different lengths, short knives built for close work, longer swords with grips worn smooth. Several crossbows rested on a central table, their bolts stacked neatly in cases. Along one side sat a cabinet holding firearms, meant for the kind of situation where claws weren't enough. Below them were boxes of specialized ammunitionm each labled in neat handwriting.

There were also things that weren't strictly "weapons" but still looked like they could mess someones day up. Coils of wire, grappling hooks, flash devices, small canisters sealed tight. A row of reinforced vests hung from the numerous pegs and next to them were gloves with hard knuckle plating.

Savannah's eyes tracked everything, absorbing it all like she was hungry. She stepped closer to the central table, fingers hovering above the lineup of items laid out.

"So this is how the house is protected..."

"Only part of it." I said as I watched her walk around the table.

She looked up at me, her brows lifting.

"Part?"

I didn't hear her question, something across the room tugged at my attention. I crossed to the far wall to a stacked grid of monitors. Each one showed a different angle of the estate's perimeter and inner corridors. Cameras on posts, in trees, along the fence at the edge of the grounds, and in hidden corners. I saw the exact same corridor we walked down after leaving the library. The feeds were steady and showing snow and branches swaying in the wind, empty paths here and there. Until one screen flickered with movement.

My eyes narrowed and I tapped the gentleman that was heading the monitors station on the shoulder.

"Bring up Sector 4 please. I thought I saw movement." 

"Yes, Alpha." 

A few keys clacked on the keyboard and Sector 4's monitor flickered onto the larger screen to the left. 

Something shifted behind a stand of trees, too low to the ground for a human, but also too smooth to just be wind. It was the kind of motion that belonged to a body that was moving with intent.

"Rowan." I reached through the link, the thought snapping out clean and sharp.

"What?" His presence hit immediately, bright, alert.

"Do you know if anyone is in Sector 4?" I sent back, keeping my gaze locked onto the screen.

"I don't think so. Let me go and check." 

"Head out as Grim. I wanna have Savannah see what you look like."

"You sure that's wise?" He questioned.

"If she is to be the future Luna, she needs to know." 

Savannah had wondered closer behind me, curiosity pulling her. 

"Are the screens that interesting?" She asked, tone half skeptical, half intrigued. 

I didn't answer right away, keeping my eyes locked on the screen.

"Asher?" she pushed.

I smiled down at her faintly, then nodded toward the screen.

"Watch." I said, and pointed.

She leaned in.

For a moment, there was nothing but snow dusted tree branches and dark trunks.

Then a shapre slid into view.

A wolf.

Not just any wolf.

Massive. Shoulders high, body long and powerful, moving with a grace as it prowled on the screen. I watched as Savannah's arms prickled with goosebumps, the hairs on her neck standing straight. His coat was slate gray, almost blueish black in the shadow, and he moved like he owned the land under his paws. 

I heard Savannah take in a sharp breath.

"Oh my Gods..." 

I glanced at her profile, eyes wide, lips parted, then let my mouth curve.

"Want to know something that I know you're not going to believe?" I asked, stooping to her height, "That..." I pointed to the screen, "...is Rowan."

Her head snapped toward me so face I thought she might hurt herself.

"No it's not."

I nodded, smiling.

She stared at me, like I'd just told her the sky was green.

"But... Rowan is a man."

"Yes, I know that. But as a werewolf we have a couple of forms. That..." I pointed to the screen again, "is Rowan's tracking form."

Savannah opened her mouth, ready to argue, ready to call me insane, when the wolf stopped.

He looked directly into the camera. 

And winked, then nodded.

A slow, deliberate dip of the head. 

"Gods Rowan..." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose and shaking my head.

Savannah went completely still. Her jaw working once.

"No way..." She finally whispered, so soft I barely heard it. 

A presence brushed against my mind, not entirely Rowan's. It was sharper, lower, rougher. All instinct.

"Don't see anyone," Grim sent, his voice growled words into shapes, "But... something has been here..."

My spine went cold. 

"What did you smell?" I sent back, my eyes glued to the screen as I watched him prowl out of frame.

A pause.

Then his answer came blunt and certain.

"Decay. Death."

My jaw clenched. My hands curled into fists at my side. 

I looked to Savannah. I didn't want to alarm her, but I also didn't want to lie. 

I leaned close, kept my voice low.

"Want to know another thing that you're not going to believe?" I whispered next to her ear, "Grim there, just proved that there's a vampire on our lands."

She looked at me like I had just slapped her.

"Did you just say vampire?" 

I met her gaze and nodded once.

Her expression shifted. Shock to disbelief, then immediate denial.

"You're right. I don't believe you. There is no such thing."

I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips, fond, frustrated at how stubborn she can be but still somewhat impressed.

"I admire your stubbornness," I said quietly, "But Grim is never wrong."

Savannah's eyes flicked back to the monitor as if it might confirm she had been hallucinating. She wasn't. The feed showed only trees and snow now, the path clear and empty again.

"Thank you, Grim. You can come home now." 

"On my way." His reply was faint with a note of satisfaction. 

She tore her gaze from the monitor and looked at me like her brain was trying to reboot.

"Who in the hells is Grim?"

"Rowan's wolf." 

She stared.

"No."

"Yes. His wolf's name is 'Grim', just like mine is named 'Nero'."

She shook her head hard, trying to shake the nonsense out of the air.

"Nope. I'm not..." She waved at the monitors, at the world, at me, "I'm not believeing any of this until I see it with my own eyes."

"But, little one, you just did." I softened my voice.

