The Alpha's Offer

Clara felt like the cabin had gotten too small to hold all the air. Ronan stood on the porch like a mountain in a coat. The men behind him were quiet as stone. Ash pressed himself against the doorway as if his body could close the gap. Clara’s heart made a new rhythm fast, sharp, like someone running to catch a train.

Ronan looked at her like he was reading a map he had every right to. You are not a stranger to this world, Clara, he said. His voice was calm. It had a small edge that cut. You were born into it.

I wasn’t born into anything Clara said. Her voice sounded thin to her. It came out like a child saying no to a storm.

You ran, Ronan said. He smiled without warmth. But blood remembers. Ash, you left her. You left the wrong thing.

Ash tightened his jaw. Clara watched him breathe. He was brave in small violent ways like a person who walked into pain for someone else. I left because I thought it was safer, he said. I thought taking her away would keep her from blood and law.

A coward’s boast, Ronan said. He stepped forward. The porch boards creaked. You hurt the pack by running.

You hurt her worse, Clara said before she could stop herself. Her words surprised her with how honest they were. You left me to figure my life out alone. You don’t get to stand there and call someone else coward.

Ronan turned his head and his eyes found hers in a way that made the small hairs on her arm lift. You are angry, he said. You should be. The truth is worse than anger.

What truth? she asked.

Ronan smiled like he knew something private. Your blood is old. Your line is part of the pack’s throat. You were marked before you were named. Ash tried to save you from duty. He failed. He reached out, not touching, just showing the space between them. Now you are here. The law says claim. The law says mate. The law says binding.

Clara felt the room tilt like a ship. Bind me? The word sounded like a trap.

Yes, Ronan said. You belong to the pack. It is not optional.

Ash’s hand closed on the sleeve of his jacket so hard the fabric wrinkled. You can’t do that, he said. She is a person. She has a life. You won’t take that.

Ronan’s jaw tightened. And you would deny the pack what is owed because your guilt says so? You would sacrifice order for your pain? His voice went cold as a well. You do not understand what happens when bonds are broken. The wolf fractures. The line weakens. Hunters smell that weakness and come.”

Clara understood those words in a way that frightened her. Hunters. Weakness. She could feel it like a bruise under her ribs. She had been a nurse long enough to know how infections started small and ate the thing that tried to hold them in. You think I want this? she said. I didn’t know anything until yesterday. You can’t hand someone else my life.

We can, Ronan said. And we will. For the good of the pack.

Ash stepped forward like he thought the space would hold him. No, he said, small and fierce. You will not touch her. You will not claim her like an animal.

Ronan spread his hands as if the world itself could be kept neat. We are animals, Ash. We are wolves. We hold laws older than your regrets. You left. The law must be satisfied.

Clara felt panic climb in her throat like a hot stone. She tasted copper. I will not be taken, she said. If you think you can force me you are wrong. I am not a prize. I am a person.

Ronan’s face hardened. We will not force. We will ask. We will offer.

Offer? Clara echoed.

Yes. Ronan’s voice softened a fraction. We know the town is turning. The hunters will not stop. They will come again. I can protect you. I can make the hunters fall back. But protection has a cost.

Ash’s mouth opened. He looked like a man who had been hit. You can’t bargain with her, he said. You don’t get to trade a life.

Ronan ignored him. You can stay in the pack. Live within the bounds. Learn. Take your place. Or you can leave and we will mark you as exiled. Exile is a sentence. Hunters will not be forced by law to leave you alone.”

Clara felt the floor tilt under her feet. Two doors. One unknown, one a hunger. Her hands shook so badly she had to grip the edge of a chair. You expect me to choose right now? she said.

Yes, Ronan said simply. Tonight. Before the moon rises.

Clara thought of the hospital, of stitches, of steady coffee and long shifts. She thought of her cabin, the stove, the small peace she had tried to build. Ash’s hand found hers. We’ll decide together, he said. I will not let them take you.

You will not decide for me, Clara said. She did not want to be the center of a law she had not chosen. She did not want to be the thing that made a pack bigger or a son of wolves weaker. But she could feel the hunters like a net beyond the trees. She could feel Ronan’s eyes. They weighed her like an old coin.

Ronan walked to the edge of the porch and looked into the dark. You have until the moon rises to decide, he said. If you stay, you learn and you bind. If you leave, the pack will let the hunters have free reign. We will not protect what you refuse.

Clara heard the words like a final. The men behind Ronan shifted. The forest seemed to lean in. She swallowed and the room tasted like thunder.

How can I trust anything you say? she asked. You broke my life when Ash left. Why would I believe you now?

Ronan’s smile was small and thin. Because Ash is here. He can fight. He can stand. If you bind, you gain protection and blood. If you leave you gain nothing but silence and fear. That choice is yours.

Clara felt tears hot and unwanted behind her eyes. I didn’t ask for any of this, she said. The words were small and true. I didn’t sign up.

You didn’t get to sign anything before, Ronan said. Welcome to what you were born to.

Outside, the trees whispered. Somewhere in the dark, a branch snapped. Clara’s breath hitched. Ash squeezed her hand until it hurt. The moon edged out from behind a thin cloud and silvered Ronan’s face. He stepped back into shadow.

You have until the moon rises, he repeated. We will be waiting.

The pack moved like a river folding back into itself. The porch boards creaked as they left. Ash stood with Clara in the silence that followed. The cabin felt too full and empty at once.

What do you want? Clara whispered.

Ash’s face was close and his eyes were a storm. I want you to be safe, he said. Whatever you choose, I will not let them take you without a fight.

From the trees came a sound a whistle, low and quick, like a countdown. Clara’s stomach turned. A sharp footstep hit the ground near the tree line. The hunters had not gone. Someone else moved in the dark.

A single shot cracked the night like a broken branch. Clara did not know where it came from. The sound was close and sudden and full of promise. Ash blasted upright and his hand left hers like a firework.

The cabin door slammed open and a figure lunged in the doorway, soaked and furious, eyes wild. The world narrowed to the figure and a single shouted name.

“Run.”