He looks skeptical, like he wants to argue about it, but again seems too exhausted to bother. He just nods once and begins stripping off his armor.
He pulls off his shirt with one hand, and I watch the muscles of his back shift beneath his skin. Usually I’d flush at the sight of Fox with his shirt off, but tonight all I see is exhaustion and grief in the rigid set of his shoulders.
I take a half-step forward, then stop. My fingers twitch at my sides. I’m tempted to wrap my arms around his waist and press my face to his spine. He looks like he needs it.
But then what? What if he stiffened further at my touch? Or worse—what if he didn’t? What if he turned and pulled me against him, and I had to face how badly I wanted that comfort too?
We don’t have that kind of relationship. It’s not my job to comfort Fox, and I doubt he would want me to, anyway. Still, I linger by the tent flap for three more heartbeats before slipping outside, leaving him to his grief.
Isit up in the darkness, instantly alert, my heart hammering against my ribs.
For a moment I don’t know where I am. I blink in confusion, unsure if this is Dyaspora or the camp, the barracks or the ground somewhere in the Thermian woods. Something moves in the corner of my eye and my gaze immediately flicks to it, all my muscles tensing.
There’s a small red squirrel climbing up one of the wooden tent supports. It freezes, and turns its black eyes on me, swishing its tale angrily.
A strange mixture of relief and exasperation washes over me. It’s Aurelia’s absurd pet, which means I’m at the camp.
As soon as that thought solidifies, a second wave of confusion hits me. If that’s Aurelia’s squirrel, where is Aurelia?
I turn to check her side of the bed, already knowing she’s not here. I wake up like this almost every night, startled awake by some dream I can’t remember, but lately Aurelia’s presence has made things more clear. As soon as I see her I know exactly where I am. Except now, when she’s inexplicably missing.
I press the heels of my hands into my eyes for a second, then stand up and look around. I don’t know what time it is, except that it’s dark in the tent. Perhaps it’s not that late and Aurelia went to dinner?
It was midafternoon when I returned from the hunt, and I’d been so exhausted I could barely think. What should have been a simple hunting trip lasting one night at most had turned into a harrowing ordeal, where Viktor demanded we march across half the kingdom in search of one single wyvern. We never found the damn wyvern, but wander directly into a giant’s camp. Giants are like trolls, but much bigger and unfortunately much smarter. There were three of them and six of us, but we still barely escaped and lost one of our men, Joran, in the process.
I also discovered at least half the reason that Viktor isn’t the alpha has to be because he’s a fucking idiot. He spent the entire time barking contradictory orders at everyone until I had to physically hold myself back from taking control out of sheer frustration. I don’t want to be the alpha-—I don’t want to stay in Thermia at all—but the instinct to fight Viktor for the right to disregard his terrible orders was almost enough to make me challenge for alpha.
When we finally got back, everyone was miserable. We barely slept for three nights and I felt almost drunk with exhaustion. I was confused enough when Aurelia ran up to me, that for a second I thought she was really that relieved to see me. It wasn’t until we were halfway back to the tent that I remembered she was probably just playing the role of “mate” for the watching wolves. Then, I couldn’t stop thinking about why she might havea reason to play things up. Had something happened while I was gone? Did someone say something to her?
I’d already spent every moment of the last three days that I wasn’t literally fighting for my life fighting a losing battle not to think about Aurelia.
What if someone hurt her while I was gone? What if something horrible happened, and it’s my fault because I can’t stop thinking about her?
Abruptly, a sound like wind chimes cuts through the night air—My spine straightens before my brain even registers why, and I turn toward the tent entrance.
Somewhere outside, Aurelia is laughing. It’s unmistakably her laughter, but it’s accompanied by a chorus of other voices—something unheard of in a camp that normally communicates in silence.
My trousers are already on, button undone and fabric hanging low on my hips. I stand and shove my feet into my boots without tightening the laces and don’t bother with a shirt before stalking outside.
It doesn’t take me long to find her. I’ve only walked halfway down the row of tents when the bonfire comes into view up ahead. There are a group of seven or eight wolves gathered around the fire, all talking loudly and drinking. It must be late, well after dinner.
I’m not surprised there are wolves awake and drinking at this hour—that always happens when there are deaths. No one wants to talk about how bleak it sometimes is to live like this, so a party often breaks out. That’s not strange. What’s strange is they’re talking out loud.
My eyes snap to Aurelia. She’s sitting on a log, her hands move animatedly as she speaks, and all the wolves are responding out loud—for her benefit, I realize. On her left sits a red-headed woman I vaguely recognize and on her other side isa tall blonde man, whose face is turned away from me as he talks to her.
Instantly, a rush of fury surges through me. Who the fuck is that sitting so close tomymate?
The man says something to Aurelia, and she laughs. My vision blurs at the edges, and I zero in on the back of the man’s head as I stalk into camp, my breath coming in hard puffs of frustration.
A couple of the nearest wolves glance up as I approach and tilt their heads, baring their necks. Their instinct is to submit to an angry alpha, whether they consciously want to or not. Usually I would try to reign myself in, back off so as not to fall into a leadership position that I have absolutely no interest in. Right now, though, I’m satisfied as they scramble to avert their gazes, their sudden fascination with the ground, the fire, their drinks—anywhere but Aurelia—only stoking the inferno building in my chest.
I can’t think about anything else except tearing the asshole next to Aurelia limb from fucking limb. My mark is branded on her neck like a warning—a claim staked in flesh. She’smine. Every wolf here should know better than to even breathe her air.
Walking around the edge of the fire until I’m standing directly behind Aurelia, my shadow falling across her back. She doesn’t notice me immediately, but everyone else does. The blonde man visibly tenses at the feeling of my eyes on his back, and glances over his shoulder.
I blanch when Luka grins at me. “Hey, Brother.”
My mind races, rapidly trying to adapt to this new information. Luka is my friend, and more importantly, I introduced him to Aurelia myself which means he’s safe to be around her. He might even be sitting there specifically so that no one else does. I know all this, so why am I still barely able to restrain myself from strangling him?
