Outsiders.Even she sees me that way.
“Yeah,” I say, pulling the shirt over my head. “I’m getting that impression.”
She steps closer, close enough that I can smell her scent—still addictive, still enough to make my pulse quicken despite the frustration building in my chest.
“Kier—”
“Don’t.” I shake my head, stepping back. “Don’t explain pack loyalty to me. I understand what I am here.”
“What you are,” she says quietly, “is the wolf who saved my life.”
“Is that all I’ll ever be?”
The question hangs between us, loaded with implications she’s not ready to examine. My truth is, I stayed for her. Not for pack loyalty or honor or any noble reason. I stayed because the thought of leaving her behind was unbearable.
But admitting that feels like handing her a weapon she could use to destroy me.
She looks so lost and confused that I take pity on her.
“I should get back to my room,” I say instead. “Thanks for the intervention with Levi.”
Disappointment flickers across her features before she masks it behind her usual cool control. “Anytime.”
I’m halfway to the den entrance when she calls my name.
“Kier.”
I turn back, hoping for… what? Some sign that I matter to her beyond gratitude for services rendered?
“Stay safe,” she says simply.
Not “stay.” Just “stay safe.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “You too.”
The rest of the day passes in a blur of restless energy. I try reading in the pack’s library, but the words swim on the page. I attempt to nap, but sleep eludes me. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that training yard, feeling like anoutsider trying to prove himself worthy of scraps of belonging.
By evening, I’m wound tight as a spring, my wolf pacing beneath my skin. The communal dinner is torture—surrounded by pack members who laugh and tease each other while I sit at the edges, included but not truly part of it.
Lithia sits at the head table with Ryker and Kitara, her posture perfect, her attention focused on pack business. She doesn’t look at me once during the entire meal.
Message received.
I escape as soon as it’s polite to do so, retreating to my guest quarters like the temporary resident I am. The room feels smaller than usual, the walls pressing in on all sides. I pace from wall to door and back again, my wolf’s agitation bleeding into every muscle and nerve.
This is ridiculous. You’re a grown man, not some lovesick pup.
But knowing that doesn’t help. The truth is, I’m falling for Lithia in ways that terrify me. Not just physical attraction—though gods know that’s intense enough—but something deeper. She challenges me, surprises me, makes me want to be better than I am.
And right now, she’s doing exactly what Dane warned me she would—retreating behind her walls, pretending what we shared never happened.
I think about her sitting at that head table tonight, keeping her attention firmly on pack business, not once looking my way. Most men might take the hint, might accept the dismissal and walk away wounded. But I’ve survived three years of torture for a reason. Persistence isn’t just my nature—it’s how I stayed alive.
She can try to ignore me all she wants,I think with a grim smile.I’ve outlasted professional torturers. I can outlast her stubborn denial.
The next time I catch her glancing my way—and she will, I’ve seen how she can’t help herself—I’ll be ready. A wink, asmile, a subtle reminder that I see her game and I’m not going anywhere.
Let her build her walls. I’ve got nothing but time and determination to climb them.
