I remember how I used to look at them—all of them. I viewed them as something less, like they were obstacles and problems that needed to be dealt with. I used to see them as enemies of my family because that’s what I was taught, and for a while, what I believed.
Sitting here, listening to them argue over nothing and laugh like it doesn’t cost them anything, allows me to see the pieces I’ve been missing.
How narrow that perspective was, how controlled and shaped by someone else’s version of the truth. Between my father, Hayes, and the rest of the pack, I never had the chance to form those opinions of my own, and if given the chance, I never would’ve tried to.
I swallow quietly.
For as much as I was following orders, I had a hand in it too. I contributed to the tension and the damage caused, and now I’m sitting here, benefiting from the very people I helped my family fight against.
It doesn’t sit right with me, and I can’t ignore it anymore.
Something in the air pulls my attention up again, and my eyes lock with Zane’s.
He’s still watching me, likely longer than he should, but there’s nothing subtle about it. Rather than playing it off as something casual, he’s focused and not glancing away, as if he’stracking every reaction, every movement, every thought that crosses my face.
It should be unsettling, and while it kind of is, it isn’t in the way I expect. It doesn’t feel wrong like it would if he were anyone else.
My chest tightens slightly, and annoyance rises in me first.
Zane doesn’t know how to not be intense about something, and he keeps acting like I’m something he has to keep an eye on, just in case I disappear again the second he looks away.
But underneath exists something new and warmer. It has the capacity to be far more dangerous than I want to contend with, but I don’t know if I’ll have a say in the matter.
Adjusting slightly in my seat, I break eye contact and avoid examining any of it too closely. Not here, and not now.
Even so, the thought lingers and overstays its welcome, leaving me with thoughts I can’t turn away from.
What if this is real? Not just the bond or the situation we’ve found ourselves in, but this moment. The way they are with each other and how he fits here, far more naturally than he ever did in Wraith Peak.
There could be more of this, and more than what I’ve known my whole life. There could be so much more to experience that I was never exposed to, and something about that is both daunting and exhilarating.
My gaze drifts back to the fire and to the people around it, and for the first time, the notion doesn’t feel impossible. It’s distant and uncertain, but not completely out of reach.
I don’t know what that might look like for me, or what it would take to get there. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to want it, but the idea is there now, and it doesn’t fade. Not even when I remind myself of everything waiting for me back in Wraith Peak, or when I tell myself this isn’t where I belong.
The fire crackles, sending sparks into the night while the others continue to poke and tease. All the while, I sit there, caught somewhere between what I’ve always known and what I’m only just starting to see.
Chapter 21 - Zane
A cold, instinctive feeling moves down my spine and settles between each vertebra as I navigate through the woods, making my hackles rise. Something’s off, and that suspicion in me refuses to calm.
I’ve been tracking these scents for hours now, and I know the pattern isn’t random anymore. It’s tighter, proving that they’re being more deliberate now. They’re moving in ways that don’t line up with usual territory checks or a risky hunt.
They’re probing and testing for whatever angle they can find, and I don’t like it.
Crouching low along the northern ridge just outside Delmont, I feel as if the forest stretches wide beneath me. The air is thick with overlapping scents, some being traces of wolves that don’t belong here, and not any of the packs I recognize.
My jaw tightens, well aware of what that means. The rogues, or something close enough to it, have been through here, and from what I can tell, they still are.
I move forward with silent, controlled steps through the trees, following the trail as it dips deeper into a shallow valley. Every movement sharpens my focus, and instincts kick in harder the further I go.
They’re close. Already, I can feel and hear them as my keen senses lock in on them.
A branch snaps somewhere ahead, and I don’t hesitate.
Already shifted, I surge forward through the undergrowth, managing to take stock within seconds.
There are three of them, potentially a fourth nearby, and they don’t see me until it’s too late.
