Chapter 3

His proximity sent an unwelcome ripple of awareness through me. I was too tired for whatever this was.

"What now, Alpha?" I asked, unable to keep the weariness from my voice.

"You're not an outcast," he said quietly. "Not anymore."

"Pretty words," I replied. "But a little late, don't you think?"

Jackson cleared his throat. "He means it, Daisy. Things are different now."

I gave a hollow laugh. "Because I'm suddenly useful? Because my Moon Wolf blood might give your pack an advantage against the Graystones?"

"No," Maison said with unexpected gentleness. "Because we were wrong."

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. I searched his face for the cold dismissal I'd grown accustomed to, but found only earnest regret.

"One revelation doesn't erase years of disdain," I said, softer now. "I need time."

Maison nodded, stepping aside. "Fair enough. Just know that when you enter that training ground tomorrow, you do so not as a tolerated stray, but as an ally we're honored to stand beside."

His words followed me down the corridor, settling uncomfortably in my chest alongside my pendant and my mother's vial.

Uncle Mateo caught up with me before I reached my room. "You should have told me you were still practising," he said, no accusation in his tone, just concern.

"Would you have let me continue if you'd known?"

He sighed. "Probably not. Too risky."

"Exactly." I paused at my door. "I needed to be ready. I always knew this day would come."

"Your father would be proud," he said softly. "And terrified for you."

I managed a small smile. "Then it's good you're here to be terrified on his behalf."

I sank onto the bed inside my room, my body aching from the full shift after so long. Star prowled restlessly in my mind.

-We should have shown them everything,- she growled. -Let them see what we can really do.-

"Not yet," I whispered aloud. "We need some advantages they don't know about."

-The Steel Alpha's son watches you differently now,- Star observed. -Both fear and desire.-

I pushed away the thought of Maison's intense gaze. "He's just reassessing a potential asset."

Star's disbelieving rumble was the last thing I heard before exhaustion claimed me.

Dawn came too quickly. I woke to find training clothes laid out—high-performance leggings, a moisture-wicking top, and sturdy boots. I kept my pendant and my mother's vial against my skin, beneath the clothes.

The clearing behind the training grounds was empty when I arrived, mist still clinging to the ground much as it always did when I sneaked out there to train, but always made sure I left at least two hours before anyone else arrived and wore a mask.

Neither Jackson nor Maison was here. I shook my head at the random thought that they really wanted to help me. I should have known better. I began my normal route, but what I didn’t notice at first was that after about 20 minutes, I wasn’t alone; both Maison and Jackson were watching me.

*Are we ever going to tell Daisy the truth, that we’re her mates? * Jackson asked.

*Not until after the challenge. She's got enough on her mind,* Maison replied through their twin bond. *Besides, she already thinks we've been lying to her all these years.*

*We have been,* Jackson pointed out, watching as Daisy flowed through a complex series of combat forms that neither recognized—clearly not standard werewolf training.

*To protect her.*

*And ourselves,* Jackson added. *Father's orders were clear—keep our distance until she was ready.*

Maison's jaw tightened. *I'm not sure I can keep pretending anymore. Not after seeing Star.*

The twins fell silent as Daisy executed a flawless aerial kick that would have taken down an opponent twice her size. Her movements blended werewolf strength with something else—something more fluid and unpredictable that spoke to her Moon Wolf heritage.

I sensed their presence before I turned, my enhanced hearing picking up their breathing despite their attempt at silence. I completed my form before acknowledging them.

"Enjoying the show?" I called, not bothering to hide my irritation.

Maison stepped forward from the tree line, his expression unreadable. "How long have you been training like this?"

"Since I was fourteen," I admitted, seeing no point in hiding it now. "Four times a week, before dawn."

"Here?" Jackson asked incredulously. "On pack grounds?"

I shrugged. "Where else? I needed somewhere private, with enough space to work without being seen."

"For eight years," Maison said slowly, "you've been slipping out before dawn to train... and no one noticed?"

I couldn't help the small, prideful smile that curved my lips. "Moon Wolves are good at going unnoticed when we want to be."

The brothers exchanged a look I couldn't interpret.

"Show us what else you can do," Maison said, moving into the clearing. "No holding back this time."

"Are you sure?" I asked, unable to keep the challenge from my voice. "I wouldn't want to hurt an Alpha."

