Fuck... you smell so nice

For a minute or more, the three of them just stared—especially the men. Too many emotions rolled between them, thick in the air.

Tara looked between them, eyes shifting from one face to the other. Salem was the first to break. He turned his back, ready to leave.

“Salem, wait!” she called out quickly.

He froze in his tracks, slowly turning to face her again.

Amarok frowned at her action but stayed silent, simply watching.

“Why are you leaving?” she asked softly. Her voice carried something fragile, something that gripped both men.

“I... I just wanted to check how you were doing,” Salem said in a low voice. “But I guess you're busy.” His eyes shifted to Amarok.

Amarok didn’t hide his glare.

Tara sighed. “Amarok was also checking up on me,” she explained, trying to ease the tension. She patted the space beside her on the bed. “Don't just leave. Come sit.”

Amarok let out a quiet groan, clearly not pleased. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word.

“I don't think that’s a great idea...” Salem muttered, glancing at Amarok.

“I’m glad you know that,” Amarok said sharply.

The air between them shifted again—tense, thick, charged. Tara felt it.

“Don’t say that,” she said softly to Amarok, before turning to Salem. “Come on. Sit. I still need to thank you for saving our lives.”

Salem muttered something under his breath but moved forward. He sat beside her on the bed, careful, yet close. Amarok's eyes never left him.

“No need to thank me,” Salem said, voice softer now. “I barely did anything. You still got hurt. I’m sorry for that.”

Even Amarok blinked in surprise at his tone.

But Tara reached out and took Salem’s hand. He looked down at their joined hands.

“No, Salem. You saved us. If you hadn’t come when you did…” she trailed off.

He didn’t reply. Just hummed lowly, his expression unreadable. Silence stretched between them, tense but not hostile, until she broke it.

“What do you think about the prophecy, Salem?”

He looked taken aback. His brows drew together, lips parting to speak—

“He already made it clear,” Amarok cut in, voice tight. “He wants no part in it.”

Salem let out a low growl. The thought of leaving them tore at him. Still, he didn’t want to be part of any of this.

He glanced at Tara. Her eyes were locked on him, so open, full of longing. His Wolf whimpered from deep inside him. But he still said the words.

“For once, the Alpha of the Frost Pack is making sense,” he said flatly.

Tara’s eyes dropped at his words. So it was true. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want them. The thought alone tore something inside her.

Their eyes met again. He could barely hold her gaze.

Amarok scoffed. “For once, the Alpha of the Gray Moon Pack made the right decision.” His chest felt tight even as he said it. His Wolf howled in protest.

“Salem,” Tara whispered. “I know this is a lot... for all of us. But that doesn’t mean you should just bolt.”

For the first time, Salem reached for her hands. The sparks hit the moment their skin met—warm, bright, familiar.

“I really hope you understand my decision,” he said quietly. “Orson and I are still learning to love ourselves. We only just started accepting who we are. And now this?” His voice cracked a little. “I can’t do it, Tara. I’m going back to my old life. Back to what I knew before the festival. I’m sorry.”

Then he stood.

The moment his warmth left her, silent tears slipped down her cheeks.

“That’s it?” Amarok barked, now on his feet. “Run away before the real battle even begins? Maybe that’s why the goddess gave you a male mate—because you’re not man enough to lead!”

Salem didn’t respond. He just gave them one final look, his expression unreadable—and walked out of the tent.

“Fuck!” Amarok roared. He kicked over a stool, sending it crashing to the floor.

Tara broke. Her sobs poured out, painful and raw.

Amarok rushed to her side. “Hey, hey… please don’t cry,” he whispered, kneeling in front of her.

“Why is this happening?” she wept. “Is he leaving because I got hurt?”

Amarok gently wiped her tears. “No. You’re not the reason. Don’t ever think that. I swear—everything will fall into place.”

“You promise?” she whispered.

“I promise.”

And then it happened. She flung herself into his arms suddenly.

