C6

You aren't eating, Rhea. If you’re going to survive my sister’s drills, you’ll need more than just caffeine and stubbornness."

"I’m eating, Dominic. I’m just trying to figure out why your sister thinks a specific shade of red hair is the key to her happiness."

"What did she write to you?"

"She wants her hair dyed. Just like mine. She looked at me with those eyes—God, she’s good at the silent plea—and practically begged me to make her a redhead by morning."

"Absolutely not. She’s six. She hasn’t even hit her first shift yet, and you want to start chemical treatments on a Wolfe heir?"

"I didn't say I wanted to. I said she asked. But it’s more than hair, isn’t it? It’s a bridge. She’s trying to find a way to connect, and for some reason, she’s picked me as her template. Why are you so quick to shut down anything that isn't on your rigid schedule?"

"Because this pack runs on discipline, Rhea. Not on whims and watercolor paints."

"She’s a child, not a soldier! I spent the afternoon playing tic-tac-toe and watching her paint a family in front of a house with a red door. A man, a woman, and a girl. All smiling. Care to tell me whose hands those were in the painting, or is that another 'pack secret' I’m not cleared for?"

"Eat your dinner, Rhea. The past is a dead weight. We focus on the future. On the ice."

"Fine. We'll play it your way. For now."

I spent the rest of the evening in a war of silence with the most frustrating man I’d ever met. After I tucked Lydia in—reading her legends of the First Great Shift until her eyes drifted shut—I retreated to my room. I needed a shower to wash off the scent of his authority.

I stood before my closet, my heart doing a nervous staccato against my ribs. I had two dresses. Neither was meant for seduction, which was perfect, because after that kiss in the study, the last thing I wanted to do was give him an opening. I chose the black one—high collar, long sleeves, modest hem. I looked like a mourner, or a nun. Good.

I headed down the marble staircase, my palm damp against the cold stone banister. I was seven minutes late. Every step felt like I was walking toward a ledge, the memory of his mouth on mine flashing like heat lightning in my brain. I wasn't a coward, but Dominic Wolfe made me want to run for the hills of Ravenfall.

I pushed open the heavy doors to the dining hall.

The silver was blinding under the chandeliers, and the scent of expensive tobacco and cedar hit me like a physical blow. Dominic was already there, lounging at the head of the table, a thin trail of smoke curling from his lips.

"Sit next to me, Rhea. I don't feel like shouting across ten feet of mahogany."

"I think I’ll be fine at the other end, Alpha. I’ve always enjoyed the perspective from a distance."

"I wasn't asking. Sit."

Our eyes locked through the blue haze. His gaze was like a predatory shadow, dark and pinning me to the floor. I felt the oxygen leave the room. It was maddening—the way my body reacted to him, the way my wolf paced with a frantic, desperate recognition.

He looked like he’d just stepped out of the steam. His dark hair was damp, slicked back from a forehead that looked like it was carved from granite. He’d lost the tie; the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the dark, intricate ink of pack markings trailing down his throat and across his collarbone.

"You’re staring, Rhea. Is the view from Ravenfall not as interesting?"

"I’m just admiring the ink. I didn't realize the Blackport Alpha was so... traditional."

"There is a lot you don't realize about me. Yet."

I cleared my throat, forcing my leaden feet to move to the chair beside him. Victor Cruz appeared like a ghost, silently sliding the chair out and draping a linen napkin across my lap.

"Red or white?" Victor asked, his voice low.

"Red. Deep red."

My voice came out as a raspy ghost of itself. I couldn't look at Dominic. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the heavy musk of his desire clashing with the cold, sterile elegance of the room. It was like sitting next to a live wire.

"To a successful season on the ice," Dominic murmured, raising his glass.

I lifted mine, my hand trembling just enough for the crystal to catch the light. I wasn't just losing my mind; I was losing the battle before the first puck had even dropped.

"To our health, Rhea."

"To our health. And to a successful training season. I apologize for the delay. Navigating the corridors of this estate is a task in itself."

"Don’t apologize. It is the prerogative of a beautiful woman to make an entrance, especially one who intends to shake up my household. Do you find the vintage to your liking?"

