C3

Jessa Moore POV

"Now you finally see it, Brooke! Grant's true mate bond has always been locked onto my boy Mars, not that fake snake Brooke Caldwell!"

Brooke stands there completely speechless, his massive jaw tightening as he crosses his thick, tattooed arms over his bare chest, just watching me blast him with the truth. When I finally run out of breath, he shifts his weight on the wooden floor and mutters, "Are you still trying to get that moonshine, or are you just here to howl?"

"I am absolutely getting it!"

I have a knack for being completely direct. When my wolf is pissed off, I snap, and when I am thrilled, I let everyone know it.

Brooke is still recovering from the border skirmish, his stance slightly uneven on his right leg, so I am the one who has to handle the steering handles of the heavy pack transport wagon outside.

I am not used to handling these massive iron wagons, especially not one carved out of black steel from the Alpha's personal stables. It takes me a good ten minutes to figure out the rune controls before the engine roars and we are finally flying down the dirt path toward the local trading outpost.

Once we hit the market stalls, I grab a heavy wicker basket and begin loading it with a dozen clay jugs of fermented fire-mead. I have no idea which batch has the strongest kick, so my plan is to drink every single one until the room spins.

Brooke watches me hoard the liquor, his eyes narrowing as he points a clawed finger at the overflowing basket. "You won't be able to lift your head out of the furs tomorrow morning if you down all of that."

"I do not care, because I do not have to stress over Mars anymore. Grant has his wolf completely protected now." I pick up a dark clay jar with a red pack rune stamped on the side, turning it over and over without recognizing the northern dialect. "Hey, are you drinking with me or what?"

A sharp twitch pulls at the corner of Brooke's mouth.

"My body is still healing from silver poisoning, remember?" He looks at me like I am completely crazy. Does this omega care about any other wolf's survival besides Mars?

I freeze, then let out a rough, awkward laugh. "Right, right, my bad! It totally slipped my mind that you took a hit to the ribs. But honestly, I figured an alpha warrior wouldn't even feel the burn, considering you got that wound protecting your precious little territory, right? Shouldn't you just grin and take it like a man?"

"Can we drop that topic immediately? I am completely done talking about it."

I shrug, reaching up to slap his broad shoulder in a mock gesture of comfort. "I am just looking out for you, sweet boy. Reminding you to keep your scent sharp next time. Do not go jumping to conclusions about who belongs to who until you smell the blood bond yourself."

Perfect. His own pack logic is coming right back to bite him in the ass.

Brooke just shuts his mouth, glaring at the dirt. If he cannot out-talk me, he is just going to stay out of my way.

After loading up the mead, I steer the steel wagon back to the Pacific Crest Resort. I look up at the towering stone gates, noticing the massive 'W' carved into the archway, and point at it. "That 'W' wouldn't happen to stand for 'Walker', would it?"

Brooke grabs the heavy bags of jars, tracking right behind me into the courtyard. "Don't act like you didn't know this entire mountain resort belongs to the Walker pack lines. This place is just a tiny drop in the bucket for Grant's family resources. The elders back at the Walker Ridge Estate probably don't even track the profit from this sector."

I stare up at the massive stone fortress, completely lost in my thoughts. Brooke thinks I am just awed by the size of the place, but my brain is running miles a minute. For Mars, facing down the entire Walker pack lineage without Grant's protection would be like an omega trying to rip a tooth straight out of a feral alpha's mouth.

It would be completely impossible.

They are rooted so deep into this territory. Without Grant's alpha aura shielding him, Mars could be wiped off the face of the earth before he ever gets his justice against Tyler Walker.

Mars Reed POV

I have never felt my body so thoroughly wrecked in my entire life.

I actually thought the alpha would show some restraint because of the deep claw gashes on his chest, but...

I could not have been more wrong.

His raw hunger and his dominant whims were even more exhausting than when he was at full strength.

Completely spent, my muscles shaking from the heat of his body, I passed out naked against his chest without even making it to the wash basin.

The next morning, a sharp, rhythmic knocking on the heavy wooden door jolts my eyes open.

"Who is there?" I call out, my voice rough and completely shot.

"Apologies for interrupting your rest, Mars," Dr. Quincy’s voice calls out from the stone corridor. "I am here to replace Alpha Grant's medical wraps and check the silver burns."

I scramble to roll out from under the heavy furs, but Grant's thick, calloused fingers instantly lock around my wrist, his low, gravelly voice vibration against my back. "No need to run, Mars. Move slow."

"This is completely your fault!" I snap, glaring down at his smug face before slipping out of the bed and rushing across the room to throw the shutters wide open, letting the cool mountain air clear out the heavy, musky scent of our mating slick.