Jackson's eyebrows shot up at my boldness, but Maison's mouth quirked into something almost like a smile.

"Try me," he invited, dropping into a fighting stance.

For a moment, I hesitated. Fighting an Alpha—even in training—was something I'd never dared before. But Star pushed eagerly forward, hungry for the challenge.

-Let's show him what we can do,- she urged.

I lunged forward, faster than any normal werewolf could move, aiming a strike at Maison's shoulder. He blocked it—barely—his eyes widening slightly at my speed.

"Not bad," he acknowledged, countering with a sweep of his leg that I leapt over easily.

We circled each other, exchanging experimental blows, neither of us fully committing yet. I could feel him testing me, assessing my style and strengths.

"You fight like both a wolf and something else entirely," Maison observed, blocking another of my strikes with his forearm. "The Moon Wolf techniques?"

I nodded, dancing back from his counterattack with a fluid grace that seemed to surprise him. "My mother taught me the basics before she died. I've been practising from memory and instinct ever since."

We continued our sparring match, the intensity gradually increasing as we each became more comfortable with the other's style. Jackson watched from the sidelines, his analytical gaze missing nothing.

"Your footwork is unique," he called out. "But your left side opens up when you transition between forms."

I shot him an irritated glance but adjusted my stance. He wasn't wrong.

Maison used my momentary distraction to sweep my legs from under me. I hit the ground hard but rolled immediately, springing back up and catching him with a surprise elbow to the ribs.

He grunted, genuine surprise flashing across his face. "Good recovery."

For nearly an hour, we continued, neither gaining a clear advantage. When Maison finally called a halt, we were both breathing heavily, sweat dampening our training clothes.

"You've been holding back more than I realized," he said, a new respect in his voice. "But it won't be enough against Dominick."

"I know," I admitted, accepting the water bottle Jackson tossed my way. "He fights dirty, and he knows my father's style."

"Which is why we need to teach you techniques he won't expect," Jackson said, stepping into the clearing. "My turn."

Where Maison fought with power and precision, Jackson's style was more unpredictable—feints and misdirection, sudden changes in tempo that kept me constantly off-balance. By the time we finished our session, every muscle in my body ached.

"Better," Jackson acknowledged. "But we need to work on your transitions between offence and defence. You hesitate for a fraction of a second."

"A fraction is all Dominick will need," Maison added.

I nodded, too exhausted to argue. "What's next?"

"Rest for an hour, then we work on your wolf form," Maison said. "Star needs to be as prepared as you are."

As I walked back toward the compound for a shower and food, I caught the twins exchanging another of those meaningful looks. Something was going on between them that I couldn't quite decipher.

"They're hiding something," I murmured to Uncle Mateo when I found him waiting for me with a protein shake and sandwiches.

"Everyone's hiding something, sweetheart," he replied cryptically. "Even you."

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He sighed, suddenly looking every one of his years. "Just... be open to possibilities, Daisy. Not everything is what it seems."

"Now you sound like my mother," I grumbled, taking a long protein shake drink. “Not that it matters I’ll fight my asshat Uncle and then I’ll be out of their hair for good, remember I’m meant to be going to Japan soon as a part of my Uni course to be a chef I don’t even remember what it was like to be pack anymore not that my father’s pack respected me anyway.”

Uncle Mateo's gaze sharpened. "Japan? When were you planning to tell me about this?"

I shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "It wasn't certain until recently. Six-month culinary exchange program. I was going to tell you next week."

"Running again," he said softly.

"Expanding my horizons," I corrected. "There's a difference."

"And what about your inheritance? Your father's legacy?"

I set down my sandwich, my appetite suddenly gone. "What legacy, Mateo? A pack that stood by while my parents were murdered? Territory controlled by a murderer? What exactly am I supposed to be fighting for?"

"The truth," he said simply. "Justice."

I laughed bitterly. "Those are luxuries I gave up on years ago."

The door opened, and Maison entered, his hair still damp from a shower. He stopped short when he sensed the tension in the room.

"Everything alright?" he asked, his eyes moving between us.

"Fine," I said curtly, rising to my feet. "Just discussing my future plans."

"Which are?" Maison's voice was carefully neutral, but something flickered in his eyes.

