Page 27 of Bound to Exiles (Rejected Wolf Pack #5)

Rowan

Through the pack bond, I sensed Gage’s summons drawing the Howling Echo to the main tent at the center of our encampment.

“Zak has something he wants to tell us,” Gage said through the Bonded link.

Though I preferred my wolf form, I shifted back since I knew the rest would be on two legs for this meeting. The cool air instantly reminded me why I preferred my other form, and I pulled on jeans from my sling bag.

My gaze snagged on a large raven, its feathers black as shadow, perched silently in the upper branches of a gnarled oak just beyond the largest of our canvas shelters.

Its brown and green canvas walls rippled softly in the light breeze, the scent of damp earth and old woodsmoke clinging to it.

The bird’s unwavering gaze fixed on me for a beat before I headed for the entrance.

Duckling under the heavy canvas flap, I stepped inside.

The air was warmer here, thick with the musk of masculine alpha wolves along with Zak’s unfamiliar magic scent.

The grass had already been trampled down beneath the rough hewn wooden tables and benches.

Gage and Flint were already waiting with Zak .

The mage’s dark eyes tracked my movements as I entered, and I found myself wondering what he saw — an alpha who’d once distrusted him, or a potential packmate?

Gage’s eyes snapped to my face as his curiosity poured through the pack bond.

Had he only just noticed that my witchfire scars were gone?

Then again, I’d rarely shifted to human form since Zak healed me.

Anyone who might have noticed the missing scars hadn’t seen me as a human long enough to spot the difference.

The extra time spent in my wolf form meant my beard had begun growing in at last.

“When?” Gage demanded.

“The other day, while we patrolled.” I met his gaze steadily. “Zak saw my scars and offered.”

Through our bond, I felt Gage processing this, weighing the meaning of Zak’s gesture. The pack alpha’s eyes narrowed at Zak, but the mage just smiled.

“I can heal witchfire burns. Like… Your arm,” Zak offered, studying the angry red line stretching up Gage’s forearm past his elbow. “May I?”

When Gage nodded, Zak drew a sigil in the air. This time I didn’t flinch when blue light erupted from his fingertips. His hands moved with confidence as he touched the pack alpha’s burned skin. Gage held still, and under Zak’s gentle ministrations, new skin emerged unblemished.

The sight stirred something in me. Just days ago, Zak had healed my own scars with the same gentle touch. Now, watching him heal my packmate, I couldn’t deny how naturally he fit with us. The way he touched Gage was neither dominant nor submissive, just careful, competent.

Gage stared at his healed arm in wonder. “That easy?”

“Anyone else?” Zak turned to Flint.

“Mine are in my wolf form,” he said, already unbuttoning his shirt. “The witchfire caught me across the chest when I tried to leap over it.”

As Flint stripped down to shift, Zak didn’t avert his eyes. Flint watched the mage watching him, and his lips curled up slightly. He shifted smoothly without acknowledging Zak’s lingering gaze. I wondered if the mage’s attentions would have the same effect on Flint as on me.

“Why didn’t Brielle ever offer to heal us?” Gage asked as Flint’s wolf emerged, patches of his chest still hairless where the witchfire had scorched him.

Zak went to one knee to heal Flint, his hands steady against the large alpha wolf. “Everyone has different spells they’ve learned. And different strengths. She’s a hybrid who lives alone, right?”

Gage nodded when Zak looked up at him. With Zak on his knees before us, the scent of desire bloomed between them. I stepped back, unwilling to deal with the strange feelings Zak had provoked in me while he’d been healing me the other day.

“Right,” Zak focused on his blue magic. “If she’s always been a solitary mage, then she’s never worked with other witches as part of a coven. That might be why.”

His words triggered a memory — Brielle’s voice echoing in my mind: “Mages owe no allegiance to a coven, so we meet on neutral terms. Hybrids tend to help each other when we can, because we’re often ostracized from both sides.

You see? Hybrid mages are always outcasts.

Witches will always try to kill Freya when they realize what she is.

They’re her enemy, Rowan, just as they’re yours. ”

Brielle believed hybrids would always be outcasts, but Zak had belonged to a coven. And if witches were hybrids’ enemies, why did he still refer to his coven with such familiarity?

The questions gnawed at me as Flint shifted back, now whole and unscarred.

He glanced my way. “Did Zak heal your burns in wolf form as well?”

I shook my head. “Just a singed tail. Wasn’t worth troubling him over.”

