Page 16

“Stay with me, Voss,” I muttered, more desperate than I wanted to admit. I couldn’t look at his face. Not while I was this scared.

His hand found mine, weak but insistent. “You got it, Sterling.”

The words settled something inside me. He wasn’t dead.

Yet. I worked faster, tearing off my shirt and shredding it to make bandages.

Not exactly first aid 101, but it would have to do until the wolf magic in his veins could speed up the healing.

The bleeding slowed, then finally stopped.

Tristan lay back, breathing labored yet steady.

But I didn’t miss his eyes roaming my chest and the black and blush lace bra I’d left myself in.

“You’re a stubborn bastard, you know that?” I said, relief creeping in where panic had been.

He chuckled, a sound that sent warmth spiraling through me. “Takes one to know one.”

The cave wrapped around us, intimate and ancient, with barely visible carvings etched into the stone. Symbols that reminded me of the stone circle, faded and mysterious. The scent of earth and minerals hung in the damp air, and I wondered what this place had seen, what secrets it held.

“Quite the love nest you found,” Tristan said, his voice teasing but worn.

“Who said it’s for you?” I shot back, though the effect was ruined by my shaking hands. I wrapped the remains of my shirt around his shoulder, tying it tight. “You know this means we’re stuck here, right? Those guys are still out there.”

I met his eyes, intense and blue, watching me with a focus that made my skin flush. He nodded, the seriousness returning.

“It’s safe for now,” he said. “They won’t expect us to double back.”

His confidence should have annoyed me, but instead it calmed the storm in my chest. We’d escaped. We were alive. For how long, I didn’t know, but I’d take what I could get.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to yell for help?” I asked, settling down next to him.

“And risk a pack war?” Tristan shook his head, wincing a little. “Not unless you want to give my beta another reason to hate you.”

The mention of Ewan made me flinch. I was almost starting to miss him and his sunny personality.

Tristan must have noticed, because his gaze softened. “He’s loyal to a fault,” he said. “But you’ve probably figured that out already.”

“He’s a pain in the ass is what he is,” I replied, but there was no real bite in my words. I looked away, not wanting to let the conversation veer too close to things that scared me more than arrows. “And he’s right. Your pack would do better without me messing it up.”

The silence that followed was different this time, not awkward or tense but heavy with things unspoken. The chill crept back in, and Tristan shifted, sitting up despite my protest.

“I grew up on that mountain,” he said. His tone was flat, but the kind that had sharp edges if you listened close. “Forced to watch my father treat his pack like pawns on a chessboard. As if family was everything, but somehow nothing at all. I swore I’d never be that kind of alpha.”

I watched him, unsure what to say. His jaw was set, and I could see how hard it was for him to admit even that much.

“I know exactly what you mean,” I said softly. “But you’re not him.”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Tristan replied, voice low, almost to himself. Then his eyes met mine, searching. “What about you? What’s it like to be the outcast of Silver Ridge?”

That made me laugh, bitter and short. “If only it were that glamorous. Try the cursed beauty, destined to die alone.”

I shouldn’t have said it. Once the words were out, I wanted to take them back. But Tristan didn’t flinch. He just listened, the way no one else ever had.

“You’re not alone now,” he said, simple and true.

That did something to me, unraveled something I’d been holding together for too long.

We sat like that, surrounded by stone and shadows, both of us nursing old wounds and new. The air chilled further as night crept in, and I fought the urge to shiver.

“We should start a fire,” Tristan suggested, his arm moving to reach for something to burn. I pushed him back down with a look.

“Not if it means you bleeding out again.” I took my own advice and leaned against him, feeling his body tense then relax at the contact. “This will have to do.”

The warmth of him, of us, seeped through me. Our breath mingled in the cool air, and for the first time, it felt okay to just be. Together, in this strange in-between space that was neither pack nor war.

“You’re freezing,” Tristan said, moving his good arm to pull me closer.

“So are you,” I replied, settling against his chest.

The nearness was dizzying. Intoxicating. Our hands brushed again, no accident this time. The touch was tentative, almost shy. I felt his fingers against my cheek, then ghosting down to my lips. My own hand found its way to his chest, resting there where I could feel the steady thump of his heart.

His fingers brushed my lips, and I wanted to run. Not from him—but from what I already knew: once I kissed him, there was no going back. No pretending this didn’t mean everything.

I shouldn’t have wanted this. I shouldn’t have wanted him. But when his hand brushed my cheek, the fear unraveled faster than I could stop it. I leaned in, not because I was sure—but because for once, I wanted something just for me.

We didn’t say anything, but we didn’t have to. The silence was loud enough.

Then, slowly, Tristan tipped my chin up, and the world tilted with it. His eyes held mine, speaking volumes that left me breathless. He leaned in, pausing just long enough for me to meet him halfway. Our lips touched, soft and electric. Then all at once, the floodgates opened.

The kiss was deep and demanding, like years of questions finally being answered.

His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer.

I pressed against him, careful to avoid his injury but not wanting any space between us.

I tasted the fire and the fear, the danger and the promise.

Everything I hadn’t let myself want until now.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and surprised, a faint light danced in the darkness. Our birthmarks glowed when we touched, casting an iridescent light that shimmered like it had a life of its own. We stared, first at our marks, then at each other.

The glow pulsed in time with our heartbeats, casting pale light across the cave walls. For a moment, it felt like the mountain was breathing with us. Like it had been waiting for this.

Something clicked in my chest. A memory—no, a warning. A voice echoing from the dream I barely remembered: One must choose. One must lose. My hand trembled. I didn’t know what I’d just chosen. But I felt it. I’d already made it.

“It’s true,” Tristan said, voice tinged with wonder and something else. “It’s really true.”

