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NASH

Everything about this moment feels fine.

That’s the first thing wrong with it. I’m not someone who ever feels fine. I assess, I weigh, I decide, all while cataloguing worst-case scenarios. This is different. This is a smoothness where there should be friction, a quiet where my wolf should be loud, and somewhere underneath all of it, a part of me knows that and can’t do a damn thing about it.

On top of that, my wolf can’t stop thinking about the woman standing two feet to my left.

Mia Reyes.

I keep tracking her without deciding to. She’s been still for too long—not the loose, easy quiet the rest of us are standing in. Something else. Something with an edge underneath it I can’t name. Her hands are free at her sides, but her weight is forward—like she’s getting ready to make a move.

I recognize her body language even if I can’t quite grasp how I know it. Before the answer can surface, I forget the question.

When I tune back in, Ramsey is talking about his plans for the pack he’s taking over. His voice is warm, confident, and I agree with most of what he’s saying. He’s the authority in this town. Following authority is how things get done.

I look at the tree line. The morning light comes through the oaks at an angle. Nearby, Mia shifts her weight, the light hitting her hair. Making it blaze like a flame.

My wolf goes still.

There’s a thread in me that hasn’t gone dark the way the rest of me has. Every time I track her in my peripheral vision, it buzzes. I shove it back.

She’s not just Mia Reyes. She’s my⁠—

“—be ready,” Ramsey is saying. “I’ll need you two to put down anyone who rejects my claim as their new alpha.”

“Of course,” I say.

The thread inside me hums.

My memory flashes. Mia and me at a party. Hiding away in the solarium. Hands and mouths and bodies pressed close.

For one second, it’s crystal clear. Then the fog closes again.

Ramsey turns to Davina and says something meant only for her.

The hex blade hangs at Davina’s side, metal catching the morning light in a way that makes my wolf recoil even through the fog. I know that blade. Or some part of me does. Grey’s memories from the blood oath flash and vanish before I can hold onto them: pain, power, amplification, a weapon that should never be in her hands.

Behind them, the estate grounds are empty and still. Far off, past the eastern gate, something is crashing through underbrush. Moving away.

Mia adjusts her stance again.

This time, my whole body tracks it.

She’s moved four feet to the left. Her weight is on the balls of her feet now. Her hands have dropped. So have her shoulders.

The thread screams.

An urgent voice in my head whispers, come back to me.

My wolf strains to do exactly that.

I blink.

Ramsey is watching me. Easy. Confident. Not watching her.

That’s when she moves.