“I’ve got you.”
Three words. Simple, direct, and unshakeable. The kind of certainty he’d spent twenty years providing for others but had never expected to receive in return. Through the mate bond, he felt her fear but it was buried beneath layers of determination and protective instinct that made his chest tighten with something deeper than gratitude.
“My truck,” he managed. Blood loss and exhaustion made the world tilt sideways, but her presence anchored him, kept him upright when pride alone would have failed.
“Keys?”
He fumbled for his tattered jeans on the ground, his fingers clumsy with shock, until she gently took over the task. Her movements were efficient and calm, as if helping wounded Alphas was somehow programmed in her DNA.
The pack members who’d witnessed the challenge melted away into shadow, their Alpha’s vulnerability too intimate to observe. Good. He didn’t need an audience for this particular moment of weakness.
“My cabin’s closer,” he said as she helped him into the passenger seat, his usual need for control surrendering to the simple reality that she was steadier than him right now.
She nodded once then headed around to the driver’s side, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot with the kind of smooth competence that told him she’d processed the evening’s violence and reached her own conclusions about what needed doing next.
Blood soaked into the leather seat beneath him, but Rune barely noticed. Instead, he watched her hands on the steering wheel—sure and steady, no tremor betraying the magnitude of what she’d just witnessed. Most humans would be in shock after seeing their mate nearly killed in ritual combat. Electra was already planning his recovery.
Unafraid of the consequences of loving an Alpha.
The realization hit him hard. She wasn’t just accepting his nature—she was embracing it, meeting him with her own quiet strength.
Ten minutes later, his cabin’s porch light cut through the mountain darkness. She parked close to the front steps, killed the engine, and was out of the driver’s seat before he could protest that he didn’t need help walking.
Except he did. His legs shook with every step, and the wounds across his ribs sent fresh waves of agony through his torso. But Electra was there again, her arm around his waist, guiding him through his own front door with the kind of gentle authority that made him want to surrender completely.
She settled him on the leather couch with careful precision, then disappeared into the kitchen without fanfare. He heard cabinet doors opening, water running, the efficient sounds of someone who knew exactly what needed doing.
When she returned with supplies, her expression was focused but calm. No hysteria. No demands for explanations. Just steady competence as she knelt beside the couch and began cleaning his wounds with gentle, practiced movements.
“You’ve done this before,” he observed, watching her work with something approaching awe.
“No. Just research.” Her smile was quick and wry. “Turns out all those wounded Alpha scenes I’ve written actually taught me something useful.”
The antiseptic burned like hellfire, but her touch was so careful, so reverent, that he found himself relaxing despite the pain. Through the bond, he felt her processing everything—the violence, the cost, the terrifying reality of what it meant to be chosen by an Alpha who would burn the world before surrendering her.
“I fought for us,” he said quietly as she worked. “For our future.”
Her hands stilled for just a moment. “I know,” she said simply.
SEVENTEEN
ELECTRA
Electra’s fingers moved with precision as she secured the last bandage across Rune’s shoulder, the white gauze stark against his bronzed skin. The antiseptic’s sharp bite mingled with his familiar scent and the metallic tang of blood created an unsettling cocktail that would forever mark this moment in her memory.
Her hands remained steady, but her chest felt tight with the echo of terror that had gripped her in the parking lot. Watching him shift, seeing his massive wolf form collide with Birch’s in a symphony of violence and dominance, had fractured something fundamental inside her. Split her existence into a clean before and after, like a bone breaking under too much pressure.
Before, she’d believed in restraint and timing. Before, she’d convinced herself that powerful men didn’t fight for women like her—that Alphas certainly didn’t risk everything for a human with trust issues and a stubborn streak.
After watching Rune lose all that legendary control for her sake, some truths couldn’t wait to be named.
She set the medical supplies aside with careful movements, hyperaware of how his steel-gray eyes tracked her every gesture and every expression. The mate bond hummed louder betweenthem, almost impatient—as if recognizing that its completion hovered just within reach.
“You could have died tonight.” The words spilled out raw and unpolished, more confession than conversation. “While you were fighting, all I could think about was how lost I’d be if you didn’t survive. How empty this world would feel without you in it.”
Rune listened without interrupting, his stillness more intense than movement. The way he watched her reminded her of his wolf—alert, focused, completely present in the moment.
“I’ve spent my entire adult life avoiding this feeling,” she continued, her voice gaining strength. “This... dependency. This need for another person that goes beyond want or attraction. I told myself I was protecting my independence, my career, my heart. But tonight, when Birch challenged you, I realized I was just protecting myself from the truth.”
