“My mother told me almost the same story,” she said. “Only in her version, the Hollowmoor Alpha brought guards and broke the vow with a blade. She always stopped there—said the rest was ‘not for children.’”
Heat gathered under my ribs. “They gave us halves.”
“They gave us weapons,” she answered, voice low. “Stories shaped to make us hate.”
“And now the Houses are ready to march,” I said. I pictured council tables, sealed letters, careful smiles hungry for a reason. “If we don’t pull the truth out, they’ll use our bond as a banner.”
She glanced at my hands, then met my eyes. “We go to the roots. We ask the elders who were told to forget. We stop them before the drums start.”
A muscle jumped in my cheek. Thin ice, already cracking. “If the legend is real—if they were in love—then both sides lied to save face. And we’re about to tear that open.”
“Good,” she said simply. No swagger, just resolve. “Better a clean wound than a poisoned one.”
In a moment, she reached for me slowly, like I was a wild thing she didn’t want to startle, and pressed her hand over my heart.
“I don’t want to fix you,” she said. “I just want to know you.”
I swallowed hard. My wolf stirred—low and sure—recognizing her as mine. This time, I didn’t fight it. The wind shifted, carrying pine and distant smoke, as if the forest itself wanted us to listen.
The next day, we met at the place where I’d once spotted her—water curving around mossy rocks, sunlight breaking through the trees. I stood at the brush, heart pounding, and watched her move through the river like it belonged to her. A kingfisher flashed blue, then disappeared; even the birds seemed to hush.
She was half-submerged, eyes closed, hair slick to her shoulders. The world seemed to quiet for her, and for once I wasn’t thinking about desire so much as reverence. Her wildness didn’t threaten me anymore. It steadied me, like the weight of a blade perfectly balanced in hand.
Raena opened her eyes. She didn’t startle or cover herself. She looked straight at me like she’d sensed me all along.
“You going to hide again?” she asked, voice calm and sure.
I stepped through the trees. “No.”
She nodded toward the bank. “Then come sit. If you’re not afraid this time.”
I hesitated a breath, then lowered myself onto a flat stone at the edge. She drifted closer, gaze never leaving mine. The current tugged at her waist and whispered around my boots.
“You make me want things I told myself I could never have.” My voice cracked.
Raena’s expression held steady, but something in her eyes shifted. “You think I’m not scared of that too?”
I frowned. “You?”
She nodded, trailing a hand through the water. “No one says it out loud, but I know what they think. That I’m too much. Too wild. Too dominant. That no mate would ever want a female stronger than him.”
I stared. “Then they’ve clearly never met a real Alpha.”
She let out a dry, almost-laugh. “Don’t romanticize it, Silas. Even wolves have fragile egos. I’ve had more males try to tame me than understand me.”
“I don’t want to tame you.”
Her brow lifted. “No?”
“I want to match you. I want to stand beside you and know that when everything else burns, you’ll still be here—untamed. Unapologetic.”
Raena looked away, like the words landed deeper than she’d allow. “You really think you can handle that?”
“I don’t want to handle it. I want to honor it.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then: “Say it again.”
“What?”
“That you want me. That you don’t want to fix me or shrink me.”
I nodded, pulse loud in my ears. “I want you. Just as you are. I want your strength. Your fire. The parts of you they tell you to quiet—I want those the most.”
The air shifted. She pulled her cloak around her shoulders and sat beside me. Her hand found my jaw—confident, gentle, sure.
Her touch grounded me and set me alight. My wolf pressed at the seams of control.
“I do want you,” I admitted. “But I don’t know how to want you without unraveling.”
She leaned in. Our noses brushed. Her mouth hovered over mine. The world held still; my eyes slipped almost closed and her heat was a promise against my lips.
“Then unravel,” she whispered.
I tilted my head, breath trembling, heart roaring.
And then—a howl split the trees.
My body tensed. Her head snapped toward the sound. Another howl, closer. Not friendly. Not familiar. Raena’s face changed in an instant. “That’s not one of ours.”
The third howl came sharp and urgent.
“Intruders,” she muttered, already rising.
And just like that, the moment shattered.