CHAPTER 4

ISMAY BELLWEATHER’S POV

Ismay was furious.

Her wolf stirred restlessly beneath her skin, reacting to the scent of damp moss and pine drifting through Ravenridge City. She watched Tobin Calder approach the clearing, her dark eyes blazing with anger. Dressed in a pale tunic, her long dark hair whipping in the mountain wind, she looked ready to tear apart the man who had dared to keep her waiting.

But Tobin wasn’t just any wolf. She needed his help. Otherwise, she never would have arranged this secret meeting near the border, especially after spending an entire week imagining all the ways she could make him regret defying her.

Tobin stepped onto the damp stone ledge and rolled his shoulders.

“You’re late,” Ismay growled, her voice low and dangerous.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Tobin replied, a cocky smile playing on his lips. “My performance ran late, and getting here from the Silverpaw Café took longer than expected with the border patrols out.”

Ismay bared her teeth. “First, you demand an outrageous twenty thousand silver marks. Now you can’t even show up on time. You’re testing my patience, Tobin.”

“If my price is so outrageous, why are you still here?” he asked, leaning against an ancient oak tree.

The clearing overlooked Ravenridge City, with its sprawling streets, territorial borders, and vast stretches of dark forest. Nearby, two young wolves lay in the tall grass, completely unaware of the tension between Ismay and Tobin.

“Because none of the other performers I hired could get the job done,” Ismay snapped.

Tobin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had a whole week. How many men did you try?”

“Three,” she replied irritably. “I paid each of them a hundred silver marks to flirt with Prudence Harrowby and leave their scent around the pack house. None of them could get her to take the bait.”

Tobin’s golden eyes gleamed with amusement.

“And you think I’ll have better luck?”

“You’d better, considering how much you’re charging me.”

Ismay pulled a thick leather document case from her cloak and thrust it against his chest.

“Once you sign this contract and swear a blood oath, I’ll explain how we’re going to catch Prudence plotting against my father, Alpha Edmund Bellweather.”

Tobin gave a low, rough laugh.

“A blood oath? You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”

“I don’t take chances when someone is trying to steal my family’s power,” Ismay replied coldly. “Half your payment is in that pouch. The moment you seal the contract with your blood, the money is yours.”

Tobin extended his hand and drew a claw across his thumb. He pressed the bleeding thumb against the parchment, leaving his mark beside hers.

Ismay handed him a heavy pouch containing ten thousand silver marks.

He tucked the coins into the hidden pockets of his leather vest and boots.

“Paranoid, aren’t you?” Ismay muttered as she watched him secure the money.

“A man who wants to survive learns to be careful,” Tobin replied, stepping closer. “Besides, you’re forgetting one important part of the deal.”

Ismay stiffened as she remembered the clause she had agreed to include in the contract.

The kiss.

“Fine,” she said, lifting her chin even as her pulse quickened. “Take your kiss.”

Tobin closed the distance between them until he stood close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body through her cloak. His scent—pine, rain, and something unmistakably his—made her wolf stir with a restless intensity she refused to acknowledge.

He lifted a calloused hand and brushed his knuckles along her jaw.

Ismay held her breath, her gaze locked on his. Her heart beat faster, and she hated that he might notice.

Tobin lowered his head until his lips were barely an inch from hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, and despite herself, she leaned toward him.

But he didn't kiss her.

Instead, he turned his head and lightly brushed his lips against her ear.

“Not yet, Ismay,” he whispered, his warm breath sending an unwelcome shiver down her neck. “I’ll take that kiss when you’re the one begging me for it.”

Her eyes flew open. She shoved him hard against the oak tree.

“That will never happen,” she snapped, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Tobin only grinned, settling comfortably against the trunk.

“We’ll see about that. And when I finally kiss you, I doubt your wolf will forget it anytime soon.”

Before Ismay could fire back another insult, a sharp metallic chime sounded from the pouch at Tobin’s hip.

He pulled out a small stone that glowed with a blood-red light—the unmistakable signal of an emergency within his pack.

His smile disappeared.

He stared at the stone, his jaw tightening as he read the message.