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“I’d like you and Maggie to be the headliners. Center of the ritual. Symbolic leaders of the new generation we’re building.”

What the fuck?

“Tomorrow night. And we’ll throw a reception the following day at the mansion for all the newly bonded couples. Huge event. Dancing, food… general merriment. You know the pack loves a good party.”

“Can’t wait,” I said, the words dry and dead in my mouth.

“Perfect.” Lucien hung up without another word.

I stared at the screen until it went black, then dropped the phone like it burned.

The weight of it all crashed down on my chest.

A bonding ceremony. In public. With a woman who didn’t even know the whole truth, who hadn’t agreed to anything more than helping me pull one over on Lucien to buy me some time, who trusted me to protect her from exactly this kind of pressure.

There was no clean way out of it now. No backing out without blowing everything apart.

I hadn’t told her what the bond meant. It was a permanent bond that would link our souls. Once it happened, there’d be no undoing it.

I hadn’t told her because I was a coward.

My breathing turned shallow. Too shallow. I tried to quiet it, not to wake her.

I looked down again. She shifted slightly, nuzzled closer, murmured something that sounded like my name. I kissed the top of her head.

“You mean too much to me to fuck this up,” I whispered again.

The dread didn’t loosen. It tightened. I had twenty-four hours to either ruin everything or change everything. And I had no idea how to do either without losing her in the process.

I stared up at the ceiling as if it could give me answers. No help came.

Maggie. Mags. My girl.

She hadn’t asked for this. She didn’t know what bonding would tie her to. She hadn’t even said she loved me. Hell, I hadn’t said it either. Not out loud. Not in the way it counted.

I wondered if anyone had ever faked their own death at a mating ceremony. Might be worth a Google.

Beside me, Maggie stirred. Her voice was groggy, but alert. “What’s going on?”

I forced a breath. “Nothing important. Just… pack political shit.”

Her fingers brushed my wrist. She always knew when something was off. Always sensed it. I couldn’t lie to her forever, but I couldn’t tell her now, not when she looked so peaceful, so soft and open and mine.

I slid out of the bed. Maggie propped herself on one elbow, brow furrowed.

“Where are you going?” she asked. “Do you want your bed to yourself? Because I can leave if this is too much, if I’m making you uncomfortable or⁠—”

Her voice cracked. I turned back, gut twisting.

“No,” I said a little too quickly. “God, no. That’s not it.” I brushed a hand over her shoulder, let it linger. She leaned into the touch like she didn’t want it to end. “I just need to run.”

Confusion flickered in her eyes.

“When my head gets too full, I shift and run through the woods behind the building. It helps me reset. Shifting’s emotional for me. It’s primal. It’s like… like shedding noise.”

She stayed quiet. Let me say it.

“It’s not you, Mags. You being here is the only thing that’s not overwhelming me right now.”