"None of your concern," I replied, gathering my empty protein shake container. "I'll meet you back at the training grounds in twenty minutes."

As I brushed past him, Maison caught my arm gently. The contact sent an unwelcome jolt of awareness through me.

"Daisy," he said, his voice lower now. "Whatever you're planning... don't make any decisions until after the challenge."

I pulled my arm free. "Why do you suddenly care what I do?"

His expression tightened. "I've always cared."

"You have a funny way of showing it," I muttered, pushing past him and out the door.

The afternoon training session was brutal. Maison and Jackson pushed me harder than I'd ever been pushed before, forcing me to shift between human and wolf forms repeatedly until the transition was seamless and instantaneous. We practised combat techniques specific to fighting larger wolves, exploiting Star's unusual agility and speed to compensate for Dominick's greater size and strength.

By sunset, I was trembling with exhaustion, my muscles screaming in protest at every movement.

"Enough," Uncle Mateo finally intervened. "She needs rest or she'll be useless tomorrow."

Maison nodded reluctantly. "First light. Same place."

I didn't even have the energy to respond, stumbling toward the compound with Uncle Mateo's steadying hand on my elbow.

"You did well today," he said as we walked. "Better than I expected."

"Not good enough," I murmured. "Dominick will still tear me apart."

"Don't be so sure," he replied. "You have advantages he doesn't know about."

I glanced sideways at him. "Like what? Not that it matters once this is over and if I come out alive I’ll be out of your packs hair just like you all wanted. Just leave me alone.”

"You don't mean that," Uncle Mateo said, his voice gentle but firm. "And you know it."

I stopped walking, fatigue making me reckless. "Don't I? Eight years, Mateo. Eight years of being the outsider, the charity case. The stray they took in as a favour to a dead Alpha."

"Is that what you think this has been?" He looked genuinely pained.

"What else would you call it?" I gestured toward the sprawling compound. "The Steel Fangs pack made it abundantly clear I wasn't one of them. Daily reminders from Dean and his cronies. The twins were treating me like I was invisible until they needed something. Even Logan keeps me at arm's length."

"To protect you," he insisted.

"So everyone keeps saying." I resumed walking, my muscles protesting each step. "But protection shouldn't feel like exile."

When we reached my room, Uncle Mateo paused at the door. "There's a bath drawn for you. Herbs for your muscles. Try to sleep."

I nodded, too exhausted to argue further. The moment the door closed behind me, I sank to the floor, letting the tears I'd been holding back all day finally fall. Star whined in my mind, offering comfort I couldn't accept.

-We are stronger than they think,- she insisted. -We will survive this.-

"Surviving isn't enough anymore," I whispered, dragging myself toward the steaming bath.

The water was infused with healing herbs, with their soothing and invigorating scent. I stripped off my training clothes and sank into the bath with a grateful sigh, feeling the tension begin to ease from my abused muscles.

A soft knock at the door startled me from my near-doze.

"Who is it?" I called, tensing.

"It's Jackson. I have something for you."

I hesitated. "I'm in the bath. Can it wait?"

"It's important," he replied. "I can leave it outside the door."

"Fine," I sighed, hearing his footsteps retreat.

Several minutes later, when I'd dried off and changed into the soft pyjamas provided, I cracked open the door. A small wooden box sat on the floor, intricately carved with a pattern I recognized immediately—the same swirling design etched into my pendant.

I brought it inside, examining it carefully before opening the lid. Inside lay a delicate silver bracelet set with moonstones and a folded note in unfamiliar handwriting.

*For when you're ready to know the whole truth. -J*

The cryptic message made me frown. I lifted the bracelet, surprised by its weight despite its delicate appearance. The moonstones seemed to glow with an inner light, responding to my touch.

"Another riddle," I muttered, but slipped it onto my wrist anyway.

The moment the bracelet closed around my skin, warmth spread up my arm, it looked pretty like it had been made for someone important, someone wasn’t me. I returned to my makeshift room, just needing to be left alone. I was tired of running, but the chef training at Uni was me trying to have a life all my own. Uncle Mateo had suffered enough, and I needed to live my life at some point, far away from this rude pack.

The second day of training dawned earlier than the first. I woke before my alarm, and my body was surprisingly less sore than expected. The moonstone bracelet glowed faintly in the pre-dawn darkness, and I wondered if it had something to do with my accelerated healing.

