He furrows his brow and asks, “You are?”
“I don’t know what happens after all this. I don’t know if this is love yet, or if it ever will be. There’s still so much we haven’t figured out, so much that could go wrong between us. But I know that I don’t regret this. I don’t regret you.”
Patrick lowers his forehead to mine. “I’ll spend every day proving you made the right choice.”
He kisses me softly, sweetly, a contrast to the ferocity of our lovemaking. I sink into the feeling and let it fill all the hollow places inside me, all the spaces where fear and doubt have taken up residence.
We lie tangled together as his knot slowly softens while the mission looms in my mind. In just a couple of days, he’ll walk into enemy territory. After that, everything could change. There’s still the chance he could choose his brother at the end of all this.
But right now, in this moment, he’s mine. And I’m his.
Surviving the rescue mission just became the most important thing in the world.
Chapter 22 - Patrick
I wake with Caelan’s scent wrapped around me and her body nuzzled against my side, and for one perfect moment, I let myself pretend that nothing exists beyond this room.
Her breathing is slow and even, and her face is slack with the kind of deep sleep that only comes from exhaustion. The mark I left on her neck has already started to bruise, with purple and red blooming across her skin like a brand. My wolf preens at the sight of it. Mine. She’s mine, and everyone who sees that mark will know it.
But the satisfaction curdles within seconds, because the day is coming that I might very well lose her.
Not to another male. Not to her family’s disapproval or the political complications of our bond. To my own weakness. Because somewhere out there, my little brother is conspiring with the enemy, and I don’t know if I can do what needs to be done if he gets in my way.
I slip out of bed without waking her and pull on clothes that smell like her, like us. The meeting starts in an hour, which means I have sixty minutes to figure out how I’m supposed to choose between the woman I’ve claimed and the brother I’ve protected since he was eight years old.
The walk to the pack hall feels longer than it should. Every step gives me more time to think, and thinking is the last thing I need right now. My mind keeps circling back to Jonas, to the way he used to follow me around camp when he was little because I was the only one who didn’t treat him like a burden. Our mother had already checked out by then; she was lost in her new marriage and her desperate attempts to climb Thornridge’s hierarchy. Jonas only had me.
And I left him.
I told myself it was temporary. I told myself it was just one night at a bar where I was a stranger, so I could clear my head. But then I met Caelan, and everything changed. My priorities rearranged themselves around her without my permission, and suddenly, my brother became secondary to a woman I’ve known for less than two weeks.
What kind of person does that make me?
The morning is cold, and I shove my hands into my pockets as I walk. A few Grayhide wolves pass me on the path, and their reactions range from curious to outright hostile. I don’t blame them. If our positions were reversed, I wouldn’t trust me, either. The only reason I’m allowed to walk freely through this territory is that Ash verified my intentions, and even that verification comes with an asterisk. She confirmed I want to protect Caelan, but she also admitted she can’t predict what I’ll do when tested.
Neither can I.
That’s what terrifies me most. I’ve spent my whole life being the reliable one, the soldier who follows orders without question because questioning gets you killed. I learned to compartmentalize my doubts and my conscience and my moral objections into neat little boxes that I only opened when I was alone. It’s how I survived sixteen years in a pack that rewarded cruelty and punished compassion.
But boxes have a way of breaking open at the worst possible moments.
The pack hall is dead ahead, and I force myself to straighten my spine and school my expression into something resembling neutral. These wolves are already looking for reasonsnot to trust me. I can’t give them ammunition by walking in like a man who is being torn apart by guilt.
The war room smells like stale coffee and fear when I push through the doors.
I position myself at the edge of the massive table that’s covered in maps as I watch the representatives from three packs argue about the best way to rescue people who might already be dead.
Oren Blacklock anchors one end of the table with his mate Ash beside him, while Dorian Fields and his wife Kira occupy the other. Wyn and Reeyan flank me like they’re not entirely sure I won’t bolt, and I can’t blame them for the suspicion. Not so long ago, I was the enemy. The fact that they’re letting me anywhere near planning speaks more to their desperation than their trust.
“The scouts just reported in.” Aidan strides through the door with a comm device in his hand and a deep-set scowl. “Thornridge is mobilizing. They’re moving the prisoners east toward the main encampment.”
My stomach drops. “How far out?”
“Six hours, maybe less. They’re not wasting time.”
Dorian swears under his breath. “If they get those prisoners behind Thornridge’s main defensive line, we’ll never get them out. We’ve never successfully breached that territory.”
“Then we don’t let them get that far.” I step forward and plant my hands on the table. “I know that camp better than anyone in this room. I lived there for sixteen years.”
