Chapter 5 - Contraband

Grant

Brax waited until Rae’s door closed before offering me the pizza box.

“Peace offering?”

I kept walking.

“That’s a no, then.”

The girls’ dorm supervisor watched us descend the stairs with an expression that suggested she was already composing the incident report. Brax smiled at her and lifted the box in greeting.

“Successful morale intervention.”

“You entered through a laundry window,” she said.

“Allegedly.”

White dust still clung to his hair.

I continued through the lobby before he could make the situation worse. He caught up outside, completely unbothered by the whispers that followed us across the courtyard.

The academy had quieted since classes ended, but Rae’s first day had already become the evening’s favorite subject. Students stood beneath the old stone arches and near the fountain, pretending not to watch us while failing badly.

I caught fragments as we passed.

Brax.

Girls’ dorm.

Pizza.

Rae.

Her name settled harder than the others.

“You made everything worse,” I said.

Brax glanced at me. “You’re welcome.”

“That wasn’t gratitude.”

“It had the same emotional warmth.”

“You carried contraband into a restricted dorm after half the academy spent the day talking about her.”

“The pizza isn’t contraband.”

“You climbed through a window.”

“That was about access, not the pizza.”

I looked at the box tucked beneath his arm. “Where did you even get it?”

His face brightened. “Pizza connections.”

“There are no pizza connections.”

“That is exactly what someone without pizza connections would say.”

“You broke at least three academy rules.”

“I delivered morale.”

“You delivered grease.”

“Morale often comes with grease.”

I stopped beneath one of the lanterns lining the path and faced him. “She’s going to hear all of this tomorrow.”

His grin faded slightly. “Probably.”

“You don’t seem concerned.”

“I am concerned.”

“You’re still eating.”

“I can multitask.”

I exhaled and started walking again.

Brax followed, quieter now.

“You think attention is what hurts her,” he said.

“It does.”

“Maybe.” He shifted the box beneath his arm. “But she was already alone before I got there.”

The answer silenced me.

The command suite occupied the far corner of the leadership wing, separated from the standard dorm rooms by a private staircase and a small common hall. Ravenwood called it practical preparation. Future Alphas, Betas, Gammas, and Deltas were expected to learn how to live and work together before assuming command.

It also meant I knew far too much about Brax’s appetite.

He pushed open the suite door and placed the remaining pizza on the coffee table before dropping onto the couch.

“I’ve had a productive evening.”

“You nearly got banned from Dorm B.”

“Nearly is the important word.”

I picked up the Leadership Theory book I had left beside one of the chairs and opened it to the marked page.

The letters refused to become words.

All I could see was Rae sitting on the edge of her bed with a soda in one hand and a smile still lingering on her face.

A real smile.

There had been a time when I heard her laugh every day. In the woods behind my parents’ house. In the kitchen while we stole food before breakfast. Beneath the old cedar tree where we hid whenever the adults wanted us to behave.

I couldn’t remember when her laughter had disappeared.

I could remember when it stopped belonging to me.

The suite door opened.

Julien entered first, followed by Linc. Both of them looked toward the pizza before either acknowledged us.

Julien stopped. “Is that what I think it is?”

Brax sat straighter. “Victory pizza.”

Linc lifted the lid. “Victory over what?”

“Sadness.”

Julien looked from Brax to me. “Do I want to know?”

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” Brax answered.

Linc took a slice and moved toward the chair beside the window. “Where did you get it?”

Brax spread his hands. “Pizza connections.”

Julien closed his eyes briefly. “There are no pizza connections.”

“You keep saying that while surrounded by pizza.”

Linc took a bite. “The evidence supports Brax.”

Julien looked betrayed. “Not you too.”

“I follow facts.”

Brax pointed at him. “This is why he handles intelligence.”

I turned a page I had not read.

The room settled into familiar noise. Brax explained his alternate entrance to the girls’ dorm while Julien questioned every poor decision that had led to it. Linc ate in silence, occasionally offering one sentence that made Brax appear more reasonable than he deserved.

Normally, I could have ignored them.

Tonight, Rae’s smile remained fixed in my mind.

“You’re quiet,” Julien said.

“I’m reading.”

“No, you’re holding a book.”

Brax leaned over the back of the couch. “It’s upside down.”

I glanced at the page.

It wasn’t.

He grinned. “Made you look.”

I shut the book. “What do you want?”

Julien sat across from me. “I want to know what happened.”

“You already know.”

“I know Brax disappeared with food. You went after him. Then both of you emerged from the girls’ dorm, and now half the academy is talking about it.”

Brax raised a finger. “Important correction. I emerged with leftovers.”

“That is not the part anyone cares about.”

“It should be.”

Julien ignored him. “Did something happen with Rae?”

“No.”

Brax made a sound around his pizza.

I looked at him.

He wisely continued chewing.

Julien noticed anyway. “Brax?”

“She laughed.”

The room changed.

Julien’s expression sharpened. Linc looked up from his slice.

I kept my voice even. “People laugh.”

“Rae doesn’t,” Linc said.

I turned toward him.

He offered no explanation.

He rarely did. Linc could place one sentence in a room and leave everyone else to deal with the damage.

“He made her laugh in twenty minutes,” I admitted. “I can’t remember the last time I did.”

