Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 

KADE POV

TWO YEARS LATER

"She called ahead," Rowan said, appearing in my doorway at seven in the morning with a coffee he had not brought for me. "Formally. Through a legal representative."

I looked up from the border report. "Who did?"

"Delacroix Pharmaceuticals." He took a slow sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim. "They requested a formal meeting. Today. Two o'clock."

I went still.

Delacroix.

"What for?"

"They didn't say. But they sent preliminary terms ahead of time. Their representative called it a courtesy."

"Was it a courtesy?"

"It was a warning dressed as a courtesy." He paused. "Have you heard of them?"

"Yes."

I stayed silent.

"Seventeen critical cases as of this morning," he said. "Fenwick's daughter went into the advanced stage overnight."

I set the report down.

Fenwick was my head of eastern border security. His daughter was nine. The healers had stopped giving me timelines two weeks ago.

"Two o'clock," I said.

"Two o'clock." Rowan pushed off the doorframe. "I'll have the hall prepared." He stopped at the door. "The legal representative also sent a profile. Of the CEO." He set a folder on the side table. "Thought you might want to read it before they arrive."

He left.

I opened the folder.

The photograph was professional. Sharp and cleanly lit. She was looking directly at the camera with an expression that gave nothing away.

I had seen that expression before. On a maid with champagne in her hair, standing in front of three hundred wolves, not crying.

Sera.

Same name, same face, same blank composure.

But the woman in this photograph wore a suit that cost more than most wolves made in a year. The woman I remembered scrubbed floors.

My hand tightened on the folder.

It can't be.

I stared at the photo for a long moment.

Two years.

Two years since I'd stood in that ballroom and watched her walk away. Two years of telling myself I'd done the right thing. Two years of checking on her from a distance, making sure she was still alive, telling myself it was just guilt.

I'd never found her.

She'd vanished. Completely. No trail, no trace, no sign of where she'd gone.

I'd told myself she was safer that way.

But now she was here. Walking back into my territory like she owned it.

Delacroix Pharmaceuticals.

I put the folder in my desk drawer and went to check on the infirmary.

***

The infirmary was worse than I'd expected.

Fenwick was sitting beside his daughter's bed. She was small. Her skin was pale, her breathing so shallow I had to watch her cheat to see if she was still alive.

"How is she?" I asked.

Fenwick looked up. His eyes were red. "The healer said she has days. Maybe less."

I opened my mouth. I closed it.

There were no words for this.

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed once.

That was all I could give him.

***

They arrived at 1:52.

I was at the window when the vehicles came through the gate.

Ellis appeared at my left. "Three vehicles."

"I can see that."

"Security in the first and third. Someone important in the middle." He squinted. "Very clean vehicles. Like they detailed them this morning specifically so we'd notice."

"Or they just clean their vehicles."

"Nobody cleans their vehicles that well without a reason."

Rowan appeared to my right. "The legal team confirmed two lawyers and a pharmaceutical consultant in the third vehicle," he said. "She travels with people who know how to use a contract as a weapon."

"Noted."

"Also her security detail is ex-military. At least three of them. The tall one by the front vehicle did two tours. I can tell by the way he stands."

"Rowan."

"I'm just saying."

The middle vehicle door opened.

She stepped out and looked up at the estate.

Kyle, who had spent two years restless and irritable, went completely still.

She was too far for me to see details. But I knew her. From the way she tilted her head and held herself.

It's her.

Kyle pressed forward.

Two years. I'd told myself the bond would fade. That was what happened with rejected mates, wasn't it? The wound healed. The scar stopped hurting. You moved on.

But Kyle hadn't moved on. He'd spent twenty-four months pacing the edges of my consciousness, restless and irritable, snapping at wolves who came too close, refusing to look at any female who crossed our path. 

And now she was here. Walking toward my estate, with ex-military security and a pharmaceutical empire and a face that hadn't changed at all.

Kyle wanted me to go to her. To hell with the contract. To hell with the Council. To hell with everything except the fact that our mate was fifty yards away and walking into someone else's arms.

Behind me, Ellis said, "Hm."

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

She started walking toward the entrance. Her team fell in around her. 

***

She came in without being announced.

Not loudly. She didn't sweep in. She just walked through the door ahead of her team, and the two pack members who should have announced her made eye contact with each other and stepped aside.

I respected that. It also irritated me.

She crossed the hall. Dark hair, shorter than before. A coat that cost more than my monthly wage. She stopped at the table, set down a document case, and opened it.

"Alpha Hawthorne," she said.

"Ms. Delacroix."

A pause. Brief and controlled on both sides.

"Thank you for seeing me on short notice," she said. Her tone acknowledged the courtesy without being grateful for it.

"You made it difficult to decline."

Something moved at the corner of her mouth. Not a smile. The shape of one.

Rowan made a sound behind me that he converted into a cough.

I pulled the contract toward me and read it. All twelve pages. 

The antiviral. Fully documented. Independently verified. Funding for the pack's recovery in stages.

And then—

I stopped.

A one-year Bonded Mate agreement. Ceremonial. Legally binding under pack law. Conferring protected status.

I looked up at her.

She looked back. Perfectly still.

This is what she wanted, I realized. This is why she came back.

Not for me. For the protection the contract offered.

She wanted to be my bonded mate on paper. 

I thought about Fenwick's daughter. About the nine-year-old girl who didn't have much time. About the three healers who hadn't slept in days.

I thought about the maid I'd rejected two years ago. The one I'd told to leave. The one I'd been quietly checking on ever since, making sure she was still alive, telling myself it was just guilt.

She was standing in my hall. And she hadn't come back for me.

"One year," I said.

She nodded.

I picked up the pen and signed.

She collected the contract with both hands, squared the pages against the table once, and slid them into the case. Then she almost exhaled.

Almost.

It was the first real thing I'd seen from her since she walked through the door.

"Welcome back to Silvermoon," I said.

Her eyes came up to mine. Something moved through them. Gone before I could name it.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll have the first antiviral doses ready by morning."

She closed the case, turned, and walked toward the door.

At my shoulder, Rowan leaned in. "Her scent is strange."

"I know."

"She's been here before, hasn't she."

I didn't respond. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the door she'd disappeared through.

She's hiding something, Kyle said.

I knew that. I'd known it from the moment I saw the contract.

A Bonded Mate agreement.

She didn't need to be my mate to get the antiviral. She could have just sold it, made a fortune and walked away.

But she wanted protection.

From what?