Page 6

Jaslyn doesn’t say a word as I lead her out of the banquet hall, though the tension rolling off her could probably level a forest. Her shoulders are stiff, and her arms are crossed like she’s holding herself together by sheer force of will. I know better than to push her right now. She’s a storm barely contained, and the last thing I need is her magic going off again while we’re surrounded by the pack.

The path to the lake is quiet, save for the crunch of gravel beneath our boots and the faint rustle of wind through the trees. The air is cooler here, fresher, and the faint scent of water grows stronger with every step. It’s always been my go-to spot for clearing my head, though I’m pretty sure Jaslyn isn’t interested in the therapeutic scenery right now.

“Would you stop it?” she snaps suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence.

I blink, caught off-guard. “I haven’t said anything.”

“Exactly.” She spins on her heel to glare at me, her green eyes blazing. “You’ve been silent this whole time, and it’s driving me insane. If you’ve got something to say, say it. Otherwise, quit acting like you’re leading me to my execution.”

“I’m not—” I stop myself and take a calming breath. “I thought you could use the quiet.”

“Oh, because you’re so thoughtful now?” Her voice drips with sarcasm, and she throws her hands up. “Fantastic. I guess we’re all just supposed to forget that you didn’t give a damn about me for the last ten years.”

My jaw tightens, but I don’t rise to the bait. Instead, I keep walking, gesturing for her to follow. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

She mutters something under her breath but falls into step behind me. The trees thin out as we reach the edge of the lake. Its surface is as smooth as glass under the pale moonlight. The sight is serene, almost surreal, but I can feel Jaslyn’s anger crackling in the air like static electricity.

“This is it?” she asks, crossing her arms. “What, you’re hoping a scenic view will fix everything?”

“No,” I reply evenly. “But it might help you calm down before you blow something up. I heard that water can absorb magic, so…”

Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think she’s going to argue. Then she exhales sharply and stalks toward the water’s edge, kicking off her boots as she goes. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

I stay back, giving her space as she steps into the shallows. The water laps at her ankles, and she closes her eyes as her hands curl and uncurl at her sides. A faint shimmer of light pulses around her, almost too subtle to notice, but I feel it—a shift in the air, like the lake is holding its breath.

Her magic flares, and the water ripples in response. She tilts her head back, exhaling slowly, and I watch as the tension drains from her shoulders. The shimmer fades until it’s replaced by an almost eerie stillness, and for the first time all night, she looks… peaceful.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding before stepping closer to the edge of the water. “Better?”

She doesn’t answer right away. She just keeps her gaze fixed on the moonlit ripples around her feet. When she finally looks at me, her expression is guarded but calmer. “You brought me out here just so I could vent my powers?”

“It’s part of it,” I admit, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Figured it might help.”

Her lips twitch, but it’s not quite a smile. “Well, congratulations. You did one thing right tonight.”

“Glad to hear it.” I keep my tone light, though the weight of what I need to say next is already settling on my shoulders. “But we need to talk.”

Her brows knit together, and I don’t miss the suspicion flickering in her green eyes. “About what?”

I hesitate and run a hand through my hair as I search for the right words. “About why I brought you back. Why we need you here.”

She snorts and flips her red hair over her shoulder. “Oh, this should be good. Let me guess—you missed having me around? Needed a scapegoat to blame when things go wrong?”

“Jaslyn.” My voice is sharper than I intend, and she blinks, startled into silence. I soften my tone and continue. “It’s not about that. It’s about the pack. About what’s been happening to us.”

She studies me for a moment as her gaze searches mine for answers. “I’m listening.”

I take a deep breath, and the words are heavy as they leave my mouth. “We’ve been under attack. Not just Red Arrow, but Starfire Hollow and East Hills, too. Demons. They’ve been hitting us harder and more frequently than ever before.”

Her face doesn’t change, but I see the slight shift in her posture—the way her shoulders tense, the way her fingers twitch at her sides. “Demons,” she repeats, her voice flat.

“Yes. Two attacks on Red Arrow territory in the last six months. The last one killed two of our pack members and injured five others. And every sign points to another attack soon.”

She shakes her head slowly, like she’s trying to piece it together. “And what does that have to do with me?”

