chapter 10

The first time I realized that I could be useful without being tolerated, a frightened puppy fell asleep against my lap while I cleaned the wound on its paw.

I had spent most of my life trying to earn a place in rooms where nobody wanted me. At Blood Moon, even the simplest task could become an opportunity for Garrick to remind me of my supposed shortcomings, while Rosalie seemed to take personal satisfaction in making sure I never forgot that I was different.

At Mara Quinn's clinic, however, nobody cared whether I could shift, whether an Alpha had rejected me, or whether my bloodline was considered worthy. The animals needed help, and I was learning how to give it.

The puppy had been brought in that morning by a farmer who found it limping beside the road. It was small enough to fit across my forearms, with muddy brown fur and a white patch beneath its chin. Mara had cleaned the wound and explained how to change the dressing, but the animal kept trembling whenever anyone approached. I settled beside its blanket, speaking softly while I worked, and gradually felt its muscles relax beneath my fingers.

“There,” I whispered, securing the fresh bandage. “That wasn't so terrible, was it?”

The puppy rested its chin on my knee and closed its eyes. I smiled before I could stop myself, surprised by the warmth spreading through me. Nobody had ever looked at me with such uncomplicated trust. The puppy did not know my history, and it had no expectations of what I should become. For once, I was not being measured against someone else's idea of worth.

Mara watched from the doorway, carrying a box of supplies. “You have a way with them.”

“I'm patient.”

“Patience helps, but there's something else. That puppy was terrified when it arrived, and now it looks as though you've known each other for years.”

I shrugged, unwilling to discuss the strange things that had happened since I crossed the border. The wolves in the forest had bowed to me, a drunken stranger had fled after an inexplicable surge of power, and a fever dream had left me with the image of a burning forest lodged in my mind. I had no desire to add another mystery to the list.

“Perhaps it knows I'm not going to hurt it,” I said.

“Perhaps,” Mara replied, though her expression told me she remained unconvinced.

I returned to work, hoping the ordinary rhythm of the clinic would quiet my thoughts. By midday, I had cleaned the examination room, restocked the bandages, and helped Mara prepare food for the animals. My body still felt weaker than it should have, but I ignored the occasional dizziness and concentrated on the tasks in front of me. I needed this opportunity, and I refused to lose it because my body had decided to behave strangely.

Across the border, Adrian Blackthorn was discovering that some objects were harder to discard than he had expected.

The servants had gathered the belongings left behind after the Moon Ceremony, separating damaged ceremonial decorations from personal items abandoned in the confusion.

Among them was a simple bracelet that had been recovered near the place where I had stood before Adrian rejected me. Its worn fastening and modest design made it unremarkable beside the jewelry worn by the pack's wealthier families, but Adrian recognized it immediately.

He had the bracelet brought to his study.

When he turned it over in his palm, he remembered the ceremony and the silence that followed his rejection. He had told himself that refusing me was necessary to protect his authority, that an Alpha could not afford to make decisions based on a mate bond when the woman involved possessed no wolf. Yet the memory of my expression had refused to fade, particularly the moment I stopped looking at him as though his judgment mattered.

“Have Elena's belongings been removed from her room?” he asked the servant standing beside the desk.

“No, Alpha. We were waiting for your instructions.”

“Leave everything exactly as it is.”

The servant hesitated. “Everything, sir?”

Adrian's fingers closed around the bracelet. “Did I give you an unclear order?”

“No, Alpha.”

After the servant left, Adrian placed the bracelet inside a drawer rather than sending it to the storage room with the other recovered items. He told himself it was evidence connected to the rejected mate bond, something that might become relevant if questions arose about my departure. Preserving my room was practical, he insisted, because moving my belongings could complicate the search.

But practicality did not explain why he had kept the bracelet within reach of his hand.

