"I accept." The words sound like they're being dragged from her throat with hooks. "Under protest. For the record."
A ripple of reaction moves through the crowd. Shock from some. Amusement from others. My beta, Torben, standing at my right shoulder, makes a sound that might be a suppressed laugh.
My lips curve despite my best efforts. She has spine, this omega of mine. Helena trained her well.
"Your protest is noted," I say. "And irrelevant. The pact is satisfied. From this moment forward, Iris Carswell is under the protection of the Northern Pack. Any wolf who threatens her threatens me. Any challenge to her status is a challenge to my authority." I let my gaze sweep the hall, lingering on Daven's neutral expression. "I trust I make myself clear."
Silence answers me.
The formal ceremony continues with the traditional elements. An exchange of tokens, a shared cup of wine, words spoken in the old tongue that bind intention to action. Through all of it, Iris maintains her composure with impressive discipline. She doesn't flinch when the pack howls its acknowledgment. She doesn't tremble when I take her hand to present her to the assembly. She meets every curious stare, every hostile glare, with the same cool resistance she showed me in our first meeting.
She's being tested. She knows it. And she refuses to fail.
When the ceremony ends and the pack disperses toward the feast hall, Torben appears at my elbow with a concerned expression.
"The pack is divided," Torben murmurs, pitched low enough that only I can hear. "Daven's faction is already talking about the insult to tradition. They won't act openly, but there will be whispers. Tests. They'll probe for weakness."
"Let them probe."
"Stellan." Torben's voice carries a warning I rarely hear from him. "She's human. However impressive her composure tonight, she can't defend herself against a shifter who decides to make anexample of her. If someone decides to test your commitment by going through her..."
"Then I'll make an example of them instead." I turn to meet his eyes, letting him see the absolute certainty beneath my calm. "I've waited years for her, Torben. Surveillance, preparation, watching from a distance while circumstances kept her from me. Do you think I'll let some traditionalist fool take her from me now?"
Torben holds my gaze for a long moment. Whatever he sees there makes him nod slowly.
"The pack will fall in line," he says. "But she'll need allies. Wolves who see her as pack rather than outsider."
"Arrange it. Start with the younger wolves, the ones who haven't calcified into Daven's rigid thinking. Let them get to know her. Let them see what she is."
"And when the suppressants fail? When everyone can smell what she is?"
I smile, and it is not a kind expression. "Then the politics become much simpler, don't they?"
The feast continues without me. I have other priorities.
I find her in the Omega Suite, standing before the barred window with her arms wrapped around herself. The green dress pools around her feet, and her dark hair has escaped its formal arrangement to curl against her neck. She doesn't turn when my footsteps approach, but the tension in her shoulders tells me she knows exactly who's coming.
"The feast isn't over," I say. "You're expected to attend."
"I wasn't aware prisoners had social obligations."
I stop close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body. Close enough that the smell of her wraps around me and makes my wolf snarl with impatience. "You're not a prisoner. You're my betrothed."
"A distinction without a difference." She turns to face me, and her eyes blaze with fury that does nothing to mask the fear underneath. "You bought me with a contract I never signed. You dragged me across three states to lock me in a gilded cage. You stood in front of your pack and claimed me like property. What would you call it?"
"Fate." The word comes out rougher than I intend. "Destiny. The fulfillment of a debt that should never have been allowed to sleep so long."
"Pretty words for ownership."
I step closer, crowding her against the wall. Her back hits the stone, and she plants her feet and lifts her chin, daring me to push harder. The fire in her eyes makes something dark and hungry twist in my chest.
"You should know something about me, Iris." My voice drops into territory that isn't quite human, the growl of my wolf bleeding through. "I don't lose. I don't release. And I don't share. Whatever plans you're making behind those clever eyes, whatever escape routes your grandmother taught you to calculate, abandon them. You're mine now."
"I'm no one's." Her voice doesn't waver. "Least of all yours."
This close, the change in her scent is unmistakable. The suppressants are fighting a losing battle, and the sweetness underneath grows stronger with each racing heartbeat. Heat builds beneath her skin, warming the air between us. She doesn't know what's happening to her, doesn't understand why her body is responding to my proximity with flushed cheeks and quickened breath.
But I do.