I dressed quickly in fresh training clothes left outside my door and made my way to the clearing. This time, both Steel brothers were already waiting, along with Uncle Mateo and, to my surprise, Alpha Logan himself.

"Good morning," Logan greeted me, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "I thought I might observe today's session."

I nodded stiffly, unsure how to respond. His presence added pressure I didn't need.

"We'll start with pack fighting techniques," Maison announced without preamble. "Dominick will expect you to fight like a lone wolf. We need to show him something different."

"Pack fighting?" I echoed. "I'm challenging him alone."

"The techniques can be adapted," Jackson explained. "It's about mindset as much as physical movement—anticipating multiple angles of attack, creating space where there seems to be none."

For the next three hours, they drilled me relentlessly. The twins moved with a synchronicity that was almost beautiful to watch, their bodies flowing around each other in perfect coordination. It taught me to think beyond my own movements and to feel the space around me as a malleable thing I could control.

By mid-morning, something clicked. I began to sense the patterns in their attacks and the rhythm of their movements before they made them. Star surged forward eagerly, her instincts merging with my conscious thought until we were moving as one being rather than wolf and human in awkward tandem.

"Better," Logan called from the sidelines. "Much better."

I spun away from Maison's attack, using his momentum to propel myself toward Jackson, who barely managed to block my counter. For the first time, I saw genuine surprise in his eyes.

"She's a quick study," he muttered to his brother when we paused for water.

"Too quick," Maison replied, his gaze assessing me with new interest. "Almost like she's done this before."

I ignored their speculation, gulping water and trying to calm my racing heart. The bracelet on my wrist pulsed warmly with each heartbeat, somehow synchronizing with the pendant at my throat.

After lunch, Uncle Mateo took over, focusing on Dominick's specific fighting style—his tendency to favour his right side, his preference for grappling over striking, his tells before a major attack.

"He'll try to use your emotions against you," Mateo warned. "He'll mention your parents, try to make you reckless with rage."

"I know," I said quietly.

"Knowing and controlling are different things," Logan interjected. "You need to be prepared for the psychological warfare as much as the physical."

By evening, I was again exhausted. I would have given just about anything to have been in one of my Uni lectures. Beta Dean, Delta Carter and Gamma Tristan come up to me ‘Great its either the who brought the stray in or now I’m worth their time neither of which I have time for right now.’

I steeled myself for whatever insults Dean was about to throw my way, but to my surprise, it was Carter who spoke first.

"That was impressive work today," he said, his usual mocking tone absent. "I've never seen anyone pick up pack fighting techniques so quickly."

I blinked, suspicion immediately flaring. "Thanks?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Tristan nudged him hard in the ribs.

"I owe you an apology," Dean finally muttered, the words clearly causing him physical pain. "For the stray comments. And... other things."

"Maison ordered you to say that," I guessed flatly.

"Actually, he didn't," Tristan replied. "But he did make us watch your training all day."

I glanced toward where the Steel twins were deep in conversation with their father, their backs to us. "Why?"

"To show us what we've been missing," Carter said simply. "What we refused to see."

Dean still looked constipated with the effort of being civil, but he managed a stiff nod. "Your wolf is... impressive."

Coming from Dean, this was practically a declaration of undying admiration. I didn't know whether to laugh or remain suspicious.

"Look, we've been assholes," Tristan admitted. "But we're also pack. And tomorrow, you're fighting for something that matters to all of us."

"I'm fighting for myself," I corrected. "Not for the Steel Fangs pack."

Carter shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you?"

Maison approached before I could ask what he meant, effectively ending the conversation. The three wolves nodded respectfully to their Alpha and retreated.

"What was that about?" I asked, watching them go.

"Perspective adjustment," Maison replied cryptically. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," I admitted. "But I'll live."

His expression softened slightly. "The moonstone bracelet should help with recovery. Jackson thought it might... resonate with your heritage."

I glanced down at the bracelet, which seemed to glow more brightly in Maison's presence. "Another Steel Fangs pack secret?"

"Something like that." He hesitated, then added, "There's something we need to discuss before tomorrow."

My stomach tightened. "What now?"

