The forest wraps around Darius like a living cloak, dark, wild, and unforgiving. Moonlight pierces the canopy in silver shafts, casting shadows that flicker with each beat of his powerful paws. His wolf charges through underbrush and leaps across streams, every muscle coiled with restless energy.
How dare she defy me?
The thought loops in his mind with every step.
A slip of a girl, barely more than five feet, freshly scrubbed and smelling like wild lilac and something he can't quite place, had stood in his kitchen, under his roof, and challenged him. Not just with words. No.
She had the gall to stick her tongue out at him.
Darius snarls under his breath as he launches himself over a narrow ravine. The audacity. The disrespect.
And somehow, worse than all of it, was the flash of mischief in her eyes when she did it, like teasing the Alpha was as natural to her as breathing.
She'd looked more like a storybook fae than a werewolf, petite, skin glowing from a recent shower, dark hair tied in a messy bun, dressed in borrowed clothes that hugged her curves a little too well.
And yet she'd dared.
She stuck her tongue out at me. Like he was some grumpy uncle and not a walking embodiment of dominance and power.
He growls again, chest tight, muscles burning with the effort to keep running.
No one gets under his skin like this. Especially not tiny, wide-eyed runaways with no sense of hierarchy.
Darius growls low in his throat, ears pinned back as he pushes faster, trying to outrun the memory. But it's stubborn, like her. That flash of mischief in her eyes, quick as lightning, impossible to ignore.
He circles wide through the territory before slowing near a moonlit ridge. Shifting back into his human form, he stands tall and bare-chested, the wind whipping through his hair. He plants his feet into the mossy ground, chest heaving.
"She was hiding behind my mother," he mutters to no one.
Still, that didn't stop her from poking the wolf.
He runs a hand through his sweat-dampened hair and smirks to himself. Let's see how brave she is when it's just the two of us.
The thought, dark, playful, and unsettling, sends a strange thrill through him.
Inside the packhouse, the kitchen has returned to a calm hum. The rich aroma of herbs and roasted meat still lingers in the air, though now the focus is on Cassandra, seated between Grace and Sasha, visibly shaken but holding herself with quiet dignity.
Grace, ever the poised Alpha Female, places a gentle hand over Cassandra's trembling fingers. "Now, dear," she begins in her lilting, almost musical voice, "he may look like he chews silver nails for breakfast, but I promise you, Darius is all bark when he's not brooding."
Cassie forces a faint smile. "He doesn't seem like the cuddly type."
Grace laughs softly. "That's because he's not. He's more like a hedgehog, prickly and antisocial."
"With emotional constipation," Sasha adds helpfully.
"Sasha," Grace warns lightly, though her lips twitch with amusement.
Cassandra shakes her head, cheeks coloring. "I'm sorry if I caused any trouble..."
"Nonsense," Grace says with finality. "If anything, you gave him a well-needed shock. And I haven't seen him storm out like that since someone forgot to feed his wolf steak on the full moon."
"That was one time!" Sasha huffs.
Cassandra giggles, the tension in her chest loosening ever so slightly.
Grace tilts her head and observes her closely. "It's strange seeing you so grown up. The last time I laid eyes on you, you were knee-high to a fox and dragging a wooden sword twice your size through the garden."
Cassie's brows lift. "You remember me?"
"Of course," Grace smiles, fondness in her tone. "I was there a few times when your parents brought you to the Silver Moon gatherings. You wouldn't remember, you were still so young."
"I'm sorry," Cassie says sincerely. "I wish I remembered more. Abby said you and my mom were close."
Grace's smile softens into something sadder. "We were. She was my sister in all but blood. Fierce, stubborn, and so loyal it hurt. When she found your father, she glowed. And when she had you..." She chuckles. "She said she finally understood what the Moon Goddess meant when she gifted wolves with family."
Cassie swallows the sudden lump in her throat. "They died when I was five."
"I know." Grace squeezes her hand. "I wanted to come. But circumstances..." She trails off, expression unreadable for a moment. "Still, Abby and John were the best you could've had. I never worried, knowing they were watching over you."
"They're the only parents I really remember," Cassie whispers, then glances at Grace. "They gave me everything."
Grace nods, pride flashing in her eyes. "They did well."
Sasha suddenly leans forward, lips pursed. "Okay, but like... what kind of dumbass rejects someone like you? I mean, I'd date you."
Cassie blinks, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Sasha shrugs. "You're sweet, smart, and have that mysterious 'I've survived some serious crap but still sparkle' vibe. Any guy who dumps that is brain-damaged."
"Sasha!" Grace hisses, but she's grinning.
Cassie snorts despite herself. "Thanks..."
Then the conversation turns, drifting back into that quiet shadow that's always followed her. The rejection.
Grace studies her carefully. "You didn't feel the bond snap?"
Cassie shakes her head slowly. "No. That's what confuses me. There was a moment, like something shifted, but it was so...soft. Not the agony I've heard others describe."
"Most rejections break wolves," Grace says, frowning now.
"I braced for that," Cassie admits. "But it never came. It's like...like I was never really his. Like the bond was fake."
"Or like it wasn't the true bond," Grace muses under her breath.
Cassie blinks. "What?"
"Nothing," Grace says smoothly. "You're stronger than you think. Maybe the Moon Goddess has other plans."
Sasha's eyes widen. "You think she has two mates? Like...a rejected decoy and a real one?"
Grace shrugs. "It's possible. Everyone deserves a chance."
Cassie doesn't respond. Her fingers tighten around the mug in her hands.
The idea is absurd. And yet...why didn't she feel that break? Why hadn't her wolf gone mad? Why had there only been relief?
And why, despite every reason to fear him, did Darius's eyes still linger in her mind?
She shakes her head.
"No more of this tonight," Grace declares. "Let's focus on getting you settled. Now, tell me your favorite food."
"Garlic bread," Cassie blurts out.
Grace grins. "A girl of good taste."
From there, the conversation shifts into easier waters. They talk about herbs, baking disasters, favorite constellations, and how Sasha once mistook a rogue vampire for a traveling librarian. Cassie's laughter is soft at first, but soon it's bubbling from her chest with abandon.
For the first time in years, she feels welcome.
When the yawns become frequent and Sasha starts resting her head on the table, Grace stands and announces bedtime.
Sasha walks Cassie back to her room, yawning and stretching like a lazy cat. "You did good today, pixie girl," she says with a half-grin. "He didn't even try to kill you. That's progress."
"Comforting," Cassie says wryly, pushing open the door.
"Sleep well. Try not to dream of Darius brooding on mountaintops."
Cassie sticks out her tongue and shuts the door.
Inside, she sinks into the bed with a sigh. The mattress is soft, the blankets warm. She clutches the pillow like it's a lifeline and stares at the ceiling beams.
Her thoughts drift, Abby and John. The escape. This strange, magical place.
And then, Darius. Always circling back.
Why does she want to challenge him? Why does her wolf lean toward his power like a flower seeking sun?
And why does she feel like something is waking inside her?
Something ancient. Something buried.
She falls asleep to the sound of wind through the trees...and the ghost of a howl that echoes in her dreams.