"And if she doesn't leave? If she keeps pushing into our territory, keeps documenting things she shouldn't see?" Hesteps closer, voice dropping. "What happens when she finds something she can't explain away? When she sees one of us shift?"
"I'll deal with it."
"How?"
"I don't know." The admission costs me. "But I'm not claiming a woman who doesn't know what she's agreeing to. I'm not binding her to this pack while there's a killer among us. And I'm not giving Gideon the satisfaction of watching me make a desperate move."
Ciaran’s eyes linger on me, something shifting in his expression. "You actually care about her. Already."
"She's my mate."
"That's not what I mean." He shakes his head slowly. "I've seen wolves claim fated mates within hours of first scent. It's instinct—primal, non-negotiable. But you're fighting it. For her sake."
"Someone has to."
"Most Alphas wouldn't."
"I'm not most Alphas."
He's quiet for a moment, then nods. "No. You're not." He moves toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. "For what it's worth, I think you're wrong. Claiming her would solve more problems than it creates. But I understand why you won't."
"Do you?"
"You're trying to give her a choice." He pulls the door open. "Even if it costs you everything."
I don't answer. Just turn back to the window and watch the tree line darken as the sun slips below the ridge.
Her scent is still on my skin. Still burning through my bloodstream like wildfire.
My brain tells me to go back, but my feet refuse to answer. To find her cabin, break down the door, and make her understand what she is to me.
But I don't move.
Because Ciaran is right. I'm trying to give her a choice.
Even if my wolf never forgives me for it.
The council reconvenes at dusk.
The stone clearing is colder now, shadows stretching long between the ancient slabs. Torches flicker at the perimeter, casting uneven light across the gathered elders. Moving to the center of the circle, I wait for the inevitable.
Gideon doesn't disappoint.
"We have a problem." He steps forward, firelight catching the silver in his hair. "A human crossed our boundary this morning. State wildlife biologist, here to investigate the attacks."
Murmurs ripple through the circle. Brynn taps her staff against stone, silencing them.
"We knew investigators would come eventually," she says. "It was only a matter of time after three bodies."
"Knowing and allowing are different things." Gideon turns to face me. "She walked past our boundary markers. Documented tracks. Took photographs. And according to patrol, our Alpha had a personal conversation with her—then let her continue deeper into territory."
Every eye in the clearing shifts to me.
"I warned her off," I say. "She refused to leave."
"And you didn't remove her?" Lydia Townsend steps forward, red hair catching the torchlight. "A human with cameras and recording equipment, walking through our land, and you just—what? Asked nicely?"
"I couldn't remove her without creating a bigger problem. She's a state employee. If she disappears, more will come. Federal investigators, search parties, media attention." My words are firm and steady. "We contain this by letting her finish and leave, not by giving authorities a reason to dig deeper."