"Not here." He nodded toward the forest path. "Walk with me?"

Curiosity overrode my exhaustion. I fell into step beside him, conscious of the Alpha unit watching us leave. The forest was peaceful in the gathering twilight, the first stars appearing overhead as we followed a winding trail away from the compound.

"If you're going to tell me to forfeit, save your breath," I said, breaking the silence.

Maison's mouth quirked upward. "I wouldn't dream of it. You're too stubborn to listen anyway."

“Or is it that you overheard what I said to Uncle Mateo? If I make it out alive, I’m leaving for Japan to study abroad to become a chef as part of my Uni, coz I don’t honestly care what you people think anymore.” I stormed off.

Maison grabbed my arm, stopping me mid-stride. The contact sent an electric jolt through my system that I desperately tried to ignore.

"Japan?" His voice was low, controlled, but I could hear the tension beneath it. "You're planning to leave?"

I yanked my arm free. "Yes. Not that it's any of your business."

"It is my business," he insisted, stepping closer. In the fading light, his eyes seemed to glow. "More than you know."

"Why? Because I'm some asset now? The Moon Wolf, you suddenly decided might be useful?"

"That's not—" He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "Dammit, Daisy, would you just listen for once?"

"I've been listening for years," I shot back. "To whispers and insults and being told to know my place. I'm done listening."

The bracelet on my wrist pulsed warmly, almost in response to my anger. Maison's eyes flicked to it, then back to my face.

"The moonstone bracelet," he said more quietly. "Do you know what it is?"

"Another cryptic gift with no explanation? Seems to be a pattern around here."

"It's a mating token."

The words hung in the air between us. I stared at him, certain I'd misheard.

"A what?"

"A mating token," he repeated. "From the Steel bloodline. Given when a mate is recognized but... circumstances prevent an immediate claim."

I looked down at the bracelet, its glow seeming more insistent now. "Why would Jackson give me a mating token?"

Maison's jaw tightened. "Not just Jackson."

The implications hit me like a physical blow. I took an instinctive step backward, my back pressing against a tree trunk.

"No," I whispered. "That's impossible."

"Is it?" He moved closer, not touching me but close enough that his scent—pine and wilderness and something uniquely Maison—enveloped me. "Haven't you felt it? All these years?"

"What I felt was your contempt," I said, my voice shaking despite my efforts to control it. "Your disregard."

"What you saw was my struggle," he corrected, his voice dropping lower. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to deny a mate bond? To keep my distance when everything in me demanded I claim you?"

"Stop it." I pressed my hands against his chest, meaning to push him away, but the contact only intensified the warmth spreading from the bracelet up my arm. "This is just another manipulation."

"It's the truth." His hand covered mine where it rested against his chest. I could feel his heart racing beneath my palm. "Logan ordered us to wait. Until you were ready. Until the threat from the Graystone’s was resolved."

"Both of you?" I managed, “Right, sure, Maison, whatever, why should I believe you?”

"Yes," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "Both Jackson and I, twin Alphas, one mate."

I jerked my hand away as if burned. "That's—that's not how it works."

"For Moon Wolves, it can be," Maison said, his eyes never leaving mine. "Your mother's bloodline makes you unique. The old laws speak of Moon Wolves sometimes having multiple mates, especially with twin Alphas."

"This is insane," I whispered, my mind reeling. "You've spent years treating me like I was nothing—"

"Because the alternative was worse," he interrupted, a flash of anguish crossing his face. "If Dominick had any inkling of what you truly meant to us, he would have used it against all of us. The only way to keep you safe was to maintain distance."

The pendant at my throat seemed to grow warmer, as if responding to his words. Star stirred restlessly in my mind, neither confirming nor denying his claims.

"Even if I believed you," I said carefully, "which I don't, it changes nothing. After tomorrow, I'm leaving. This isn't my home. It never was."

Pain flashed across Maison's face, so raw and genuine it took me aback. "You don't mean that."

"I do," I insisted, though something in me wavered. "I'm not part of this pack. I'm not part of any pack anymore."

"You could be," he said softly. "If you wanted."

I laughed bitterly. "Right. After years of being the outsider, suddenly I'm welcome with open arms? Because of what? My bloodline? My fighting skills? Or this convenient mate bond you've just now decided to mention?"