Her small frame wrapped around his, her face buried in his neck. He froze for a second, stunned.

Then his arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her closer like he never wanted to let go.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled in each other's warmth.

Tara's cheek pressed gently against Amarok’s bare chest, his skin cool against hers, but somehow it brought comfort.

Her fingers clung softly to his shirt while his large hand moved in slow circles over her back, calming her. The silence wrapped around them like a second skin, and for once, her heart stopped hurting.

His head dipped, brushing his face against her neck. She felt it—a soft exhale, a low growl that vibrated right through her bones.

Then his tongue came out, dragging gently across her neck. Right where a mate’s mark should be.

“Fuck... you smell so nice,” Amarok whispered with a breathy chuckle, his voice rough and deep.

Her body shivered slightly. “You smell nice too,” she murmured shyly.

That strange, warm feeling bloomed between them again, like an invisible thread pulling them tighter.

Her tears had stopped. But something new had taken their place—something slower, deeper. Her body felt warmer now, like his touch had sparked a fire under her skin.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice strained, raw with need.

She froze. Her lips parted, heart thudding. “I...uh... I haven’t before,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

Gods. That hit him hard. The idea of being her first made something wild rise inside him.

“I know,” he said gently. “I’ll go slow.”

She bit her lip. “Okay.”

That was all he needed.

He leaned in, cupping her jaw with his hand as their lips met.

Her lips were soft—warm, like melted honey. He could taste her breath, a hint of sweetness, and something else, something that made his whole body react.

Her mouth opened slightly, and he took it deeper. She moaned into the kiss, and that was it—he growled, a deep, rough sound that vibrated through both of them.

But just as he pulled her closer, the tent flung open.

“HOW DARE YOU TOUCH HER?!”

Stone’s voice thundered through the space like a crack of lightning. His eyes were no longer his—they were his Wolf’s.

Savage and glowing. And without warning, his fist slammed into Amarok, knocking him off Tara and down onto the ground.

“Stone, STOP!” Tara screamed, scrambling up.

Amarok rose just as fast, eyes blazing. The growl that ripped from his throat was violent. The two of them charged at each other, fists flying, snarls tearing through the camp as they stumbled out of the tent and into the open clearing.

“ENOUGH!” Tara yelled, chasing after them.

But it was chaos.

Curtis and Gary came running, with Geri and Taylor right behind.

Curtis gripped Stone by the collar, yanking him back while Gary and Geri jumped in to hold Amarok down. Still, Amarok thrashed against their grip, his muscles trembling with rage.

“You kissed my sister?!” Stone roared.

Amarok spit blood to the side, then bared his teeth. “She’s my MATE! Or did you forget how this works?”

“She’s INNOCENT!” Stone barked, eyes glowing bright. “You don’t get to touch her just because of some fucking bond!”

“Stone, enough!” Curtis growled, grabbing his son by the arm. “She’s not a child anymore.”

“Maybe not,” Stone hissed, “but that doesn’t give him the right to lay hands on her like that!”

Taylor stepped in then, shoving her brother back. “She’s not your possession, Stone!”

Even Geri was pissed as fuck. “You bastard…. They are ours for fuck’s sake!” he too was ready to join in the fight, beat the shit out of this bastard.

Amarok straightened now, his chest heaving, jaw clenched. His eyes never left Stone. “You want to fight over her? Try me again.”

But before anyone could speak again, heavy footsteps echoed behind them—and Macon came running into the clearing.

His face was pale, eyes wide. “We have a bigger problem.”

Everyone turned to him.

“The Gray Moon Pack,” he said breathlessly. “They’ve set sail. They’ve left the island.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

All eyes widened. Hearts stopped.

“What?” Curtis asked, voice low with disbelief.

“They’re gone,” Macon confirmed. “They just left.”

Tara’s heart dropped. Her body turned cold.

Salem had left.

He left them behind.