The worn hardwood floor of Rune’s cabin bore the evidence of his restless energy—a path carved by hours of relentless pacing between the stone fireplace and the kitchen counter. His black henley clung to shoulders rigid with tension, sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms corded with muscle and frustration. Dark jeans hung loose on his frame, but nothing about his posture suggested relaxation.
Control is everything. Control keeps the pack safe. Control keeps me from making mistakes.
The mantra that had anchored him for twenty years felt as substantial as smoke tonight. Every time he tried to focus on pack reports, budget reviews, or the quarterly crime statistics gathering dust on his kitchen table, his mind betrayed him. Green eyes. The scent of wildflowers and something uniquelyher. The way her pulse had fluttered against her throat when he’d leaned close to examine her license.
Electra Calloway.
Even her name felt dangerous on his tongue.
He ran his hand through his hair, the dark strands falling immediately back across his forehead. Twenty years ofdisciplined leadership, and one woman—onehumanwoman—had turned his world upside down in the span of a handshake.
The irony wasn’t lost on him that fate would deliver his mate on this particular day. Twenty years ago, his mother had been torn from him by violence. Today, the universe had placed his future directly in his path, wrapped in curves and competence and completely unaware of the supernatural world she’d stumbled into.
Mom is probably laughing and winking at him at the timing.
His wolf paced restlessly, every primal instinct screaming to return to that cabin, to ensure his mate’s safety, and to claim what belonged to him. The territorial imperative burned through his veins like liquid fire, demanding action, protection, and possession.
She’s alone out there. In disputed territory. Vulnerable.
He forced his feet to stillness, gripping the back of his leather armchair until his knuckles went white. This was exactly the kind of emotional reaction that led to poor decisions. The kind of weakness that got people killed.
Focus. Think like an Alpha, not a lovesick teenager.
But the mate bond had other ideas. It pulled at him with invisible chains, tugging him toward the forest, toward her. Every minute that passed without checking on her safety felt like a personal failure.
A sharp knock at the door cut through his spiral of frustration. Rune’s head snapped up, his wolf senses immediately identifying the familiar scent beyond the threshold.
“It’s open,” he called, his voice rougher than intended.
Forrest stepped inside, his blue eyes immediately cataloging Rune’s disheveled state with the practiced ease of someone who’d known him since childhood. His Beta moved with thecasual confidence that came from years of friendship, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it with crossed arms.
“You look like hell,” Forrest observed, his dark eyebrows raised. “Rough anniversary today?”
His question hung in the air between them. Forrest had been there to comfort him the day Rune’s mother died, and had seen Rune at his absolute lowest. Every year since, his Beta had quietly ensured Rune wasn’t alone on this date, offering support without making it feel like pity.
“Not entirely,” Rune admitted, resuming his pacing.
“Care to elaborate? Because you left work three hours early without explanation, and that’s not exactly your style.”
Rune’s jaw tightened. He’d never abandoned his post before, never let personal matters interfere with duty. But sitting in that office, trying to focus on paperwork while his mate settled into her new home alone, had been impossible.
“I ran into the new cabin owner today,” he said carefully.
“I heard someone finally bought that property. Who is it?” Forrest’s tone sharpened with interest.
“Some famous human writer. Says she’s here for a year to write her book.” Rune stopped pacing, turning to face his Beta. “She’s living in disputed territory, Forrest. Right on the border between our land and Birch’s.”
Understanding flickered in Forrest’s blue eyes. The Fen Pack had been pushing for control of that particular stretch of forest for three years, claiming historical rights that predated current territorial agreements. It was a powder keg waiting for a spark.
“That’s... unfortunate timing,” Forrest said slowly. “Birch has been looking for any excuse to escalate tensions. A human in the middle of it complicates things.”
“It gets more complicated.” Rune’s voice dropped to barely a whisper, the words feeling like a confession. “She’s not just any human, Forrest.”
His Beta straightened, tension radiating through his frame. “Rune?—“
“She’s my fated mate.”
Forrest’s mouth opened, then closed, his quick wit apparently deserting him for the first time in years.