Maison's eyes flashed with frustration. "We were trying to protect you."

"By lying to me? By letting your pack treat me like dirt?" I pushed past him, needing space to think. "Some protection."

"Daisy, wait—"

"No," I cut him off. "I fight tomorrow. Against an Alpha who wants me dead. I don't have time for this... whatever this is."

I turned and walked away, half-expecting him to follow, but he remained rooted in place. Only when I reached the edge of the trees did I hear his voice, so quiet I almost missed it.

"Be safe tomorrow," he said. "Please."

The raw emotion in those four words followed me all the way back to my room, where I found Jackson waiting outside my door.

"Let me guess," I said tiredly. "You're here to spin the same fairy tale your brother just tried?"

Jackson's eyes narrowed slightly. "He told you."

"That you both suddenly decided I'm your destined mate? Yeah, he mentioned it." I moved to push past him to my door.

Jackson didn't try to stop me, but his voice did. "It wasn't sudden, we’ve known for a while.”

“No, Jackson, if what you're saying is true, neither of you wanted me till you knew I was worth your time. My own pack disowned me from birth, and your pack treats me like I’m and omega at best or a rogue at worst they only want to get to know me because that know I’m the daughter of a late Alpha so fucking what. As I told your brother, if I make it out of this alive, I’m going to Japan to complete my chef training and live my own life. Just leave.” I said just wanting to be left alone.

Jackson didn't move from the doorway, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Daisy, please. Just hear me out."

"I've done enough hearing for one day," I snapped, my fatigue making my words sharper than intended. "Tomorrow I fight for my life. Whatever game you and your brother are playing—it can wait."

"It's not a game," Jackson said quietly. "And that's exactly why it can't wait. If something happens tomorrow..."

The unspoken possibility hung between us. I swallowed hard, refusing to acknowledge the fear that had been my constant companion since challenging Dominick.

"Fine. Five minutes." I pushed open my door, reluctantly allowing him to follow me inside.

Jackson remained standing while I sank onto the edge of the bed, too exhausted to maintain the pretence of strength.

"We recognized you as our mate the day you arrived," he began without preamble. "You were sixteen. Traumatized. Vulnerable."

"How convenient for you," I muttered.

He ignored my sarcasm. "Father made us swear to keep our distance until you were of age. Then, when you turned eighteen, the reports came in that Dominick had intensified his search for you."

"So you continued to ignore me for my own good?" I couldn't keep the bitterness from my voice. "How noble."

Jackson's eyes flashed with frustration. "You think it was easy? Watching Dean and the others treat you like an outsider? Knowing what you truly were to us?"

"What I truly was," I repeated. "A secret to be kept. A burden to be endured."

"Our mate," he corrected firmly. "Our equal. The future we weren't allowed to claim yet."

I laughed, the sound hollow even to my own ears. "Right. Because the universe would definitely pair me with twin Alphas who couldn't even be bothered to defend me against their own pack's cruelty."

Pain flickered across Jackson's face. "We intervened more than you know. Why do you think Dean still has all his limbs?"

That startled a genuine laugh out of me. "You expect me to believe you were secretly defending my honour behind the scenes? While publicly treating me like I didn't exist?"

"Yes." His gaze was unwavering. "Because that's exactly what happened."

The certainty in his voice made me falter. I looked down at the moonstone bracelet, which pulsed with gentle warmth against my skin.

"Even if I believed you," I said finally, "it doesn't change anything. After tomorrow—"

"After tomorrow, you'll have choices," Jackson interrupted. "Real ones, not just running away because you think you don't belong anywhere."

I glared at him. "Japan isn't running away. It's building a life that's actually mine."

"Is it?" He moved closer, crouching down to my eye level. "Or is it just another form of hiding?”

“Ok, if you think I’m hiding who came up with all the burgers on the menu and the sauces?” I challenged.

Jackson's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "You designed the menu?"

"Every item," I confirmed. "The Volcanic Sauce was my creation too—a modified version of an ancient Moon Wolf recipe my mother taught me. Uncle Mateo let me experiment in the kitchen after hours."

Jackson was silent for a moment, processing this revelation. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. You were too busy pretending I didn't exist." I stood up, needing to move, to put space between us. "Cooking is the one thing that's truly mine. Not connected to pack politics or supernatural drama. Just... mine."