Then I pull open the heavy oak door for Dr. Quincy, who stands there in her white healer robes.

Seeing me standing there with wild hair, bite marks dark against my collarbone, and looking completely drained, the female healer freezes, her eyes blinking in total shock. "What exactly... went down in this den last night?"

My face burns instantly as I mumble, "Nothing. Nothing happened."

Quincy looks past me toward the bed, a knowing chuckle breaking from her lips. "Taking care of an alpha patient during his recovery can take everything out of you, huh?"

"Yeah... everything."

Quincy looks like she understands the exact nature of my exhaustion, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Why don't you go crawl into the side den and catch some sleep? I can handle his wraps and come back later."

"No, you need to change his bandages right now—that is way more important!"

The absolute last thing I want is to be left alone in this room with Grant again.

Mainly because the skin on my back is raw from his claws and my inner thighs are aching so bad I can barely stand straight.

Quincy, completely missing the thick sexual tension vibrating through the room, steps inside with her wooden tray of salves. She stops, sniffing the air with a deep frown. "Why is it so thick in here? It smells like... like a wolf's heat..."

My scalp goes completely numb at her words. The guilt hits me hard, and I cannot even bring myself to look her in the eyes.

A sudden, terrifying thought strikes me.

Is Grant going to keep me pinned to this mattress like a wild beast for the next thirty days straight?

"How is the body feeling, Alpha Walker?" Quincy's voice echoes as she walks to the side of the bed.

Grant shifts against the pillows, his bare chest glistening. "Pretty damn good."

"Let us see the damage." Quincy leans down, carefully peeling back the linen wraps from his ribs, her brow furrowing deeply as she inspects the skin. "Did you throw yourself around in your sleep? The lower wound is oozing fresh blood!"

Grant's golden eyes instantly flicker over to me, where I am still pretending to study the view out the window. He lets out a low rumble. "Must have shifted around while I was dreaming."

"You need to keep your beast locked down. If you keep tearing these wounds open, the silver tracking is going to take months to clear out," Quincy warns, scratching notes into her leather ledger. She checks the pulse stone on the table, nodding to herself. "But your alpha regeneration is kicking in fast. You are on the mend. Stay flat on your back today, but if the scab holds, we can unhook the tracking stones tomorrow and you can start walking the courtyard."

"Understood. Thanks, Quincy."

As the healer packs up her jars to leave, Grant stops her, his voice dropping into a deep, commanding register. "Can I wash the scent off in the stream tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not. You stick to a wet cloth until the skin seals completely. Is something bothering you?" She notices his heavy scowl.

"It just feels filthy after sweating so much."

"Sweating?" Quincy looks puzzled, glancing at the open windows. "The temperature runes are set to freezing; you could just activate them!"

Grant’s gaze locks right onto my back, a dark, wicked grin spreading across his face. "Right. Got it."

Quincy exits the room, clearly sensing that both of us are acting completely unhinged today.

The second the heavy wood clicks shut, I spin around, my teeth clenched in pure frustration. "Are you trying to make sure the entire pack knows exactly how you used my body last night?"

I kept my mouth shut the whole time, yet he deliberately kept dropping hints to the pack healer.

"I only asked about a wash, Mars. I didn't say a single word about how hard you were riding me." Grant replies, the healthy color fully returned to his handsome face. In fact, he looks completely satisfied and dominant today.

"I cannot even deal with your beast right now. I am packing my furs and sleeping in Jessa’s quarters tonight."

"Fine. Go right ahead."

I blink, totally shocked that the stubborn alpha is giving in without a fight.

But just as I nod, he leans his head back against the wood, his voice dropping into a pathetic, lonely whine.

"Just leave your wounded alpha alone in the den then. I might just bleed out from the silver and die, and no one would even notice."

"This entire mountain fortress belongs to the Walker pack, Grant. You have a hundred guards and pack omegas who would sprint in here the second you growled."

Grant raises one dark eyebrow, the corners of his lips curling into a predatory smirk that completely ruins his innocent act. "But none of those omegas can handle my specific problem, Mars. Only your body can take my knot."

I clench my fists until my nails dig into my palms. "I am absolutely not letting you touch me today!"

"Just once then. From behind."

"Not even once!"

"Mars, don't forget, the healer said I can get out of this bed tomorrow morning." Grant's voice glides through the room, completely effortless, loaded with a heavy, dominant promise that makes my wolf shiver. "And once I am back on my feet, it will be up to my wolf to decide exactly how many times a day I take you."