Page 16 of Craved by the Werewolf (Mystic Ridge Monster Mates #2)

THORNE

T he morning air was already warm and sticky, the kind of thick heat that promised it would be sweltering by noon.

The scent of sun-warmed earth, and the faint bite of woodsmoke from last night's fire pits hung over the ridge.

I'd told myself a long perimeter check would clear my head. It wasn't working.

Vala's scent still clung to me.

Wolf-me was thrilled. Man-me was irritated.

The two of us hadn't agreed on much since she walked into my life.

I kept my eyes scanning the tree line, the fence line, the trail worn smooth by patrols. But every quiet pocket of woods just left too much room for my mind to wander—to the sound she made when she laughed, the way she challenged me with those sharp eyes, the warm weight of her curled against me.

My thoughts kept circling back to the fae attack, how close I'd come to losing her in that chaos. How it had clarified things in a way nothing else could have.

"Thorne, you're brooding."

I glanced over to find Raina leaning against the fence, coffee in hand like she'd been waiting for me to pass by just to heckle me.

"I'm doing my job," I said.

"Uh-huh. You're doing that thing where your jaw is tight enough to snap your own teeth. That's not the job, that's the 'female trouble' face."

I didn't rise to it. Which, of course, she took as confirmation.

"Look, I don't care what happened between you two," she went on, "but I do care if it turns you into a distracted idiot who misses a real threat because you're replaying some human drama in your head."

"I'm not distracted."

Her brow went up. "You just walked past a set of bear tracks without even noticing."

Damn it. I doubled back, crouched, scanned them, then kept moving.

I was so close to shaking her and her coffee when Kai appeared from the opposite trail, grinning like the troublemaker he was.

"Morning, Alpha. Or is it mourning, Alpha?"

I shot him a look that would've made most wolves tuck tail. He just fell into step beside me, smirking. "You smell like her. Thought you should know."

This patrol was going to be hell.

We were halfway back to the compound when our earpieces crackled.

"Alpha, we've got—uh—situation at the main gate," came the voice of Brann, one of the younger guards. He sounded winded. "It's... Vala Nightingale."

Every muscle in my body went on alert. "What about her?"

"She just... came out of nowhere. Dropped off by a... uh... RidgeRide?—"

Raina snorted beside me. "RidgeRide?"

Brann kept going, talking faster now. "—and bolted for the gate before we could stop her. She's inside the south entrance and we can't catch her. She's... fast. Really fast."

I picked up my pace, Kai and Raina flanking me now like we were running a damn interception play.

"Stop chasing her," I said into the comm. "You'll only make it worse."

"But she's?—"

"I said stop."

The channel went quiet except for the sound of my boots pounding the dirt.

Through the trees, movement caught my eye—a flash of golden hair, bare legs, and a determined-as-hell expression tearing down the path toward me. Two of my guards were trailing her like she'd set them on fire.

She saw me, and something wild lit in her eyes.

She didn't slow down. If anything, she kicked it up a notch until she was close enough that I had to brace for impact.

"Vala—"

"I'm not going to LA," she blurted, breathless, like if she didn't get it out fast enough the words might dissolve. "I don't care if I get fired, I am not leaving Mystic Ridge."

I stared at her, still catching up to the fact that she'd just broken into a wolf compound to tell me this.

"And before you say anything," she went on, pointing at me like I'd been about to argue, "I would have told you everything. But you didn't call me, so I thought maybe you were mad or—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "Doesn't matter. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

The guards behind her looked like they weren't sure if they should stay or retreat. Raina muttered, "Better than TV," under her breath.

I just stood there, caught somewhere between relief, disbelief, and the urge to drag her straight back to my quarters before she could say another word. My wolf was howling yes, mine, keep her, while my brain tried to process what the hell just happened.

She shifted on her feet, like she was waiting for me to explode or pull some Alpha power move.

I didn't. I just kept staring at her like the beautiful lunatic she was.

I put a hand at the small of her back—firm enough to guide, not force—and steered her away from the commotion she had caused. My wolf settled a fraction at the contact, but the rest of me was wound tight.

"Where are we—" she started.

"We are going somewhere private," I said, already angling us toward my quarters. The murmurs behind us faded as we cut across the inner courtyard, boots crunching over the gravel path.

Vala didn't stay quiet long. "LA moved the meeting up. I had to pack in a rush, catch the first flight out."

Her words came fast, tumbling over each other like she had to unload everything before I cut her off. "When you didn't call, I figured you?—"

I kept my eyes forward, jaw tight. Every sentence was a spark in dry tinder, and I didn't trust myself to speak until I had the whole picture.

She glanced at me, reading my silence. "Thorne..."

Still nothing. I was trying to process the simple, infuriating truth: she'd been gone. I'd torn the place apart looking for a sign, a reason, anything.

We passed the training field, the morning air sharp with the scent of dew on trampled grass. I heard the clack of sparring sticks somewhere to our left—the world going on like nothing had happened—and my wolf didn't give a damn about any of it.

Her steps slowed just enough that I noticed. "If you're angry, just say it," she said, softer now. "Or... if you think I shouldn't have come back..."

That made me look at her.

