C8

"I know that. But not now. Not today. It’s the Solstice," Genesis said, a sharp spike of guilt hitting her chest. "I know how long you’ve looked forward to the pack gathering. I hate dragging you into my mess."

"I am glad you told me, Genesis," Bryony replied, her small hand reaching out to squeeze Genesis's tight, claw-curled fist. "You do not have to force another word if it makes your skin crawl, and I swear on my mark I will not whisper a breath of this to another soul."

"I just do not want to put you in a dangerous position with Ronan," Genesis muttered, watching the heavy guilt gnaw at her stomach. Her brother Ronan was ruthlessly suspicious of everyone outside their bloodline, and if he caught Bryony keeping secrets, it would tear their fragile mating apart.

"You do not need to worry about my mate," Bryony said softly, her pale eyes tracking across the stone courtyard to where Ronan stood beside their father. Ronan seemed to feel her gaze through the bond, turning his head instantly. His sharp, lethal Alpha expression melted, a low rumble of possessive warmth radiating across the open air between them, and Bryony flushed a deep rose as her chest heaved with a sudden, heavy breath.

"Uh... Ronan and I are in a good place right now," Bryony murmured, tearing her gaze away from her mate to meet Genesis's staring eyes. "I take each day as it comes, but my core settles when he is near."

"I am glad," Genesis said flatly, though her own heart throbbed with a bitter, hollow ache. "You both deserve a strong pack lineage, especially with the pup growing inside you."

Before Bryony could answer, Thayer stepped into the doorway of the great hall, his wide shoulders blocking the torchlight behind him.

"Alright, the feast is served! Grab your trenchers in the main kitchen and pile the roast high. We have half a stag on the spit, so do not hold back. Meat at the terrace table in ten minutes, before Father tries to say a prayer to the Moon Mother."

Aldren let out a harsh, grunting growl from the table, his scarred face twisted in disgust. Genesis couldn't help the dry, bitter laugh that escaped her throat at her father's expression, while Ronan and Thayer let out deep, rumbling howls of amusement.

"Do not strain your soul, Father," Thayer called back over his massive shoulder. "We all know the Goddess turned her back on your blood-soaked hands years ago. I will speak the ritual words myself."

"Barely, Thayer," one of the younger Ashvale pack warriors barked from the bench. "We all saw the heat-marks you carved into the bedposts in Elka's quarters."

The courtyard erupted into coarse, low laughter as the wolves pushed up from their seats and shoved through the hall doors toward the food.

Aldren marched inside after the young males, leaving Ronan to stride directly across the flagstones toward Genesis and Bryony.

Bryony suddenly gasped, her fingers clutching Genesis's forearm with a sudden, tight grip. Genesis turned instantly, her wolf surging forward in alarm. "Are you in pain?"

"Genesis, if you ever need shelter or an ally, send your wolf to me," Bryony urged, her silver eyes fierce and direct. "I might not have a army to give you, but I will guard your back."

"Thank you, I—"

"Is something wrong with my mate?" Ronan demanded, settling his heavy, scent-heavy body right beside Bryony, his dark eyes instantly locking onto her pale face. "You look drained, Bryony."

"I am fine, Ronan," Bryony said, softening under his possessive shadow. "The pup is just heavy today."

Ronan held her gaze for a long, quiet second, searching her face for any trace of a lie before he extended his thick, scarred hand. He pulled Bryony flush against his hip, his arm wrapping around her waist like an iron band before he turned his cold, predatory eyes onto Genesis.

"You have been ignoring my mind-links," Ronan growled low in his throat.

"I have been busy managing the healing dens," Genesis lied, keeping her shoulders back.

He grunted, utterly unimpressed. As Vice-Alpha of the Wrenmoor territory, Ronan did not need words to break a wolf; his pure dominant aura was enough to make lower ranks drop to their knees. Genesis held her ground, but her pulse hammered against her ribs.

Bryony let out a soft, breathless whimpering noise, catching Ronan's full focus instantly.

"Where does it hurt?" Ronan asked, his harsh voice dropping an octave as his thumb began rubbing heavy, firm circles into the small of Bryony's spine.

"My back aches," Bryony said, flashing a quick, secretive glance at Genesis. "Get me a plate, Ronan. I need raw meat and spiced wine."

Ronan growled approvingly at her appetite, his large hand giving her hip an intimate squeeze before he turned back toward the hall. "Stay put. I will bring enough to feed us both."

"Thank you," Genesis breathed as soon as her brother was out of earshot.

"He gets overbearing when he smells my heat changing," Bryony murmured, a fond smile touching her lips before fading into something deeper. "Though I am still learning how to handle an Alpha who wants to mark everything I touch."

"He cares for you," Genesis said quietly. "You brought him back to the pack, Bryony. Before you, Ronan was just a wall of teeth and dark blood."

Genesis forced herself to stand up, her knees trembling slightly as she looked down at the courtyard stones. She could not stop thinking about Draven. Was he sitting at the Hollowmere table right now, letting Mirelle fill his cup while he laughed about finally shedding his cold, barren mate? Was he already picking out a new, submission-ready female to knot in their ancestral bed?

The thought hit her wet core like a brand of pure fire and toxic hatred. Her claws pricked the palms of her hands.

"Genesis?" Bryony asked softly.

"I am fine," Genesis whispered, forcing her chin up, her gaze flashing with dangerous, glowing wolf-fire. "I am going to get my food before the pack tears it apart."