But everything feels wrong.
I should feel triumphant, relieved that I found Willow, that I bought her freedom, that I can finally protect her the way I couldn’t before. But instead, all I feel is confusion and a gnawing sense of failure.
Because even after years of training, of leadership, of learning to command wolves who would die for me…I still can’t reach Willow Barker.
My gaze drifts to the hallway. Her door is closed, the faint sliver of light from inside the room spilling onto the wooden floor in the hallway. She hasn’t tried to run again, and part of me is grateful for that. The other part knows it’s only because she’s too exhausted to try, like there's no fight left in her.
I take another slow sip with the cigarette in one hand, eyes still on that door.
Rissa said Willow’s powers would awaken when we mate. That she’s the fourth witch, the key to ending this curse before the demons rise again.
But what if fate got it wrong?
What if I’m not meant to save her, but destroy her—like I did five years ago when I crushed whatever trust she had in me?
That's what it feels like now, and it's why Willow is pushing me away. She's afraid of being destroyed a second time, and somehow, I'm worried that I might do it again, too.
The whiskey burns deeper now, settling in my chest like a slow fire. I set the glass down and drag a hand over my face, my thoughts circling back to that moment—her eyes wide, her voice trembling, her words cutting through me like a blade.
“You rejected me…”
She’s right. I did.
I told myself it was for the pack, for my future as sub-alpha, for the rules I’d been born to follow. How was I supposed to be seen with a wolfless omega?
But the truth is simpler.
I was a coward.
The clock ticks again, and somewhere down the hall, the floor creaks. My head snaps up.
Then I hear it—soft murmuring, faint but distinct.
Willow.
Her voice carries through the quiet, broken and vulnerable, like she’s whispering to someone who isn’t there. The sound sends a chill through me. I take a cautious step toward her room, then another, until I’m close enough to hear the words more clearly—but they’re fragmented, slurred, caught between dream and waking.
Her voice trembles. “No…stop…I didn’t mean to….”
Something twists inside me. I press a hand against the door, resisting the urge to go in. She’s dreaming—maybe reliving whatever hell she went through in Blood Claw.
I should leave her be.
But I can’t move, my inner wolf yelping, crying out to go in there and comfort her.
I stay outside, listening, until her voice quiets, the silence returning heavier than before. Only then do I pull back, my palm leaving a faint print on the door.
Back in the kitchen, I refill my glass and stare into the whiskey, my reflection swimming on its surface. Staring at that reflection now, I inwardly tell myself I’m just making sure she’s safe. That’s all.
But deep down, I know it’s a lie.
Because for the first time in five years, I don’t just want to protect Willow Barker.
I want to understand her.
And that's what sends me back toward her bedroom.
Chapter 8 - Willow