She was still walking, but her eyes were fixed ahead, shoulders squared like she was bracing for a crash. It twisted something in me—the fact she could even think that.

I didn't answer right away, because the truth was, I didn't know what I was happening. Angry? Relieved? Half out of my mind that she was here instead of in another city? All of it.

By the time we reached my door, her rush of words had slowed to nothing. The silence between us was thick.

I keyed the lock and stepped aside for her to go in first. My voice was low, steady. "We're going to talk. All of it. No interruptions."

And I meant it.

The door shut behind us with a thud. The air inside felt different—quieter, still charged from the walk over.

I leaned back against the door for a second, just looking at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her brow knit. "I did."

"No," I said, sharper than intended. "You disappeared. No call, no text, nothing."

Her chin lifted. "I told you, I left a note."

That stopped me cold. "What note?"

"On the bed," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Right before I left. I waited for you, but you didn't come back so put it where you would find it..." She trailed off, eyes flicking away. "I thought you'd see it."

I stared at her, the puzzle pieces clicking into place in the most frustrating way possible.

My mouth curved—not in humor exactly, but in grim recognition. "I never saw the note."

Her eyes widened just slightly. The realization hit her at the same time it hit me—she'd tried to say goodbye, and I'd spent hours thinking she'd just... left.

The tightness in my chest eased.

She exhaled, a soft huff of quiet relief. "So you weren't ignoring me."

"And you weren't trying to vanish without a word."

She moved to the window, looking out at the compound.

"You know, when I was sitting on that plane, I kept telling myself that LA was everything I'd worked for.

National syndication. Bigger markets." She turned back to me, her eyes finding mine.

"And then I realized I couldn't name a single thing in LA that mattered more than what I was leaving behind. "

"Mystic Ridge," I said, taking a step toward her.

She shook her head. "You."

The word hung between us, simple and profound.

"Don't get me wrong," she added, a hint of her usual spark returning. "I love this town. Haven House, the kids, even the weird little coffee shop that sometimes serves drinks that change your hair color. But none of that is why I got off that plane."

I closed the distance between us slowly, giving her time to change her mind. "LA was your dream."

"Dreams change." Her voice was soft but certain. "I've spent my whole life chasing the next opportunity, the next rung on the ladder. And then you came along and made me want to stay still long enough to see what happens next."

We were standing barely a foot apart now, the low light in my quarters catching the edges of her hair, turning them to fire.

"You're staying," I said. Not a question. My wolf already knew the answer.

She met my gaze head-on. "I'm staying."

The words went through me like a shock—sharp, clean, final. My control, already worn thin from the second she crashed into me, strained to the breaking point.

I stepped into her space, my hands coming to her hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin above her waistband. "If you stay, Vala... you know what that means."

Her breath caught, but she didn't back away. "I know."

"Do you?" I needed to be sure. "This isn't just about tonight or tomorrow. For wolves, this is..." I searched for words a human would understand. "Permanent. The pack already sees you as mine. If I claim you, that bond doesn't break."

She placed her palm against my chest, right over my heart. "I might be human, but I've lived in Mystic Ridge long enough to understand what it means when an Alpha chooses a mate." Her eyes held mine, unflinching. "I'm not making this decision lightly, Thorne."

My wolf pressed hard against my skin, demanding. "You'd be giving up more than just LA. There would be expectations, responsibilities. The pack would become your family."

A smile touched her lips. "I've spent my life looking for a family. Haven House was the closest I'd come, until now." Her fingers curled into my shirt. "I know what I'm choosing."

"And you're sure?" I had to ask, even as every instinct screamed at me to stop questioning and claim what was mine.

"I'm choosing you," she said, her voice steady. "Whether that's in Mystic Ridge or anywhere else." Then, with a trace of her usual sass: "Though I'd prefer Mystic Ridge. LA traffic is hell."

That broke the last thread of my restraint. I laughed, low and rough, before my hand slid to the back of her neck, tilting her head to expose the smooth curve at the base of her throat. She gave it willingly, pulse beating fast under my thumb.

"This will change things," I said, my voice barely human now. "Once it's done, you're pack. You're mine."

Her eyes met mine, dark and certain. "Then do it."

The scent of her, the trust in that single movement, ripped away the last of my control.

I lowered my mouth to her skin, teeth grazing before I sank them in just deep enough to mark her.

She gasped—not from pain, but from the way our bond snapped into place, fierce and unshakable.

I felt it too—a connection that ran deeper than anything physical, tying us together in ways that defied human explanation.

When I lifted my head, her eyes were wide, her lips parted. My wolf growled in satisfaction, the taste of her still on my tongue.

"I feel it," she whispered, wonder in her voice as her hand came up to touch the mark. "It's like..." She searched for words. "Like part of you is inside me now."

"Because it is." I rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in. "And part of you is in me."

Outside, a distant howl went up—then another, then more, spreading through the compound as the pack sensed what had happened. Their Alpha had chosen his mate.

She shivered at the sound. "They know."

"They know," I confirmed, my arms tightening around her. "And they welcome you."

Without another word, I scooped her into my arms and carried her to the bed, the world narrowing to the sound of her heartbeat and the heat of her body against me.