“I can do it,” I protest weakly.
“I know you can.” His voice is gentle as he helps me slip my feet into my boots. “But you don’t have to. Not now that I’m here.”
The trip to Pack Opal passes in a blur. Kieran rents a truck for us and my bike, then carries me to it despite my protests, treating me like I’m made of glass. Every touch is gentle, careful, as if he’s afraid I’ll shatter. Maybe I will.
He’s different with me now—attentive without being overbearing, protective without being possessive. When I start shivering, he turns the heat up without comment. When nausea hits halfway there, he pulls over immediately, holding my hair back as I retch on the side of the road.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, mortified.
“Don’t be.” His hand is warm on my back. “This is my fault. All of it. I’m the one who should be ashamed and embarrassed, not you. Especially not you.”
We’re met at Pack Opal’s borders by a small contingent from Pack Jade—including, to my dismay, Dierdre Reynolds and her mate. My former best friend’s lip curls when she sees me, her perfectly styled hair and designer clothes a stark contrast to my current disheveled state. I can almost smell the sweat in my hair and the vomit on my breath as she looks at me.
“Still can’t shift?” she asks sweetly, exactly the same tone she used to use when we were friends and she was about to say something cutting to someone else. “Although I suppose that’s the least of your problems now. Attempting to break a mate bond? How desperate can you get?”
The words hit harder because we used to be so close. I remember sleepovers at her house, sharing secrets and dreams. She was the first person I told about my crush on Kieran. Then she got her wolf, found her mate, and suddenly I wasn’t good enough to be her friend anymore. Because I was tainted.
Before I can respond, Kieran’s growl cuts through the air. Not just any growl—an alpha’s growl, full of power and fury. “Watch your tongue,” he snarls, positioning himself between me and Dierdre. “You’re speaking to my mate.”
Shocked silence falls. Dierdre’s eyes go wide as Kieran continues, his voice hard with authority, “I made a mistake in rejecting Aurora, something I know now without a doubt. She is stronger and braver than any of you can possibly understand, worth every single one of you put together. If anyone questions her worth again, they’ll answer to me and they won’t like what they get.”
“But she’s broken,” Dierdre’s mate protests, taking a step forward. “She can’t even shift! How can you claim her as your mate when she’s not even a real shifter?”
I expect Kieran to hesitate at his words. After all, they echo his own thoughts from five years ago. Instead, his growl deepens as he advances on Dierdre’s mate. “She took down several fae warriors without shifting, saved a shifter from madness, and has proven invaluable in this fight,” he snaps. “What have you done lately besides gossip? When was the last time you fought for our people? Protected our pack from its enemies?”
His arms tighten around me protectively as he continues, “Aurora is perfect exactly as she is, wolf or no wolf, and she’s still a shifter. I was too weak to see it before, but I see it now. She’s ten times the shifter any of you will ever be. Anyone who has a problem with that can leave—and don’t think I won’t remember who stood against us when I’m alpha.”
No one speaks. I stare up at Kieran, stunned by his vehemence. This is not the man who rejected me twice. This is someone new—or maybe someone who was there all along, buried under his father’s toxic influence and his own fears.
Pack Opal’s healers set us up in a comfortable guest house near their clinic. As they examine me, Kieran hovers nearby,growling whenever anyone gets too close. His protectiveness should annoy me, but instead it makes something warm flutter in my chest. I didn’t realize how it would feel to have an actualmate,didn’t dare dream of it, but now… I almost can.
“The ritual did significant damage,” one healer explains, her hands gentle as she checks my pulse points. “Not just physically, but magically. You’ll need time to recover.”
“How long?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“At least a week, maybe more.” She eyes Kieran. “The mate bond will help speed healing, if you let it. Anything you do to tend to her will be significant.”
I stiffen at her words, but Kieran just nods. “Whatever she needs. Whatever she wants. As long as she wants it, of course.”
Once we’re alone in the guest house, I expect him to hover, to try to control everything like he did this morning. Instead, he keeps his distance, letting me set the pace.
“You don’t have to stay,” I tell him, easing myself onto the couch. Even that small movement exhausts me. “I’m sure your father needs you back home, given everything that’s going on.” He caught me up on the way here. “I won’t keep you from your duties.”
“I’m exactly where I need to be.” He sits in a chair across from me, close but not touching. “I’ve spent five years letting my father’s voice in my head dictate my choices. Not anymore. The only thing I want right now is to be at your side while you heal.”
I study him warily. “Why the sudden change?”
“Because I almost lost you.” His voice breaks. “When I felt your pain through the bond, when I found you convulsing on that floor… I’ve never been so terrified in my life. It made me realize what really matters.”
“And what’s that?”
“You.” The simple word carries so much weight. “Being worthy of you. Being the mate you deserve.” He runs a handthrough his hair, a nervous gesture I remember from our childhood. “I want to know everything about you—who you really are, what you want from life. Not just as a fighter or survivor, but… what are your dreams? What future do you see for yourself?”
The question catches me off guard. No one has ever asked me that before—they all assumed I was just waiting for a miracle that would let me shift. “It’s silly…”
“Tell me anyway? Please?” His eyes are soft, genuine. “I want to know who you really are, beyond just what I already know from growing up together.”
“I’ve been thinking about opening my own place,” I admit hesitantly. “A garage in front, where I could fix bikes and cars. But in the back…” I pause, but his encouraging nod makes me continue. “In the back would be a bar. Not like Marjorie’s—something different. Somewhere that outcasts and loners could feel welcome, where no one judges them for not fitting in or… not being mated.”