“It’s not just the attacks,” I explain, stepping closer. “It’s how they’re targeting us. They’re going after the packs without magical protection. Damien and Alec—” I stop, realizing she might not recognize the names. “The alphas of Starfire Hollow and East Hills. They’ve both married witches, and their packs have wards in place. Red Arrow doesn’t. We’re the most vulnerable.”

“So, what? You bought me because you think I can slap some wards on your territory and make the problem go away?”

“It’s more than that. You’re not just some random witch, Jaslyn. This is your home. Your mother was Red Arrow, and that makes this pack a part of you, whether you want to admit it or not. It’s in your blood, and that makes this personal for you, too. We need you—your magic, your knowledge, your strength. Without you, we’re fighting a losing battle.”

I can see the questions brewing in her eyes, the doubts she doesn’t want to voice. And I know that no matter what I say next, it won’t be enough to erase the past.

But I have to try.

“Let me get this straight,” Jaslyn says. “You brought me back because the pack needs magical protection, and you thought I’d just… what? Jump into a leadership role like nothing happened just because my mother was one of you?”

I suppress a sigh. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it’s not,” she snaps, crossing her arms. “Nothing with you ever is. What aren’t you telling me, Gray?”

There’s no point in dodging it. She’s too sharp for that. “The marriage,” I admit, meeting her gaze. “It’s part of it.”

Her brows shoot up, and for a second, I think she might actually laugh. “Part of it?” she repeats, her tone incredulous. “You mean I had to marry you for this to work? It wasn’t about helping the pack accept me at all. Was that some kind of magical prerequisite, or are you just making up rules as you go?”

“It’s not a rule,” I say quickly. “It’s about optics. The pack—”

“Optics,” she cuts in, shaking her head. “You mean you needed to make sure no one questioned why you brought me back after everything. Got it.”

“That’s not—” I stop myself, exhaling slowly. “Yes, it helps with the pack. I didn’t lie about that. But that’s not the only reason.”

“Oh, this should be good,” she mutters, glaring at me. “Go on. Enlighten me.”

I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “I married you to protect you, Jaslyn. Not just from the pack, but from anyone who might see you as a threat—or a tool. As my mate, you’re untouchable. No one can challenge your place here. No one can try to use you against us.”

Her expression falters for a moment, and something unreadable moves across her face. But just as quickly, her walls go back up. “So, what? I’m your charity case now? Your personal damsel in distress?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I reply, keeping my tone calm despite the frustration building in my chest. “This isn’t about pity. It’s about making sure you’re safe. I couldn’t protect you back then, but I can now.”

She lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You think this makes up for what you did? For what you let happen to me?”

“No,” I state, stepping closer. “I don’t. But it’s a start.”

The silence that follows is heavy, the kind that presses against your ribs and makes it hard to breathe. She stares at me like she’s trying to decide whether to yell at me or walk away. Finally, she exhales sharply, breaking the tension.

“Fine,” she says. “You want my help? You’ve got it. But I have conditions.”

I arch a brow. “Conditions?”

“That’s right. First, this marriage? It’s only on paper. No playing house, no pretending we’re something we’re not. Clear?”

I nod slowly, though the words sting more than I want to admit. “Clear.”

“Second,” she continues, ticking the points on her fingers, “I’m here to help with the demon problem. That’s it. As soon as they’re dealt with, I’m gone. No strings, no obligations. I will no longer be a slave to you or the pack or to Malcolm. I will be my own person. Agreed?”

Every instinct in me screams to argue, to fight for something more permanent, but I bite it back. Pushing her now will only make things worse. “Agreed,” I say.

She narrows her eyes like she’s waiting for me to slip up, to say something she can use as ammunition. When I don’t, she lets out a breath and crosses her arms again. “Good. Because I’m not here to play the role of perfect little mate. I’m here to do a job, and that’s all.”

The words are harsh, but I nod, anyway. “Understood.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The air between us is thick with tension, but there’s something else, too—an undercurrent of understanding, fragile and tentative. She may not trust me yet, but agreeing to her terms feels like the first step toward something better.

“I’ll be upfront with you from now on,” I promise. “About the pack, about what we need, about everything. No more surprises.”

“Good. Because I’m done being kept in the dark.”

I nod, and for the first time since this whole mess started, I feel like we’re on the same page. Or at least, in the same book.