Brax lowered his pizza.

The confession sat badly inside my chest.

He had walked into her room with stolen food and ridiculous jokes, and she had opened for him without realizing it.

I had once known exactly how to make her laugh.

Then I taught her not to expect anything from me.

“Don’t look like that,” Brax said.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to turn guilt into a strategy.”

“That isn’t a thing.”

“It is when you do it.”

Julien considered me. “He may be right.”

“He isn’t.”

“I am,” Brax said. “It’s upsetting for both of us.”

I set the book aside. “Rae does not need all of you making her the center of attention.”

Julien’s eyebrows lifted. “All of us?”

“You offered your hand in front of the whole courtyard.”

“She fell.”

“You invited her to the festival in front of half the class.”

“She said no because she believes she doesn’t belong there.”

“And Brax broke into her dorm.”

“Peasant tea party,” Brax corrected.

“You’re giving people reasons to talk.”

“They were already talking,” Julien said.

“They’ll talk worse now.”

“They have spent years discussing the human girl living in the Alpha’s house. My hand did not create that.”

“It gave them something new.”

“They would have found something else.”

Brax nodded. “He has a point.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I rarely do, but he still has a point.”

Julien leaned forward. “You think attention is the danger.”

“It is.”

“I watched three girls surround her while two of them shoved her to the ground today.”

My jaw tightened. “I stopped it.”

“You stopped Quinn after Rae was already down.”

The distinction landed exactly where he intended.

I had stopped what came next.

I had not prevented what mattered.

Julien’s voice remained calm. “Do you know what she did when I offered to help her?”

“She refused.”

“She thanked me first.”

I frowned.

“She was more concerned about what accepting my hand would cost than about the scrapes on her palms.”

Brax’s humor faded.

Julien continued. “She apologized without saying the word. You could see it in her face.”

Linc rested one elbow against the chair arm. “She expects kindness to cost her something.”

No one argued.

Because we had all seen it.

Rae measured everything. The space she occupied. The food she accepted. The help she allowed herself to need.

I had spent years calling it independence because the truth was harder to face.

The day my wolf recognized Rae, I believed distance was the safest thing I could give her.

I was twelve when it happened. One moment, she was running toward me across the clearing, smiling because I had shifted for the first time. The next, my wolf surged forward with a single word burning through both of us.

Mate.

Rae.

The human girl raised in my parents’ home.

My best friend.

My future Luna.

The bond should have felt like a gift. Instead, I saw every danger it would place around her.

An Alpha heir claiming a human would never remain private. Elders would interfere. Packs would question whether she could lead. Every enemy Ravenwood possessed would discover the easiest way to reach me.

They would not judge Rae for anything she had done.

They would judge her because of me.

So I stepped back.

Then farther.

Then far enough that she stopped waiting for me to return.

At the time, I called it protection.

Tonight, I couldn’t stop wondering whether all I had done was teach her that everyone eventually left.

“She plans to go,” I said.

Julien’s eyes narrowed. “Go where?”

“Anywhere outside Ravenwood. My mother told me years ago that Rae intended to attend a human university.”

Brax sat back. “She wants to leave the pack?”

“She wants to leave all of it.”

“The academy?”

“After graduation.”

“Ravenwood?”

“Yes.”

“The wolves?”

I nodded.

Brax looked down at the pizza box. “Maybe because everyone here treats her like garbage.”

“That’s part of it.”

“That sounds like most of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No,” he admitted. “But she looked surprised when I brought food without asking for anything in return.”

Linc nodded once. “She doesn’t expect people to stay.”

Julien folded his arms. “Then someone should.”

My attention snapped to him. “That isn’t your responsibility.”

“No,” he said. “It also isn’t forbidden.”

The word settled heavily between us.

Forbidden.

If only he knew.

For Julien, Brax, and Linc, Rae was the human girl they had finally started seeing. An outsider who deserved better than Ravenwood had given her.

For me, she was the secret I had carried since I was twelve.

Brax reached for another slice. “I’m inviting her to lunch tomorrow.”

I stared at him. “You’re doing what?”

“Inviting her to lunch.”

“She’ll say no.”

“Probably.” His gaze sharpened despite the smile on his face. “I’ll ask anyway.”

“She doesn’t need this.”

Brax set the slice down. “She doesn’t need you deciding what she needs either.”

The words should have angered me.

They didn’t.

Every choice I had made for Rae had been made without asking what she wanted. I had decided she needed distance. Silence. Protection from a bond she did not even know existed.

I had never once asked whether losing me hurt more than being chosen by me might have.

Julien leaned back. “You can’t keep treating her like attention is something dangerous.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it.”

I couldn’t.

Telling them the truth would change everything. My friends would understand the jealousy, the distance, and every terrible decision I had made. They would also begin watching Rae through the lens of a future Luna.

She already hated being observed.

I would not place another target on her back to make myself easier to understand.

Brax closed the pizza box. “She’ll probably refuse lunch.”

“She will,” I said.

“But she’ll think about it,” Julien replied.

Linc had gone quiet by the window, his gaze resting on the dark courtyard below.

“She doesn’t like eating alone,” he said.

Julien looked at him. “How do you know that?”

Linc remained still for several seconds.

Then his brow furrowed.

“I don’t know.”