"And in Japan?" he asked quietly.

"I'd study with master chefs. Learn techniques that have been passed down for generations." Despite my exhaustion, I couldn't keep the passion from my voice. "Maybe even open my own restaurant someday. Somewhere far from pack territories and mate bonds and people who only value me when I'm useful."

Jackson winced at that last part. "We always valued you, Daisy. Even when we couldn't show it."

"Words," I said dismissively. "Just words."

He rose to his feet, his expression suddenly determined. "Then let me show you instead."

Before I could react, he closed the distance between us, his hands gently framing my face. The touch sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with fatigue and everything to do with the bracelet that now pulsed in time with my racing heart.

"Jackson—" I began, a warning in my voice.

"Just feel," he whispered. "For once, stop fighting and just feel."

His forehead pressed against mine, and something... opened. There's no other way to describe it. Like a door I hadn't known existed suddenly swinging wide, revealing emotions that weren't mine—concern, frustration, admiration, desire, and beneath it all, a bone-deep certainty that took my breath away.

I jerked back, breaking the connection. "What was that?"

"The beginning of a mate bond," he said simply. "What we've been suppressing for years."

My legs felt suddenly unsteady. I sank back onto the bed, my mind reeling. Star pushed forward in my consciousness, her presence stronger than usual.

-He speaks truth,- she growled approvingly. -They are ours.-

"No," I whispered, unsure if I was answering Star or Jackson.

Jackson didn't move closer again, respecting my need for space. "Think about it, Daisy. Why would we lie about this? What would we gain?"

"Control," I suggested, though the word sounded hollow even to my own ears. "Power over the last Graystone heir."

He shook his head. "If that were our goal, we could have claimed you years ago. Used the mate bond to keep you tethered to us, to the pack. Instead, we waited. We gave you space, a chance to heal, but not realizing that by doing what we were doing, we had the slightest chance that it could mean that we’d lose you, lose something and someone so important.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice made my chest tighten. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine the possibility—that the twins had truly recognized me as their mate years ago, that their distance had been protection rather than rejection.

"If what you're saying is true," I said carefully, "why tell me now? Why not wait until after the challenge?"

"Because tomorrow isn't guaranteed," Jackson answered, his voice low. "If something happens—"

"You mean if I die," I translated bluntly.

He flinched. "We couldn't let you face that without knowing the truth."

I studied his face, searching for deception but finding only earnest concern. The bracelet on my wrist pulsed warmly, almost like a heartbeat syncing with my own.

"I need to sleep," I said finally. "Tomorrow—"

"Tomorrow you fight," he finished. "And we'll be there, whether you want us or not."

After Jackson left, I lay awake for hours, my mind racing despite my exhaustion. Star paced restlessly in my consciousness, her presence stronger than it had been in years.

-They are ours,- she insisted again. -You feel it too.-

"It doesn't matter what I feel," I whispered into the darkness. "Nothing's changed."

But as sleep finally claimed me, I couldn't ignore the warmth of the bracelet against my skin, or the way my pendant seemed to pulse in harmony with it.

The morning of the challenge dawned clear and cold. I woke before sunrise, my body tense with anticipation. A simple black fighting outfit had been laid out—reinforced leggings and a close-fitting top that would allow for quick transformation. I dressed mechanically, securing my pendant around my neck and ensuring my mother's vial lay against my heart.

Uncle Mateo was waiting outside my door, his face grave.

"Ready?" he asked simply.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

The journey to Crescent Valley was made in tense silence. I rode with Uncle Mateo, while the Steel twins followed in another vehicle with their father and the Alpha unit. Other pack members would already be at the clearing, maintaining the perimeter and ensuring the challenge grounds remained neutral.

As we approached, I could feel the energy in the air—electric, expectant. Wolves from multiple packs had gathered to witness the challenge, forming a loose circle around the clearing. The Graystone pack stood to one side, their posture aggressive despite the neutral territory. The Steel pack formed a counterbalance on the opposite side.

And in the centre of it all stood Dominick, looking exactly as I remembered—coldly handsome, with the same dark hair and sharp features that had once belonged to my father, twisted into something cruel.

"Ah, my dear niece," he called as I stepped into the clearing. "I was beginning to think you might not show."