“You don’t have to...”she starts.
“I know,” I say with a small smile.“But I’m not going anywhere.”
She nods, swallowing hard.“I’m ...bad at belonging.”
“So am I,” I admit.
Her mouth twitches.Not a smile but close.When she closes the door behind her, the bond doesn’t dim.It hums, patiently waiting for us to accept what fate has destined.
I stand there for a long moment, listening to the pack breathe around me.For the first time since I can remember, fate didn’t feel like a weapon.It felt like a promise.
And I intend to keep it.
Chapter Three
Trinity
The entire compound smells like pine, clean cotton, and wolves who sleep without fear.
It shouldn’t matter.I’ve slept in worse places—caves slick with damp, abandoned cabins that whispered of rot, the open forest with only my knife and my wolf for company.I’ve learned how to curl around myself and pretend the world can’t reach me.
But this house has a room with a bed.A real one with a thick quilt.The walls are solid and the door stays closed.I sit on the edge of the mattress and wait for the other shoe to drop.
It doesn’t but the silence presses in, unfamiliar and heavy.Not the sharp, listening quiet of the wild.Not the screaming absence that follows when the dead finally leave me alone after weeks of company.
This is ...peaceful.My wolf shifts uneasily under my skin, pacing in a slow circle.“Too easy,”she murmurs and I don’t disagree.It definitely seems too good to be true.
I set my backpack down carefully, like the floor might object.I unroll my spare clothes and line my boots beneath the bed out of habit.Every movement is controlled and deliberate, muscle memory from months of knowing I might have to flee with seconds’ notice.
When I straighten, the room is still exactly the same.No voices rise from the corners.No translucent figures lean against the walls with knowing smiles.No cold fingers brush my arms.The dead respect boundaries here and that thought alone sends a shiver down my spine.
I press my palm to my sternum, right over the mate bond humming quietly beneath my ribs.Grayson’s presence isn’t invasive.It doesn’t tug or demand.It just ...exists.Like a steady star I can orient myself by if I choose.
I don’t know what the fuck to do with that.
A soft knock sounds at the door and I freeze.My fight or flight instincts kick in and I’m torn in both directions.
