Lithia’s expression shifts, confusion replacing hostility. “You saw my past?”
I nod slowly. “My visions… they’re not just about what’s coming. Sometimes they show me what I need to understand.” I swallow, trying to hold her gaze. “I understand your loyalty. I understand why you’d question me. And… I’m grateful you protected Ryker.”
The gathered wolves watch in silence. The weight of their eyes drapes over me like chains, not yet oppressive but heavy enough to remind me I don’t belong.
“I don’t ask you to accept me recklessly,” I tell Lithia, aware that I’m speaking to the entire pack now. “ Just… give me a chance. Judge me by what Icando. Not by what I was born without.”
I shift my hands in front of me, unsure what to do with them. “I’ll never run as a wolf, I know that. But I can see threats others miss. I’ll never draw blood with claws, but I’ll bleed for this pack if I have to. The Moon Goddess gave mesomething, even if it’s not what you’re used to.”
Lithia studies me for a long moment, her gaze searching mine for deception. Finally, her posture shifts, not quite relaxed but no longer openly hostile.
“The Alpha has chosen,” she says, inclining her head slightly. “Time will prove your worth... or your weakness.”
It’s not acceptance, not yet. But it’s an opening—a chance to prove myself through actions rather than words.
“Fair enough,” I reply, matching her formal tone.
Ryker steps forward, his presence commanding immediate attention. “Kitara is my mate and your Alpha Female,” he announces, his voice carrying through the cavern. “Her gift has already saved Shadowmist blood. Remember that before you whisper challenges.”
The gathered wolves disperse, conversations already buzzing with what they’ve witnessed. Lithia gives me one last measuring look before turning away, her movements still predatory but lacking the open aggression from moments before.
As Ryker guides me the rest of the way up the stairs, his hand returns to the small of my back.
“Are you okay?” he asks once we’re alone in the corridor leading to our chambers.
I shake my head, still processing what happened. “I’ve never had that happen before. Usually, my visions are either vague glimpses that come in dreams or forced visions that leave me bleeding and weak.” I look up at him, wondering. “Could it be the claiming bond? Your power somehow stabilizing mine?”
“Perhaps.” His finger traces the line of my jaw. “Time will tell.”
Inside our room, I let myself embrace the hope that I’ve so coveted.
“What did you see?” Ryker asks as he closes the heavy door behind us. “About Lithia?”
“Everything that makes her loyal to you,” I answer honestly. “Everything that makes her dangerous to your enemies.”
His smile is slow and satisfied. “Then you understand why you can trust her.”
“Yes.”
Through our bond, I feel his certainty—warm and absolute. “She now understands your value as well, little seer. Whether she admits it yet or not.”
As Ryker moves toward me, his intentions clear in the heat of his gaze, I realize that I’ve won something more significant than Lithia’s grudging acceptance. I’ve glimpsed what I could become here, with this pack, with this mate.
See?my wolf asks.He is a mate to stand beside.
The air inside the den is warm, faintly spiced with cedar and smoke. Ryker’s scent. Comforting. Commanding. Entirely him.
The silence stretches between us as I wrap the towel tighter around my body, damp tendrils of hair curling along my neck. I can feel his gaze like heat on my skin, tracking every breath, every shift of fabric.
“You handled Lithia well,” he murmurs, stepping toward me with the slow certainty of a predator who already knows his prey won’t run.
“I didn’t know I could,” I admit. “The vision came… clean. No pain or confusion.”
He stops in front of me, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from my cheek. “Because you weren’t alone in it.”
My breath catches. The bond between us hums, a pulse under my skin that responds to his nearness. There’s a pull between us that goes far deeper than attraction.
His fingers trail from my cheek down the line of my jaw, then lower, grazing my collarbone where the cloth begins to dip.
