“That’s not-”
“It is.” She squeezed my hand, stopping my protest. “Every decision you’ve made has been about protecting me from something. The mate bond, the pack, now Mary. When do I get to protect myself? When do I get to protect you?”
The question stunned me. Protect me? I was the Alpha, the one who did the protecting. But looking at her, fierce even while injured, I realized she was right. I’d never let her be my equal, always trying to shield her from the harsh realities of my world.
“I don’t know how to do that,” I admitted. “How to let someone else share the burden.”
“Learn,” she said simply. “Because I can’t be with someone who treats me like glass. I’ve survived without you for years, raised our children alone, built a life. I’m not fragile.”
“No,” I agreed, bringing her hand to my lips. “You’re the strongest person I know. And I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner.”
“Yes, you are.” But she was almost smiling now. “So what happens next? With Mary, with the pack, with us?”
“With Mary, we wait for Noah’s information. With the pack, I’ll handle the fallout when the truth comes out. With us...” I hesitated, hope and fear warring in my chest. “What do you want to happen with us?”
She was quiet for a long moment, then held out her hand. “Give me the ring.”
I pulled it from my pocket immediately, heart racing. She took it, turning it over in her fingers, studying the sapphire in the afternoon light.
“I’m not putting it back on yet,” she said, and my hope dimmed. “But I’ll keep it. And you’ll earn it. No more secrets, no more protecting me from truths I have a right to know. We’re partners or we’re nothing.”
“Partners,” I agreed immediately. “Always.”
“We’ll see.” She slipped the ring into her own pocket, then winced as the movement pulled at her wounds. “Now go check on our children. They were terrified.”
Our children. The casual acknowledgment of my place in their lives made my chest tight with emotion.
“Lina-”
“Go,” she said firmly. “We’ll talk more later. Right now, Thea and Rowan need to see that their parents are okay. Both of us.”
Their parents. Both of us. I kissed her forehead, unable to help myself, then stood.
I had some serious groveling to do. And a promise to keep about no more secrets, even if sharing the burden felt like learning to breathe underwater.
31
— • —
Lina
The pack wedding between two of Knox’s warriors looked beautiful from what I could see through Noah’s window. Fairy lights strung between trees created a magical glow in the growing dusk, wolves in both forms mingling freely. Some stayed on four paws, others wore their human skin, all celebrating together in a way I’d never witnessed before. The bride wore a flowing white dress that caught the light as she danced, while her new husband kept spinning her with obvious adoration.
I wanted to be there. Wanted to see more of Knox’s world, meet his pack members properly instead of hiding away in Noah’s house. But we’d agreed it was too dangerous with Mary still out there plotting.
The twins played quietly on the floor with their blocks and toy wolves, building elaborate pack dens with the focus only children could manage. They’d been picking up on my mood all day, giving me extra hugs and showing me their drawings with unusual solemnity.
“Mama sad?” Thea asked, abandoning her blocks to climb into my lap with Mr. Unicorn clutched tight.
“Just thinking, baby.” I smoothed her dark hair, breathing in her familiar scent. My ribs still ached from Mary’s attack three days ago, though Knox’s careful tending had helped them heal faster than normal. The enhanced healing from his bite was useful, even if I still wasn’t sure how I felt about being permanently changed without my consent.
Through the window, wedding laughter carried on the evening wind. Someone had started a traditional pack song, voices joining together in harmony that made my chest tight with longing. This could have been our life if Knox hadn’t run. We could have been part of this community, raising our children among their own kind instead of hiding their nature in Pine Valley.
The singing cut off abruptly.
A scream pierced the night. Then another.
Howls erupted, but these weren’t the joyful sounds of celebration. These were alarms, warnings, the sound of a pack under attack.
