“Sometimes we have to protect ourselves,” I said carefully. “But fighting isn’t good. I shouldn’t have hit her.”
“She was mean first,” Thea said loyally. “She called us bad names.”
“Still doesn’t make it right, baby.”
Rowan tilted his head, studying my face intently. “Mama, your lip is healing.”
I touched my mouth, feeling the split that should have been bleeding. Instead, the skin was already knitting itself back together, the pain fading to nothing.
Just another reminder that Knox’s bite had changed me in ways I was still discovering. Just another thing I couldn’t control or understand.
Just another reason that Mary might be right about us not belonging anywhere.
24
— • —
Knox
I returned to Noah’s house feeling like death warmed over. The past twenty-four hours had been a special kind of hell that started with Mary Thorne and ended with blood on my hands from a rogue attack. My wolf had been snarling since yesterday, hating every second away from our mate and pups.
The forced date at the pack restaurant had been torture. Two hours of Mary talking about her family’s achievements, her education, her plans for “our” future while I counted ceiling tiles and thought about Lina. Every word out of Mary’s mouth had grated against my nerves until I’d wanted to flip the table and run. She’d ordered for me, touched my hand repeatedly despite my pulling away, and acted as if we were already mated. The other pack members in the restaurant had watched with interest, some approving, others skeptical. Mary had played toher audience perfectly, the devoted future Luna making her claim public.
Then the emergency message had come through. Rogues on the eastern border, multiple casualties already. I’d never been so grateful for an attack in my life. I’d left Mary mid-sentence about wedding venues and spent the rest of the night and most of today hunting down feral rogues with Noah and our patrol teams.
The rogues had been organized, too organized for typical ferals. They’d hit three patrol points simultaneously, testing our defenses. We’d lost two pack members before we could mount a proper defense. Good wolves with families who’d never see them come home. The guilt of that sat on my shoulders along with everything else.
Noah had fought beside me, neither of us speaking beyond tactical necessities. The distance between us hurt almost as much as the rejection from Lina. My brother, who’d always had my back, could barely look at me anymore. Not that I blamed him. I’d thrown away everything he’d ever wanted while he watched the only family he had left self-destruct.
Now, approaching his house with blood still under my fingernails and exhaustion weighing down my bones, all I wanted was to see Lina. To make sure she and the twins were safe. To maybe catch a glimpse of my family even if they still hated me.
The moment we got close, Mary’s scent hit us both.
“Fuck,” Noah muttered, stopping mid-stride. “She was here.”
My wolf surged forward, ready to tear apart anyone who’d threatened our mate. I forced him back, but barely. Mary had been in the same house as Lina and our cubs. The implications made my vision blur red at the edges.
Inside, the damage was minimal but telling. One of Noah’s coffee tables lay in pieces, wood scattered across the living room floor. Otherwise, the house seemed intact. The twins were watching cartoons, seemingly unbothered by whatever had happened. Lina sat rigid on the couch, her posture screaming tension.
The second we entered, the twins abandoned their show.
“Uncle Noah!” Thea launched herself at my brother’s legs with the enthusiasm only a four-year-old could muster. “Mama said you were working!”
Noah caught her easily, swinging her up. “I was, little wolf. Did you have fun today?”
The ease with which my brother handled the twins shouldn’t have surprised me. Noah had always been good with pups, even as kids ourselves. He’d been the one who helped with the younger pack members, teaching them games and telling them stories. The pack mothers used to joke he’d make a better parent than most of them. Now he was lavishing all that natural affinity on my children, being the uncle I’d robbed them of having from birth.
Rowan hung back, studying me with those gray eyes that were so much like looking in a mirror. He didn’t rush forward for hugs, just watched me with an intensity that belonged on someone much older.
“Hi,” I said quietly, not sure what else to offer.
“Hi,” he replied, then went back to his show.
Lina’s eyes found mine across the room, and the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. The warmth she’d shown our children vanished the moment she looked at me, replaced by arctic fury that made my chest tight.
“Kids, want to see my comic collection upstairs?” Noah asked with forced brightness, already recognizing the brewing storm. “I’ve got some new ones about wolves.”
“Real wolves or cartoon wolves?” Thea asked suspiciously.
