He stepped out first, scanning automatically for threats, then moved around to open Electra’s door. Not because she needed the help, but because he wanted the pack to see the choice. See that she stood with him as an equal, not behind him as a possession.
“Ready?” he murmured, offering his hand.
Her fingers slipped into his, warm and steady. “Ready.”
The looks followed them inside—curiosity, calculation, unease. No one spoke. No one would dare challenge him directly, not with the way dominance coiled around him tonight, unmistakable and absolute. But he felt Electra’s awareness sharpen through the bond as she realized she was being read, judged, weighed against some invisible standard.
Instead of shrinking under the scrutiny, she lifted her chin and matched their stares with calm confidence. Pride surged through him so fiercely it nearly stole his breath. This was his mate—unafraid, unbowed, meeting the pack’s assessment with quiet strength.
He kept his hand on her back as they moved toward a booth, grounding her without crowding. Some of the pack members’ expressions shifted as they watched her carry herself, recognition flickering in their eyes. They saw what he saw—a woman who didn’t need protection but deserved it anyway.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Millie appeared beside their booth, coffee pot in hand and flour dusting her apron. Her eyes were sharp and knowing as they flicked between Rune and Electra. “About time, Sheriff.”
“Millie, this is Electra.”
“Oh, we know each other already.” Millie poured their coffee without asking.
“That’s right.” Electra’s smile was genuine and warm. “Her cooking is next to none, and her advice is always spot-on.”
“Smart girl.” Millie’s approval was immediate and obvious. She turned to Rune, her expression softening. “You know, your mother would have loved seeing you like this.”
Her words hit harder than expected. Grief rolled through him in a sudden, devastating wave—not the manageable ache he’d learned to carry, but a sharp, fresh agony. His mother had died before he could prove he’d learned balance, restraint, and mercy. Before he could find a mate worthy of standing beside him as Luna. Before she could see that her son had finally chosen love over duty.
He forced his expression to remain steady, but Electra felt it instantly through the bond. Her hand slid over his, anchoring him as the pain crested and slowly ebbed.
She didn’t speak. Didn’t ask questions or offer empty platitudes. She just held him there, present and solid and real, until the worst of it passed. This was what partnership actually meant. Not grand gestures or dramatic declarations, but simple presence when it mattered most.
The diner door slammed open with enough force to rattle the windows, and every conversation died mid-sentence. Cold mountain air rushed in, carrying the scent of pine and something darker—predatory intent wrapped in territorial fury. Rune’s wolf recognized the threat before his mind processed it, power surging beneath his skin like electricity seeking ground.
Birch Fen stepped through the doorway like he owned the place, his ice-blue eyes scanning the room with calculated precision before locking onto their booth. His tactical clothing was pristine, his scarred face set in lines of righteous indignation, and every step carried the weight of an Alpha who’d come to collect what he believed was owed.
Here we go.
Birch didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pause to order coffee or acknowledge Millie hovering near the kitchen. He walkedstraight toward their booth with the focused intent of a missile seeking its target, his gaze never leaving Electra’s face.
Wrong move.
“Rune.” Birch’s voice carried across the suddenly silent diner, pitched to ensure every wolf in the room heard every word. “Fancy seeing you here. With your... guest.”
The way he said ‘guest’ made Rune’s jaw lock so hard his teeth ached. Through their bond, he felt Electra’s confusion shift to wariness as she picked up on the undercurrents she couldn’t fully understand.
“Birch.” Rune’s tone could have frozen the coffee in their cups. “Enjoying your evening?”
“I was, until I heard some interesting rumors.” Birch stopped beside their table, close enough that his dominance pressed against Rune’s like opposing magnetic fields. “Rumors about our respected Sheriff parading around town with his new... hobby.”
“Careful,” Rune said quietly, his voice carrying the kind of lethal calm that made lesser wolves back down. “Choose your next words very carefully.”
But Birch had come here for exactly this confrontation. His lips curved up in a smile that held no humor, only the satisfaction of a trap springing shut.
“The whole region is talking now, you know. About how great Alpha Hale has lost his mind over a human. How he’s so blinded by lust that he’s forgotten every law and every tradition that keeps our kind strong.” Birch’s voice rose, ensuring his words carried to every corner of the diner. “Tell me, Rune—when you’re done playing house with your little pet, what happens to pack law? What happens to the balance we’ve maintained for generations?”
The words hit like physical blows, each one designed to cut deep. Rune felt his control fracturing, the wolf clawing closer to the surface with every syllable. Around them, the pack membersshifted uncomfortably, caught between their loyalty to their Alpha and the uncomfortable truth in Birch’s accusations.
“She’s not my pet,” Rune said, each word precise and deadly. “And you have no authority to question my choices.”
“Don’t I?” Birch leaned closer, his scent aggressive and challenging. “When your choices threaten every wolf in this territory? When you’re so busy protecting your human toy that you’ve forgotten what real leadership looks like?”
Something inside Rune snapped with the clean precision of a bone breaking. He stood slowly. The movement was controlled and deliberate, but power rolled off him in waves that made every wolf in the diner cower.