"It’s excellent. Though, to be honest, I think I could drink battery acid right now and not notice the difference. My nerves are still back in the hallway."

"Is it the house that rattles you, or the host?"

"Let's talk about Lydia, Dominic. She’s a gifted pup, but she’s carrying a weight no six-year-old should. What happened to your brother and his mate? The files mentioned a territory accident."

"They were killed a year ago. A rogue ambush on the border of Ravenfall. They didn't stand a chance."

"I’m so sorry. I lost my own mother to a rogue raid when I was young. I know what that kind of violence does to a child's spirit. It leaves a scar that doesn't always heal with the shift."

"Lydia hasn't asked for them since the day I told her they weren't coming back. She’s a Wolfe; she understands the cost of our borders, even if she doesn't have the words to scream about it yet."

"She understood more than you think. She showed me a drawing today. A family. Happy. Smiling. She’s living in the past because the present is too quiet."

"She wasn't always a statue. Before the tragedy, she was my shadow. I’d take her out to the training rinks in my SUV, let her stand through the sunroof so she could scent the wind. She used to howl with the joy of it."

"And now?"

"Now she’s a ghost. She prefers the synthetic ice in her room to the main arena. She’s retreated into books and silent games."

"The records say she stopped talking six months ago. That’s a half-year gap after the deaths. What changed then?"

"I was away. I had to travel to the US expansion territories for a hockey summit—expansion rights and talent scouting. I was gone four days. When I left, she told me to bring her back a new jersey. When I returned, the silence had set in. Permanent and absolute."

"Did something happen while you were gone? A scent in the house? A threat?"

"My sentries say no. Logan and Victor swear the perimeter was never breached. She simply woke up one morning and decided the world didn't deserve her voice anymore. I’ve had Graves run every test—physical, neurological, even spiritual. She’s healthy. Her wolf is there, just... sleeping."

"The pack psychologist called it delayed trauma. But you don't buy it, do you?"

"If she weren't the best in the UK Coastal packs, I’d say she was guessing. Lydia was improving. She was grieving, yes, but she was moving forward. Then, overnight, she hit a wall. I’ve offered her everything—trips to the high-mountain sanctuaries, private skates with the league MVPs. She won't engage. It’s like she’s waiting for a signal I can't hear."

"The rogue ambush... was it really just an accident? Or was it an assassination?"

"That isn't your concern, Rhea. Your job is to get her back on the ice, not to investigate pack history. Bringing up the blood will only cause her more pain."

"I’m her trainer, Dominic. If I don't know where the wound is, I can't help it heal. Her silence is a shield. I need to know what she’s hiding from."

"She’s hiding from nothing. She’s protected by the strongest pack in Blackport. Now, eat your soup. It’s a cream of wild mushroom, though I suspect you’re going to tell me it tastes like cardboard."

"It’s... adequate. I’ve had better in the Ravenfall mess halls."

"Liar. You’re just determined to disagree with me on principle. I hear you moved the lunch service to the kitchen sunroom today. Margaret was quite scandalized."

"I did. That dining hall is for Alphas and ego-trips. Lydia needs sunlight and a table where she can actually reach the salt. She relaxed there. She actually smiled."

"I suppose I could join you there next time, though Vivienne would likely have a stroke if she saw me eating near the dishwashers."

"God forbid the Alpha sees how the common wolves live. It might humanize you."

"Careful, Rhea. Your tongue is going to get you into a penalty box you can't climb out of."

"I’ll take my chances. What about the elite hockey academy? Do you plan on enrolling her this term? The interaction with other pups would be good for her."

"Absolutely not. In her state, she’d be a target. Pups can be cruel to those who don't howl with the rest of the litter. I won't have her bullied or shamed for a condition she can't control. She’ll train here, with you, until she’s ready to dominate the ice again."

"And outings? Surely she needs more than just these stone walls."

"She’s refused to leave the estate with me. But she might go with you. You seem to have a way of circumventing my authority that she finds... appealing."

"I’ll take her to the coastal piers. The fresh sea air and the public transport will do her wonders. It’ll ground her."

"No public transport. Ever. You will be escorted by my security detail in an armored SUV. The Wolfe name carries a price in Blackport, and I won't have either of you as collateral."