They could smell her. Could track that she was in his bedroom, that something fundamental had shifted between their Alpha and the human research assistant he was supposed to be protecting with professional distance.
“You need to start being more honest with us,” Kol said, his voice carrying the cool edge of someone who’d reached the end of his patience. “You don’t summon heightened patrols and lock yourself down with the human research assistant without good reason.”
“She needs my constant protection,” Korrak replied, his voice steady and controlled, but Winslet caught the warning beneath it—the subtle shift in tone that marked the difference between a man explaining himself and an Alpha who wouldn’t tolerate being questioned. “And like I said yesterday, someone is poking around here uninvited near the research outpost.”
That landed with visible impact. The other clan members exchanged looks—grim and disapproving, their body language radiating the kind of tension that came from feeling their territory was under threat.
“I told you this would happen,” Kol snapped, his composure cracking. “Another human here was a risk. Now we’ve got outsiders testing us, and you’re hiding her in your cabin like?—“
“Enough,” Korrak cut him off, the single word carrying enough authority to silence the Beta mid-sentence.
But Kol was already looking past him again, his gray eyes hard with the kind of knowledge that came from years of friendship and the ability to read between lines. “You’ve never protected anyone like this. Not even close. You’re being reckless.”
Winslet’s chest tightened with guilt so sharp it felt like physical pain. This was her fault. All of it.
She took a step forward without thinking, the floorboard beneath her bare foot creaking softly. Every gaze snapped toward the sound, toward her, and she suddenly felt exposed.
Then Kol said it, low and sharp and unthinking. “Just because she’s your mate doesn’t mean the clan isn’t concerned about this situation.”
The word hit like a crack splitting ice.Mate.
The room went deathly still, the kind of silence that preceded either violence or revelation. Winslet felt the blood drain from her face as the word echoed in her mind, carrying implications she didn’t yet have language for but understood on some instinctive level.
Korrak turned slowly, fury etched into every line of his powerful frame. When he spoke, his voice carried the kind of quiet menace that made strong men step back. “Get out. Patrol the perimeter. Now.”
No one argued. The three men retreated immediately, their footsteps crunching through snow as they put distance between themselves and their Alpha’s barely contained rage. But the damage was done, the word hanging in the air like a live wire.
The cabin felt smaller once the door shut, the walls seeming to press in around them. Winslet stood frozen, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
Mate.What did that mean? What did it make her to him?
She looked at Korrak, taking in the tension radiating from his broad shoulders, the anger barely contained in his eyes, andthe way his hands had clenched into fists at his sides. Part of her wanted to demand answers, to understand what Kol had meant, but something in Korrak’s expression warned her this wasn’t the moment for questions.
Instead, guilt flooded in stronger than confusion, washing over her in waves that made her stomach churn. She had brought danger here. She had disrupted something ancient and carefully balanced. She had driven a wedge between an Alpha and his people.
Whatevermatemeant, whatever significance that word carried in his world, it was already causing harm. The thought that she might cost him the respect of his clan—or worse, that her presence might put lives at risk—settled in her bones like lead.
“Korrak,” she began. “I’m sorry. I never meant for?—“
“You have done nothing wrong,” he said, turning to face her with that absolute attention he gave everything that mattered to him. There was no accusation in his voice, no edge of resentment, only certainty. “You came here because you needed to survive. That need matters.”
He crossed the space between them in two strides, his hands coming up to frame her face. “This is your best chance, Winslet. I will protect you with my life.”
Something loosened in her chest at his words, some knot of tension she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying for the past week. When he kissed her, it was with the kind of reassurance that spoke of choice rather than obligation, of desire rather than duty.
She kissed him back, pouring all her gratitude and growing trust into the contact, trying to forget the complications pressing in around them and focus only on his solid strength and the safety he offered without conditions.
Korrak seemed to sense her emotional turmoil in ways that should have been impossible, holding her tighter and kissing her deeper, as if he could absorb her fears and transform them into something bearable. The intensity of his response felt both refreshing and exposing.
When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, his breathing slightly uneven. “Everything will work out,” he said, the words carrying the weight of a vow. “You only have to trust me.”
Winslet knew she shouldn’t trust so easily—not after Bracken, not after years of learning that love could become a cage and protection could transform into control. But Korrak was different. She could see it in the way he led, in the respect his people showed him even when they disagreed, in the way he fixed problems to make life better for everyone rather than to increase his own power.
The thought of a future with him bloomed uninvited in her mind, terrifying and fragile and bright.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Korrak said softly.
Every muscle in her body went rigid. Her hands, which had been tracing lazy patterns across his bare chest, froze against his skin. The familiar dread crashed over her in waves, that bone-deep certainty that whatever came next would change everything.