And it was. As soon as Tristan’s lips touched mine, it was like an instant knowing in my soul. That this alpha from a rival pack, a wolf who was marked just like me, was destined to be my mate. Fated. I nodded, still reeling from the kiss, from everything.

“I guess we are cursed after all,” I said, though the words had lost their sting.

We didn’t know what it meant, not really. But for once, it felt like maybe there was a chance. I should’ve been terrified. I still was, a little. What would this mean when my father found out? When my pack learned I’d kissed the enemy? But none of that mattered here. Not yet.

I pulled his arm tighter around me, feeling Tristan relax as he leaned back. I followed, wrapping myself into his warmth. He held me there, close and unguarded, until the glow of our marks faded into the night.

I should have been uneasy. Torn, conflicted, unsure. And I was. But more than that, I felt something new. Hopeful.

Morning dripped into the cave, cold and slow. Voices floated from outside, and I was instantly awake. Urgent, low voices that shouldn’t have been there. I held my breath, heart pounding, feeling Tristan’s arm heavy across my waist. I had to get free. I had to know who was out there.

His grip was protective even in sleep, a warmth I could have sunk into if everything wasn't suddenly so wrong. I wriggled away, each inch a struggle against the tangle of my own feelings. As soon as I was clear, I crouched low, listening hard.

The voices were muted by the walls but close, too close for comfort. I couldn’t catch the words, only the tone—tense, conspiratorial, nothing I wanted to hear with Tristan so vulnerable beside me. My skin prickled, and I inched toward the entrance, staying low and quiet.

The cave was dim, its shadows longer and colder than the night before. I crept forward, the ancient carvings like ghostly reminders that we were never really alone here. The voices grew clearer, one of them unmistakable.

“Ewan.” The name hit me like a fist to the chest. I didn’t need to see him to know that voice. But what the hell was he doing out here? And why didn’t I feel relief—just fear?

Through the veil of vines, I saw them.

Ewan stood with a hooded figure, the morning light casting them in silhouettes that seemed larger than life.

That voice. Smooth, sharp-edged, and familiar in a way that made my stomach twist. I didn’t have a name, but my bones remembered it—and they wanted to run.

They were close, talking with a kind of urgency that only came with secrets.

My pulse quickened. I stayed hidden, barely breathing, willing myself to catch what they were saying.

Ewan gestured sharply, his movements angry and frustrated.

I strained to hear, edging forward, knowing how stupid it was to put myself at risk of being seen.

But I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not with them so close, not with everything suddenly on the line.

I tuned into my wolf senses and sharpened my hearing to make out the words they spoke.

“...alpha is getting too attached to the girl,” Ewan said, his words clear and cutting.

I froze, heart skipping. They were talking about Tristan. About me. But who was this other guy?

The hooded figure didn’t flinch, his stance as calm and sure as Ewan’s was agitated. His voice was low, chillingly familiar in a way that tightened every nerve in my body.

“Everything is proceeding as planned. The stones will soon be ours.”

The words sent a jolt through me. Whoever he was, he thought he had this under control.

Was he talking about the same stones my pack tried to steal?

The ones they captured me over? As they spoke, my wrist tingled.

Not a burn, but a cold pulse under my skin, like the mark itself was listening.

Like the mountain didn’t want me to miss what was happening.

I leaned in too far, too eager. A loose rock shifted beneath my hand, clattering down the cave wall. The sound echoed like a gunshot, and I stilled, breath locked in my chest.

Their conversation cut off abruptly. Both men turned toward the noise, scanning the area. I ducked back into the shadows, panic spiking. Had they seen me? Was it too late to warn Tristan? I inched away from the entrance, every instinct screaming to run, to hide, to do anything but freeze like this.

The silence stretched thin and brittle. Then I heard it again, their voices retreating, quieter, more cautious.

“Someone’s onto us,” Ewan said, the words carrying back to me on the cold air.

“Doesn’t matter,” the other man replied, a certainty in his tone that made my skin crawl. “We’ll take care of it.”

I waited until they were gone, until even the whisper of their presence faded from the woods.

My heart wouldn’t slow, pounding out a rhythm of fear and confusion.

Ewan’s betrayal was almost too much to wrap my head around, and the other voice—it tugged at something deep, something I didn’t want to look at too closely. Not yet.

I forced myself back to Tristan, where I found him still asleep, unaware of the storm raging just beyond the cave. Just beyond me. I settled beside him, every part of me tangled in knots that had nothing to do with the curse.

He shifted, pulling me close again. His touch was unconscious, but it grounded me, reminding me of the hope I’d felt the night before. The hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a way through all of this.

I should’ve shaken him awake. Should’ve told him that everything we’d just started to believe in might already be unraveling. But the weight of his arm, the peace on his face—it silenced me. What if waking him meant ending this?

But now everything was upside down, a mess of doubt and danger that left me raw. Was Ewan just playing Tristan all along? And the other man—did my father know he was here, making deals with the enemy? Was that his plan all along? Was that why he’d let them take me so easily?

The questions ate at me, a relentless churn of suspicion and betrayal.

I wanted to wake Tristan, to tell him everything.

To scream that I didn’t care, that I’d choose this—us—over anything.

But something held me back, a shadow of hesitation that felt too much like the past. Maybe this was all another trap I’d find myself in with no way out.

I lay there, stuck between hope and despair, caught in a web I couldn’t yet unravel. The cave grew colder, the light creeping in around us, turning night’s magic into morning’s doubt. And still, despite it all, I found myself wanting.

Wanting the truth. Wanting to belong. Wanting him.

The cave grew colder as morning pressed in, turning night’s magic into doubt. I didn’t know what would come next, only that the words haunted me still: “The stones will soon be ours.” And for the first time, I didn’t know whose side I was truly on.