Semua Bab Fated in the Dark : Bab 31 - Bab 40

He didn’t move. Not for a full minute. Not even when the door clicked softly behind Rhett, sealing the room in silence and firelight and the ghost of a kiss that hadn’t yet faded from his lips. Rhett had kissed him and now he was gone. Jace sat on the edge of the bed like gravity had quadrupled. He stared at the spot where Rhett had stood, where his eyes had flickered with something between apology and defiance. The kiss hadn’t been slow. It hadn’t been cautious. It had been real and Jace had kissed him back. He pressed his hands flat to his thighs, willing them to stay still, to not shake, to not give him away—to himself, even, becauze he didn’t know what to do with this. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Rhett was a soldier’s Alpha. Commanding. Distant. Straight. So was Jace, or so he thought. That had been the safety of it—knowing the bond was something spiritual. Energetic. Not physical. Not something that would ever be acted on. He had resigned himself to that. Made pea

Rhett adjusted the collar of his shirt for the third time and still couldn’t get it to sit right, not that it mattered. The Summit didn’t care about tailoring. They cared about weakness. About signs of indecision. About cracks in the armor. And right now, Rhett felt like one breath might split him wide open. The next session was scheduled to begin in under two hours. On the surface, it was just another roundtable—territory disputes, patrol coordination, medical supply inventories. But everyone knew that wasn’t the real purpose. They were coming for him. Not with teeth or claws, but with questions. With suspicions. With eyes that watched too closely and ears that caught things never said aloud. And Rhett had handed them ammunition. No regrets. But the tension coiled low in his gut like a live wire. The knock came just as he finished buttoning his cuffs. “Mira,” he said without looking. He knew her steps. She stepped into his office, back straight, chin high, but her gaze was s

The quiet was more unnerving than the shouting. For once, the Summit chamber hadn’t tried to gut him alive. Rhett leaned back in his chair, half a glass of whiskey untouched at his elbow, and tried to process the fact that the political wolves had been too preoccupied with blood and battle reports to drill him about his personal life. At least—for now. The attacks had shifted everything. Territories breached. Packs undermined. Rumors of unnatural creatures moving through shadows and stormfronts alike. It had pulled attention from him—his bond, his Beta, his Luna. It had bought him time, and time was something he was no longer eager to waste. He glanced across the table. Jace sat on the other side of the low-lit dining room, posture relaxed in that deceptively easy way of his, fingers wrapped around a tumbler of water, lips slightly parted as he listened to Rhett’s recount of the Summit deliberations. He looked good in firelight. Too good and too close The room felt warmer than it

The celebration after the battle was subdued, shadows lingering beneath every victorious smile. The pack gathered in the open courtyard, torches burning against the night as healers tended to the injured. Rhett stood near the edge of the crowd, his sharp gaze scanning the wolves around him. There was a strange hum beneath the surface of the night—part relief, part unspoken anticipation. He felt Jace before he saw him. Jace’s steady stride was quieter than most, but the pull of the bond between them had become undeniable. Every time Rhett’s senses stretched, they caught Jace like a tethered thread—steady, solid, constant. Tonight, though, there was something different in the way Jace moved, shoulders rolling with coiled strength, golden-brown hair damp from sweat and blood. Their eyes met across the courtyard, and for the first time, Rhett didn’t look away. “Alpha.” Jace’s voice was low, husky from exhaustion and something deeper. “Beta,” Rhett answered smoothly, almost teasing, t

The Alpha house was silent when they returned, but Rhett wasn’t. His blood was still roaring from the fight, muscles coiled tight beneath his skin, his wolf restless and pacing. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it, the flash of claws, Mira’s snarl, Jace diving into danger without hesitation. The memory of nearly losing them both gnawed at him like an open wound. By the time they reached the landing, Rhett’s self-control had already frayed to threads. “Rhett—” Jace started, voice low, but he didn’t finish. He didn’t have the chance. Rhett turned, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and shoved him against the wall. “You could’ve died tonight,” Rhett growled, voice rough, every word vibrating through his chest. Jace didn’t flinch. His eyes, storm-gray in the low light, held Rhett’s without fear. “So could you.” That shouldn’t have made Rhett want him more, but gods, it did. There was no thought left. No Summit politics, no council scrutiny, no forbidden bonds. There was only