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As a wolf, everything slowed down. One stream of input at a time. The scent of the eucalyptus bark. The brittle frost against my nose. The faint scurry of something small underground.

That was enough. That was all there was. Not Lucien. Not bonding ceremonies I hadn’t agreed to and couldn’t escape.

Just this. Just me.

I closed my eyes, pressed my nose into the dirt, and let the world go quiet. I could’ve stayed like that forever. Still. Unmoving. Tucked into the silence like a secret no one would ever find. But I couldn’t live as a wolf. Not when Maggie was sleeping in my bed, trusting me with pieces of herself I hadn’t earned.

I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to look her in the eye and admit everything—the feelings I’d been hiding, what Lucien had required, what bonding really meant. How I’d run out of time to come up with an exit plan.

But what if she left? What if she looked at me and didn’t see a partner, but a liar? What if I told her the truth and lost her before I even got the chance to love her out loud?

My claws dug into the ground.

She deserved a choice. She had to know what she was walking into. And I’d rather her walk away freely than stay because she didn’t understand the consequences.

The thought of her choosing someone else made my chest burn. But forcing a bond, rushing it because Lucien wanted a fucking photo op?

No. I wouldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t.

I opened my eyes. I was calmer now. Grounded. The dirt. The cold. My heartbeat had finally taken on a steady rhythm instead of slamming against my ribs like a warning bell.

Maybe I’d stay like this a little longer. Maybe it was the only way to keep from falling apart before I told her the truth.

Tomorrow was coming whether I wanted it or not. And I still didn’t know how to say the words that might shatter everything.

But I had to try.

Because I loved her.

And no part of me ever wanted to love her with a lie.

The ward-strength tracker hummed in my hand, its pale-blue readout hovering just above baseline. This was my first time having to use it. Thankfully, we had a large enough pack that I only occasionally had to do patrols.

I’d been making slow loops around the property since before sunrise, boots crunching over the frost-stiff grass, the sky a dull gray that promised a clear day if you were patient enough to wait for it.

The readings were steady, nothing special.

Then I caught the faintest hint of flowers and warm skin on the breeze.

I turned, and there she was. Maggie. Top knot messy like she hadn’t even looked in a mirror, oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, the hem brushing her thighs over leggings. And underneath it all… she still smelled like me from last night. My mouth went dry.

She lifted a paper bag in greeting, the corners of her lips curving. “Figured you could use breakfast.”

My chest tightened. Not in that pack-duty way. In the other way. The dangerous one.

I glanced at the tracker. The numbers spiked. Jumped. A clean, bright surge in the readout, like the ley lines had just gotten a shot of pure adrenaline. I blinked, tapped the side of the device, checked again. Still high.

“Ran into the other guy on patrol,” she said, coming closer, voice casual. “The one who talks like he’s narrating a history podcast? He pointed me this way.”

“Tyson,” I said absently, watching the numbers hold steady as she closed the space between us.

When she reached me, she handed over the bag, and the smell of fresh bread and coffee joined the scent of her, dizzying and warm. The tracker pulsed brighter. My pulse matched it.

“You didn’t have to—” I started, but she shook her head.

“I wanted to.”

The words landed low in my chest, unknotting something inside me. Just like that, the static I carried—the constant hum in my bones—smoothed out.