“Bad enough,” he admits. “The fight accelerated the process. Using our abilities together, drawing on the bond for strength, it deepened the connection without properly stabilizing it.”
“Like building a house from the roof down,” I murmur.
“Yes.” His fingers thread through my hair, the simple contact sending relief through the bond. “It needs completion, Ember. Soon.”
“We need to get back to your territory,” I agree. “Properly finish what we started.”
His expression darkens. “That may be complicated. Marcus received word from the pack while you were tending the wounded. Darin and several young warriors have called for a formal challenge.”
Ice spreads through my veins. “Because of me. Because of us.”
“Because of the bond. Because of the alliance with settlements.” His jaw tightens. “They claim I’ve betrayed pack traditions. That I’m no longer fit to lead.”
“When?”
“Tonight. Moonrise.”
Through our connection, I feel his concern—not fear of the challenge itself, but worry about facing it with our bond unstable. An alpha draws strength from his mate during challenges, but an incomplete bond makes that harder, more painful for both.
“Then we need to go now,” I say, determination replacing exhaustion. “Get back to your territory. Prepare.”
He nods, but his eyes remain troubled. “The strain of travel on the bond?—”
“We’ll manage,” I insist, though privately I share hisconcern. Already, the interrupted claiming burns like acid in my veins.
We leave River’s Edge as the wounded are evacuated, Shadow Wolf warriors and Haven’s Heart guards maintaining an uneasy truce as they escort settlers toward the northern caves. The journey back to wolf territory passes in tense silence, every mile increasing the pressure of the incomplete bond.
By the time we reach the Shadow Wolf camp, the sun hangs low in the western sky. The pack gathers silently as we approach, their expressions ranging from reverence to open hostility. I feel Zane drawing himself up, projecting alpha authority despite the drain of our bond.
“Marcus,” he calls. “Report.”
The beta approaches, bowing his head respectfully, though I notice his gaze slide to me with lingering suspicion. “Eight warriors stand with Darin. They’ve invoked challenge rights by ancient law. At moonrise, in the sacred circle.”
“So be it,” Zane replies. “See that the wounded from River’s Edge are settled in the eastern caves. Post guards against bear scouts.”
Marcus hesitates. “The pack questions whether we should continue protecting settlers when our own need defending.”
“The pack will follow their alpha’s command,” Zane says, voice dropping to a dangerous register. “Or challenge that alpha directly. There is no middle ground.”
Through our bond, I feel the strain this confrontation places on him. The incomplete claiming saps energy we both desperately need.
“We need to rest before moonrise,” I say quietly. “Strengthen what we can of the bond.”
Zane nods, dismissing Marcus with a gesture. We walk through the camp toward his tent, and I feel the weight of the pack’s stares. To them, I’m still the outsider who’s drawn their alpha away from tradition. Only victory in the challenge will begin to change that perception.
Inside his tent, privacy finally allows the mask to drop. Zane sways on his feet, exhaustion and bond-strain taking a visible toll. I’m no better—my muscles tremble with fatigue, my skin burns with the need for proper completion of our connection.
“How long until moonrise?” I ask, already unfastening the borrowed clothes.
“Two hours,” he replies, watching me with silver eyes gone dark with hunger. “Not enough time for what the bond needs.”
“Enough time for what we need,” I counter, stepping toward him. “I can feel you fading, Zane. The interrupted claiming, the battle, the journey—you’re running on empty.”
His hands find my waist, drawing me against him. “So are you.”
“Then we feed each other,” I whisper, reaching up to pull his mouth to mine.
The kiss ignites like dry tinder. One touch and we’re consumed, the bond flaring between us with desperate hunger. His hands strip away my clothes with urgency that borders on violence. Mine do the same to him, needing skin against skin like drowning lungs need air.