“No trouble at all,” Zak insisted, his eyes meeting mine. “You don’t deserve to suffer.”

We locked gazes for a moment before his naturally dropped in submission to my alpha dominance.

But that didn’t reassure me. As Flint got dressed, I turned away and stripped down to shift, ignoring Zak.

I was still trying to forget how I’d felt last time when he’d healed my naked skin.

My wolf came easily, eager for Zak’s touch.

As his cool fingers traced along my scorched tail, the same soothing sensation spread through me that I’d felt when he’d healed my face.

The tight, painful pull of scarred skin eased, replaced by a gentle warmth that seeped into muscle and bone.

I could almost feel the fur prickling back to life beneath his touch.

My wolf wanted to lean into his touch, to accept the comfort he offered. But I held myself rigidly still, watching him from the corner of my eye as the blue glow faded.

He was trying too hard to prove himself useful — healing our scars, teaching Freya magic, showing off his knowledge of bonds. His desperation to belong showed itself through his every action, even though he kept himself hidden in the bond and refused to show us his wolf.

Today, though, he seemed different. More at ease, more confident somehow.

“I still don’t trust him completely,” I said silently to the other alphas.

“Let’s listen to what he has to say,” Flint said. “He told us he wants to prove his loyalty to the pack.”

“We’ll see,” Gage growled in our minds.

“Shall I play bad cop?” Heath asked from afar.

“Sure,” Gage said, and even I sensed the challenge in that single word. He’d noticed Heath’s attraction to Zak — who hadn’t?

When the familiar burn of the witchfire scar faded completely, replaced by the tickle of new fur growing in, I couldn’t deny the genuine care in Zak’s touch. He treated my injury with the same gentle attention he’d shown the others, asking nothing in return.

I shifted back, pulling on my clothes as I tried to sort through my conflicting reactions. His scent carried no deception, but something about his story didn’t add up. My wolf wanted to trust him, even while my human side questioned why he would keep secrets from those he wanted as packmates.

“Did you work much with your coven?” Flint asked.

Zak’s shoulders fell slightly. “I wish I’d had more opportunities to work with other witches. ”

“More opportunities?” Heath’s voice cut through the tent as he entered with Freya. “I thought you’d given up your coven. Are you a spy?”

Zak blinked in confusion. “Obviously not. I—”

“Zak just healed us, Heath,” Flint growled, surprising me by taking the mage’s side, despite knowing Heath was playing bad cop.

“And did he use his coven’s power to do so?” Heath asked. “After all, Brielle never offered to heal you, did she?”

This time, Zak defended himself. “I’m not using coven power to heal you. And I’m not drawing on our Bonded connection, either.”

“Explain,” Gage demanded, his dominance filling the tent while subtly avoiding the word turning into an alpha command.

My envy at Gage’s skill churned in my gut. It was too easy for me to accidentally alpha-bark, yet Gage somehow withheld his at will.

All eyes turned to Zak. Freya reached out, grabbing his hand, and he gently tugged her closer, his eyes hungry even though his bond stayed silent.

She wrapped her arm around his waist, and he drew in a deep breath, as though the contact steadied him.

“Normally, covens use Bonding ceremonies to maintain stability,” Zak said, his voice steady.

“It keeps witches in check, and often balances power between the strongest and weakest members. Without being Bonded, witches must use spell circles to share power or work magic together. But Bonded witches can access each other’s magic freely. It requires absolute trust.”

“And what exactly are you accessing from us?” I growled, my protective instincts flaring.

“You all possess considerable power — especially Freya.” Zak’s eyes softened when they landed on her.

“In truth, I haven’t ever pulled from our Bonded connection at all — since meeting you, none of the magic I’ve used has been taxing.

You would notice if any of us drew too much from the rest. It could make you sluggish, slow to shift or heal.

It could even weaken your alpha commands and your resistance to them. ”

Freya pulled back to look up at Zak, her curiosity clear in our bond. “Does this mean they’ll have lightning powers and visions like me? ”

We all looked at each other, but I’d felt no different recently. “My wolf definitely hasn’t gained any lightning abilities.”

“No visions here,” Heath shrugged.

“I doubt any of us will gain any of Freya’s Odinswolf powers,” Zak said. “Your wolves weren’t equipped for those abilities before — you can’t suddenly cast spells any more than I can issue alpha commands. But I can’t say for sure.”

“So you and Freya will be able to use your combined powers more than the rest of us,” Gage noted, his jaw tightening.