The worry in her voice catches me off guard. It’s been so long since anyone cared about my safety that I’m not quite sure how to respond.
“Always am,” I say finally, focusing on restocking the fire. “You should eat again. Keep your strength up.”
She accepts the change of subject without comment, allowing me to prepare another simple meal from our limited stores. As she eats, we discuss the area, the mountains, the best route to Shadowmist territory once she’s healed enough to travel.
In the light of the flashlight, we pour over rough maps I found in a drawer, trying to triangulate our position and work out the best possible paths and potential dangers. The planning feels good—concrete, practical, something to focus on besides the pain and uncertainty.
“You know this area well?”
I shrug. “Not overly, but I’ve tracked through most of the northern territories at some point or another. Goes with the job.”
“And what exactly is that job?”
“I find stuff that’s been lost. Items, information, people. Sometimes those things go missing by choice, sometimes not.”
“Like Adelaide.”
The girl’s name sends a pang through my chest. “Like Adelaide.”
She changes the subject, asking about my tracking methods, my life as a nomad, how I find clients.
I answer, grateful for the shift to less painful territory. As we talk, I find myself revealing more than I usually would—small details about my travels, the places I’ve seen, the strange jobs I’ve taken on over the years.
In return, she tells me about Shadowmist. About Ryker and his mate, Kitara. About her brother Dane and her friendship group. About the structure and strength of the pack, their territory, their allies.
There’s something in her voice when she talks about Ryker and Kitara—a softness, but also a deep sadness that makes my chest ache.
“They sound like they had something special,” I say carefully, noting her use of past tense.
“They did.” Her voice catches slightly, and when she speaks again, there’s a wistfulness mixed with grief that she probably doesn’t realize she’s revealing. “True mates. Their bond made them stronger, not weaker. When one hurt, the other felt it. When one fought, the other stood beside them. They were… complete together. Our pack could feel it.”
The longing she’s trying to hide bleeds through her careful words, mixed with the pain of loss. She wants what they had—that bone-deep connection, that certainty. But she also believes it’s gone forever, destroyed by whatever happened to Kitara.
She wants it. She’s just afraid to reach for it and convinced she’s already lost her chance to see it again.
“That kind of bond…” I say quietly, “it must be devastating when it’s broken.”
Her jaw tightens, and I see her fighting back emotion. “Ryker will never be the same. When your true mate dies…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but the implication hangs heavy between us.
That’s why she’s so afraid,I realize.She knows what losing love can do.
“And you?” I ask eventually, the words scraping my throat raw. “No mate? No partner waiting for you to return?”
Say no.
My wolf paces beneath my skin, ears flattened, ready to tear apart anyone who might have a claim on her. The thought of another man touching her, holding her, makes my vision edge with red. I grip my hands into fists, nails biting into my palms as I wait for her answer.
A shadow crosses her face. “No. I mean… there was someone who I thought might but…” She shakes her head. “No, it’s better to not do that.”
Someone.
The knowledge there was once another hits like a physical blow. My chest tightens, jealousy flooding my system with toxic heat.
What wolf thought they could touch her when she’s mine?
“Do what?” I ask instead of reaching over to claim her with a bite.
“Form attachments.” She looks away. “They’re a liability in my position.”