Rosalie noticed the change before the servants finished carrying out his instructions. She had been waiting for an opportunity to secure her position beside Adrian, and his refusal to let anyone disturb my room seemed to offer precisely the opening she needed. She interpreted the gesture as proof that his rejection had not severed his emotional attachment to me, although she had no intention of allowing that possibility to threaten her ambitions.

“You cannot leave the pack wondering what comes next,” she told him when she entered his study later that afternoon. “People are already talking about the ceremony, and your refusal to claim a mate has made them question your judgment.”

“My judgment is not a subject for discussion.”

“Then give them something else to discuss. Announce our engagement. A public appearance would reassure the pack that your leadership remains secure.”

Adrian looked at her for a long moment before answering. “I will attend a public gathering with you, but I will not make a mating claim.”

Rosalie's smile faltered. “Why not?”

“Because I said I would attend a gathering, not make promises I have no intention of keeping.”

“You cannot expect me to stand beside you while everyone wonders whether you are still waiting for Elena.”

“Then perhaps you should concern yourself less with what everyone thinks.”

The dismissal stung, and Rosalie's expression hardened before she composed herself. She had secured an agreement for a public appearance, but it was not the commitment she wanted.

The pack would see them together and assume an engagement was approaching, yet Adrian's refusal to complete a mating claim left the matter unsettled. For the first time, Rosalie understood that his cooperation did not necessarily mean he intended to give her everything she desired.

At the clinic, I was unaware of the arguments unfolding over my absence. I was helping Mara prepare a meal when the room began to sway. The spoon slipped from my fingers and struck the counter, scattering a little food across the floor. I caught the edge of the worktable, trying to steady myself, but a wave of heat rushed through my body so suddenly that my knees weakened.

“Elena?” Mara hurried toward me. “What's wrong?”

“I don't know. I'm just dizzy.”

My words sounded distant, even to me. The warmth beneath my skin intensified until I felt as though I had been standing too close to a fire. My vision blurred, and I gripped the table harder, determined not to collapse in front of her. The effort proved useless. My legs gave way, and Mara caught my arm before I struck the floor.

She helped me onto a chair and pressed a cool cloth against my forehead. I tried to answer her questions, but the fever made it difficult to concentrate. Beneath the sleeve of my shirt, a sharp tingling spread along my wrist, followed by a sensation like a thin line of heat tracing itself across my skin.

Mara noticed me wince. “Show me your arm.”

I hesitated, then pushed back my sleeve.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke. A strange symbol had appeared on the inside of my wrist, faint but unmistakable, formed by delicate lines that curved around one another like an unfamiliar mark drawn in silver. It seemed to shimmer beneath my skin, becoming brighter as I stared at it.

“What is that?” I whispered.

“I don't know.” Mara leaned closer without touching it. “Does it hurt?”

“Not exactly. It feels hot.”

She reached for a clean cloth, but before she could examine the mark more closely, its brightness began to fade. The lines grew paler, breaking apart until they disappeared completely, leaving my skin as ordinary as it had been before the fever began.

I stared at my wrist, rubbing it with my fingertips as though I could recover the shape from memory. Nothing remained, and yet I knew I had seen it. The sensation beneath my skin faded slowly, leaving me exhausted and trembling.

Mara helped me upstairs and insisted that I rest while she watched the animals. I did not argue this time. As I lay beneath the blankets, I thought about the woman in the burning forest, the silver crown swallowed by flames, and the wolves that had bowed when I ordered them to stay back. I could no longer convince myself that exhaustion explained everything.

Something was happening to me, and I had no idea whether it was dangerous.

Before sleep claimed me, I lifted my wrist into the fading light and searched for the symbol again. My skin remained unmarked, but the image had settled into my memory with unsettling clarity. Somewhere beyond the border, Adrian Blackthorn was keeping a bracelet that belonged to the woman he had rejected, while I lay in a borrowed bed wondering what was awakening inside me.

For the first time, I feared that disappearing might not be enough to keep my past from finding me.