"You know what I mean," she shot back, cheeks pink with frustration, "I want to see one of you actually." She grabbed my shoulder and turned me toward her, "Actually change."

The words hung in the air, daring, reckless.

I looked at her. Her tone was sharp. She wasn't teasing nor was she amused.

She was dead serious.

I held Savannah's gaze until her bravado wavered just slightly.

"Is that what you truly want to see?" I asked slowly.

Savannah held my stare, eyes bright with stubborn disbelief. It was like she expected me to laugh it off, to tease her, and to tell her she was being dramatic.

I wouldn't. Because this wasn't a curiosity question anymore. 

It was a door.

And once it was opened, it didn't close very easily.

"If you see it," I said, low and controlled, "You don't get to unsee it."

 She didn't back down.

"I already can't unsee half of today."

"That isn't the same," I replied.

Behind my ribs, Nero pulsed, hot and eager, like he heard the invitation and wanted to tear the answer out from my bones. The urge to show, to prove, to claim power in front of her... it was right there. Bright and dangerous.

I forced him down.

This wasn't about pride, or satisfying her curiosity. 

This had to be about safety.

Hers. Nero's. Mine. As well as the pack's

I stepped closer to her, close enough that Savannah had to look up at me. The monitors hummed behind me, the air in the armory was cold with metal and oil.

"If you want to see a shift," I said, "We will do it on my terms."

"Your terms?"

"Yes." I glanced once at the wall of screens, at the empty feed where Grim had been, then back to her, "Because if you panic, if you run, if you scream. Someone will hear. Someone will come. And if you bolt into the wrong hall, at the wrong time, this house will eat you alive."

Her mouth tightened.

"I wouldn't..." 

"You don't know what you'd do," I cut in, not trying to be rude, just honest, "Humans panic. Wolves panic too. This isn't a jab at you or to be an insult. It's reality."

"Okay..." Savannah let out a slow breath, "So what do you want?"

"An oath."

"An oath?" She questioned.

"Yes. Just a promise from you to me, that you speak out loud so I know you understand what you're asking for."

"This is... intense..." she repeated her sentence from earlier.

"So is shifting." I said simply.

She hesitated, just long enough for her bravado to wobble.

"Fine." she said, nodding once, sharp.

Before I spoke another word, I lifted one of my hands between us, palm open.

"Give me your hand," I said.

"What?"

"Interlace your fingers with mine," I clarified, not taking my eyes off hers. "If you're going to swear it, I want you grounded."

For a moment, she looked like she might argue. Then she exhaled, placing her hand in mine.

Warm. Smaller. Slightly trembling.

I threaded my fingers through hers and closed my grip, firm but not tight enough to hurt. The contact steadied Nero in my chest as I felt him settle low with a watchful hum.

"Repeat after me."

Savannah's throat bobbed, before mischief flashed behind her eyes.

"Repeat after me."

I felt Nero surge at her bratty comment. I exhaled, speaking slowly, each word deliberately chosen for weight.

"I, Savannah..."

Her eyes stayed on mine. "I, Savannah..."

"Swear," I continued, "by ash and memory..."

A flicker crossed her face, confusion, then curiosity, then she echoed, "Swear... by ash and memory..."

"By the dead who are honored," I said, "and the living who still breathe..."

"By the dead who are honored..." Her voice was quieter now. "and the living who still breathe..."

"That if I witness a wolf shift." I continued. "I will not run."

"That if I witness a wolf shift... I will not run."

"I will not scream."

"I will not scream."

"I will not strike."

Her breath hitched before she repeated.

"I will not strike."

"I will keep my eyes and keep my head."

"I will keep my eyes and keep my head."

"I will listen and will obey the word stop."

Savannah swallowed hard.

"I will listen and will obey the word stop."

I watched her closely as she said it, watching for hesitation, for fear masquerading as bravado.

Fear was present. But so was her resolve.

I nodded once, satisfied.

"One final line, little one." I said, smiling lightly as her cheeks flushed, "Ashes to ashes. My word is my bond."

She paused, then scrunched her face like the poetry of it offended her.

She lifted her chin. Bravery making the cold air in the room warm and spoke it clearly.

"Ashes to ashes. My word is my bond." 

I watched her for another second. Measuring what I could: the tightness at the corners of her mouth, the way her fingers curled, then relaxed, the steady way she held my gaze even though fear still lived behind it.

Nero gave a low, satisfied rumbled under my ribs. It wasn't the hungry kind. It was the possessive kind. 

"Good. Ours."

I let out a slow breath and tilted my head, my voice dropping into something quieter, something that carried both a warning and a promise.

"Be careful what you wish for, baby girl. Sometimes nightmares are real..." 

My words came out low, meant only for her, but they carried deep inside me. I felt Nero stir again, not with playful heat this time, but with something sharper. Alert. Listening. The kind of readiness that made my blood run hot.

Because this wasn't just about proving someting to a human that acted brave.

A shift wasn't a trick.

It was exposure. Trust. A surrender of control in front of someone who could still scream and run, not matter what she had sworn.

And beyond the armory walls, somewhere out there in the forest, Grim had smelt death. Decay.

If it was an actual vampire, this was some story I would tell to scare the pups. No. It was a hunter on my land. Close enough to test my borders. Close enough to be watching, waiting, stalking Savannah. 

MY Savannah.

I held her gaze and let the silence sharpen until it felt like a blade between us. 

I knew without the shadow of a doubt, that whatever came next wouldn't be just a lesson.

It would be a line crossed.

END OF CHAPTER 9.