His claws extended, puncturing the flesh of his palms. The pain was distant, inconsequential, lost beneath the roar of his beast.
“Let them come.”
“That’s one option.” Korrin’s voice was calm, reasonable—the voice of a man who had talked others down from violence more times than he could count. “You’re strong. You could probably take half of them before they brought you down. Maybe more. But there are always more humans and you have people to protect now, don’t you? A mate. A child.”
His vision narrowed, his beast howling for blood.
“If you threaten them?—”
“I’m not threatening anyone.” Korrin didn’t flinch, despite the murder that must have been blazing in Tarek’s eyes. “I’m trying to help you. That’s why I’m here.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and dangerous. His beast demanded violence, demanded that he tear out the throat of this intruder who dared speak of his mate and her sister. Butsomething in Korrin’s voice—some note of sincerity that cut through the red haze of his rage—made him hesitate.
“Help me,” he repeated flatly. “Why?”
“Because my alpha asked me to.” Korrin crossed his arms over his chest, a deliberately casual posture that somehow managed to look threatening anyway. “Seren took over the pack a few years back, and he’s been trying to rebuild ever since. He wants to build something that doesn’t involve blood and chaos and endless cycles of revenge.”
“Noble of him.”
“He’d say it’s practical.” A ghost of a smile crossed Korrin’s face. “What purpose do those violent clashes serve? He’s been working on establishing trade routes with some of the human settlements instead, ones that benefit both sides. It’s slow going, but it’s working.”
His mind raced, trying to fit this new information into his understanding of the world. He’d always assumed that the pack on the other side of the mountains was like all the others, brutal and territorial.
The idea that they might be building something different, something better, was almost impossible to comprehend.
“What does any of this have to do with me?”
“You’re an exile,” Korrin said simply. “So was I, once. Seren doesn’t believe that exile should be a death sentence. He thinks we’ve lost too many people to a system that throws away anyone who doesn’t fit the mold.”
“I was exiled by the Vultor council.”
The words fell into the silence like stones into still water. He hadn’t meant to say them, but they needed to know his exile wasn’t simply a pack dispute.
Korrin’s expression didn’t change. “Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“It might.”
“My work was being used to hurt people,” he said quietly. “So I destroyed it. I broke my vow to my House.”
Another silence. When he looked up, Korrin was watching him with an expression that was almost… respectful.
“The pack has room for males who protect the weak,” he said. “Even if they had to break rules to do it. Especially then, maybe.”
“I don’t want to join a pack.”
“You don’t have to.” Korrin shrugged. “The offer isn’t contingent on membership. Seren’s extending a hand to other exiles—friendship, support, protection if it’s needed. No strings attached. If you want to stay out here in your territory with your mate, that’s your choice. We’ll respect it. But if you need help…” He let the sentence hang, unfinished.
His thoughts churned. The part of him that had spent five years alone wanted to send this stranger away and return to his solitary existence, his walls intact.
But he wasn’t solitary anymore. He had Jessa now, and Dani, and they deserved more than a life spent hiding in the shadows.
“The hunting party,” he said slowly. “Can you stop it?”
“Already done.” Korrin’s smile was sharp, predatory. “I paid a visit to a member of the village council before coming here and explained that the Vultor pack has taken an interest in the well-being of those who live in these mountains. That we would be… displeased if anything happened to the woman or her sister. Or you.”
“And he believed you?”
