I lie there for a moment, staring at the low ceiling of my cabin, listening to the pack breathe around me.The bond hums steadily, warmer than it was yesterday, threaded now with something tentative and sharp-edged.
Fear.Not of me or the pack but of what we offer.I saw her yesterday, the way she measured everyone and the words spoken, the mistrust of everything.
I roll onto my side and exhale slowly.There’s no urgency in the pack this morning, no alarms, no scent of danger, but my instincts are wide awake.But these are my mate instincts, not the regular fighter ones.These are the kind of instincts that pay attention to emotional shifts, not threats.
She’s standing at a crossroads.
I pull on a shirt and shorts and step outside.The air is cool, the sky just beginning to lighten at the edges.A few wolves are already up, Calum moving toward the training ring, Talon stretching near the armory, and Max perched on a log with a mug of coffee like he hasn’t slept at all.
They all glance at me.They all feel it too.But I don’t acknowledge it.I just take off on my morning run, pushing myself harder than usual to drown out the need to find and claim my mate.I am giving her space and letting her decide how we proceed but that doesn’t mean any of this is easy.My wolf howls in the back of my mind, fighting to get out and go to her.Arousal thrums through my veins at the mere thought of her.But I need to remain patient and not push her too hard because somehow I know if I do, I will send her running.
I’m barely back at the compound when Trinity walks up to the old fence line, and braces her hands on the wooden rail, staring out into the forest.Her shoulders are tense, her scent a tangled mess of restraint and longing.
I stop a few feet away, giving her space.
“Peyton said you might want to train today,” I say.
She startles anyway, then relaxes when she realizes it’s me.“I do.”
“Good.”I pause.“You don’t have to prove anything.You know that, right?”
“I know.”She glances at me.“But I want to.”
My mouth curves in a small smile.“Figured.”
“I keep waiting for this to end.The quiet.The kindness.”
Silence envelopes us again, not strained, just calm.Her words pull at something inside me, and I lean against the fence beside her, careful not to crowd.“It won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”Her voice is tinged with sadness that makes me want to burn the world to ash just to make sure I never have to hear that sound again.
“I know this pack,” I correct.“And I know the bond.”
That gets her attention.She turns, eyes sharp.“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t use the bond like a promise you can’t keep.”
The bond tightens at her words, not in protest, but in agreement.She’s not wrong to be cautious.
“I won’t,” I say quietly.“But I won’t pretend it isn’t there either.”
Her throat works as she swallows.“That’s the problem.”
I watch her carefully now, the way her fingers dig into the wood, the way her wolf pushes close to the surface without fully emerging.
“Trinity,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady.“You don’t owe me anything.Not your trust.Not your affection.Not your body.”Her breath stutters.“But,” I continue, “if you want me, if you want us, I won’t turn you away.”
She laughs softly, bitter and raw.“You make it sound simple.”
“It’s not,” I admit.“But it doesn’t have to be painful either.”
She closes her eyes, forehead dropping to the rail.The bond surges, not demanding, just present, reminding us both of what’s possible.
“I’ve never had anyone choose me knowing I was wrong,” she whispers.
I turn fully toward her.“You’re not wrong.”
