LOGINKalen
"Let's get you something to eat. You need your strength. I don’t have a kitchen, but this stockpot is pretty multi-purpose." I flash a smile as I lead her back to the hearth, and she rewards me with her own smile.
Even if she’s just humoring me.I show her how to cook the venison stew I've been preparing. She watches me closely, her eyes following my every move, and a warmth spreads through my chest at her attention.We work together, chopping vegetables and adding spices to the pot, and I can't help but steal glances at her. Her skin is flushed from the heat of the fire, her hair falling in loose waves around her face, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. We're so close, our bodies just inches apart, and I can feel the heat radiating off her skin. What would it be like to kiss her? To hold her close? She’s a Blackwood. She can’t be my mate. So no harm would come from copulating with her.WouldLYLAI smooth the cloth over a shallow gash on his palm, watching his skin twitch under the touch. “Liar. You came back because you wanted someone to pull you out of it.”He stiffens but doesn’t push me away. “I’m not sure I deserve it.”“That’s not your decision.” I toss the rag aside, grab another. “You didn’t choose the curse. You didn’t choose any of this.”He’s silent, but I feel him watching now, the weight of his gaze circling my face like a tether.I set the cloth down and take his chin in my hand. He’s never been more beautiful to me than he is now, ugly and broken and mine.“You’re not your father,” I say, making each word a punch. “And you’re not going to lose yourself. Not while I&r
LYLA“Then we break it together,” I say, low and certain, my mouth right above the wound. “That’s the only way forward. Cassie told me about the ritual.”His eyes snap up, confusion written in the cramped lines at their corners. “What are you talking about?” he says. The words are sharp but the voice behind them is desperate. Maybe he thinks I’m delirious, or that I’m yanking at fantasy the way a dog yanks at a leash, but I don’t care.“The Blood Moon Binding,” I whisper, holding his gaze, daring him to deny me.He turns away, losing interest. “That’s nothing but a fairy tale.”“It’s real. It could break the curse, Kalen. Make it…legal. Or at least survivable for us.”He gives a brittle laugh, the k
LYLAI look at her, searching for any sign that this is a trick, that she’s leading me into a different kind of trap. Cassie only meets my gaze with the same calm resolve she showed when she set out her knives and herbs, when she told me to sit and drink and wait for the ache to subside. Maybe that’s the only thing she can offer me now: the chance to choose our own ending, even if it’s likely to be tragic.It’s the closest thing to hope I’ve been offered since exile.I try to keep my voice steady. “And if we fail?”Cassie gives a wry half-smile. “Then I get to test out every anti-crazy wolf sedative I have, and we all go down in history as idiots who dared the moon and lost.”I almost laugh. Instead, I lean in. “Would you help us? If it came to it?”“I’d do more than help,” Cassie says. Her hand covers mine, warm and small, anchoring me. “I’d officiate. I’m the only one left in the territory with the words.”For a second, I let the contact settle the electricity in my body. Then I pul
LYLAI scan the spidery ink, reading fragments out loud. “‘May only be enacted beneath the full Blood Moon. Requires a binding of the fated, witnessed by Luna, and a mixing of spirits and flesh…’” My voice shakes a little, but I force it to steady. Every word makes the room shrink around me. “That’s why the council buried it. Because it’s a suicide pact for anyone dumb enough to try.”Cassie reaches for the book with measured care, turning the pages as if they might combust. “No one ever said the old ways were kind, Lyla. Just that they worked.” She taps a passage written in a different hand—sharper, almost angry. “‘Should the fated succeed, they shall be as one. Should they fail, they are doomed to roam as beasts, unclaimed by moon or pack for all time.’”The words crawl up my spine, cold and
LYLACassie’s cabin isn’t built for guests, let alone enemies, but Cassie makes it feel less like a prison and more like a halfway house for the emotionally maimed. It smells like her in here—clove and something honey-sweet, warm bread from the loaf she pulled out of the oven minutes after we stepped foot in here. Cassie’s fingers move with methodical grace as she sweeps aside the crumbs, her other hand steady on the ceramic mug she slides across the scarred tabletop toward me.“You look like you want to chew through the floorboards,” she says. Her voice is featherlight, but it lands with the weight of a challenge. “Maybe eat a couple nails while you’re at it.”“I’m fine,” I lie. The tea she’s brewed is dark enough to pass for swamp water and tastes about as lively, but I drink it anyway. My own cabin—my own pack—never gave me this much comfort, or this much patience.Cassie has the kind of face that should belong to a librarian, but there’s steel underneath every soft feature. She si
ETHANAna steps into the clearing, her expression confused as she takes in the scene before her—me, standing tensely by a bundle on the offering stone. Her light hair is pulled back in a simple braid, her clothing practical for a night run. She must have been patrolling near the border, though this area isn't on the regular route."Alpha?" she calls softly, her brow furrowed. "What are you doing out here so late?"Panic floods through me. She can't be here. Not now. Not when the Slavers are due to arrive any minute. If they find her witnessing the handoff, they'll kill her without hesitation. Or worse—take her too."Ana," I say, fighting to keep my voice calm while every instinct screams at me to grab her and run. "You need to leave. Now."But it's too late. Her enhanced hearing has already picked up the soft sounds coming fr







