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39

Naomi

T he world feels quiet now.

Not just outside, like the quiet of the forest after a heavy rain, but the world inside my head. Ever since I followed my sister to her new pack, suspicious things weren’t going as well with her new mating, and I don’t think I was ever completely at ease.

Until now. Until Wyatt.

My wolf is curled up in contentment, stretched warm and soft in the back of my head. She’s happy and relaxed at long last.

This morning, there is no pacing. No claws scratching at the insides of my chest, the feeling that I should be doing something else. No whispered doubts, no snarled warnings about how wrong it is to be apart from our mate.

Just calm.

Sunlight filters through the cabin windows, casting a warm glow across the small kitchen where we sit.

Wyatt is across from me at the tiny kitchen table in my cabin, bare-chested, a blanket still slung low across his hips, and damp hair from the shower I insisted he take before I fed him anything. He only agreed when I promised to join him after.

Which I did.

Twice.

Now we're here, fresh, warm, and tangled up in the kind of peace that feels so good it can't possibly last. His eyes meet mine, and he gives me the slow, confident smile of a man who knows he’s keeping his mate happy. And that she’ll be sore for days.

He tears a piece of toast with his fingers and holds it out for me.

I roll my eyes. "I made that for you. I’m supposed to be taking care of you, remember?"

He grins, big and broad. “You did, and you are. And you need to keep your strength up if you’re going to take care of me again tonight.”

Despite the wolfsbane attack, Wyatt's strength has returned remarkably fast. Maggie's potent medicine, combined with my marking, seems to have sped up his healing beyond what anyone expected. Still, I can see the occasional wince when he moves too quickly, the slight pallor beneath his tan that suggests he's not quite as recovered as he pretends to be.

My gentle giant is insatiable and strangely delighted with life for a man whose spot in a competition to win a pack, to win a home for himself, has been ripped away.

When he grabs my hand and tugs me around to his side of the table, I squeal as he lifts me with impressive ease to straddle his thighs. With the toast now clamped between his teeth, he mumbles up at me, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"I'm keeping this toast unless you bite it right now."

So I do. He grins wider, eyes flashing gold for just a second.

I shake my head and snatch the rest, popping it into my mouth while he swings me around to sit crossways, so he can dig into the eggs I made him, poorly, I'll admit, but he hasn't complained once. If anything, he's eating like I served him something gourmet.

"These are the best eggs I've ever had," he says, shoveling another forkful into his mouth before pressing a tender kiss to my bare shoulder.

"Liar."

His mark throbs pleasantly on my neck when I laugh. Wyatt’s hand resting on my lower back strokes my skin as he eats some more, determined to prove me wrong.

We're always touching. As we move around the private house Dean has provided for us, conscious that a newly mated couple needs their space, we’re drawn to each other constantly.

My hand rests on his chest, his fingers tangled in my hair. His hand grazes my thigh when he reaches for his coffee. It's not only sexual, it's instinctive. Like we need the contact to stay steady. We’re still bonding. This is still new. I understand why newly mated pairs are normally left alone for their first few days. The pull between us is nearly irresistible.

This bond is new and raw and powerful, but it's right. I can feel him through it, his steady heartbeat, his quiet contentment, and the protectiveness that hasn't dulled for a second. Even as we sit here peacefully, my mate isn’t as relaxed as I am.

He’s thinking about what’s coming. About dealing with Brad, and Maddie, and the reality of him being out of the competition with nowhere to go. The reality that I’ve conveniently shoved to the back of my mind while enjoying sexy time with my man.

Wyatt's fingers trace the mark on my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Stop that," I murmur, leaning into his touch. "We'll never leave this cabin."

"That's the idea."

And it’s a great one, but unfortunately, not a luxury we can afford.

His smile drops a fraction. He takes a sip of coffee, watching me over the rim. "You okay?"

I nod. "Better than I've been in weeks."

His smile fades completely now. "Good. Because I think you should talk to Dean and Blake. Before I do."

The bite of food turns to lead in my mouth as my nerves kick into gear.

Fuck.

Wyatt doesn't press. He just sets his mug down and reaches for my hand, rubbing slow circles over my knuckles with his thumb.

"I'm not going to make you," he says. "But I think it'll be better if they hear your story from you. With Maddie, on your terms. Before Brad gets to spout his bullshit, if he hasn’t already."

I swallow hard. "What if they don't believe us?"

"Blake will believe you," he says, not a moment of hesitation. "And I'll be right outside. They already know something happened. Hell, Jax probably told them everything he had scented on Brad. You're not going to shock them, Naomi. You're just going to fill in the missing pieces. They’d be able to scent if you were lying, and Blake will command you to speak the truth if he has any doubts."

My chest tightens. "She's scared, Wyatt. Maddie's been scared for so long. And I told her I'd protect her. What if this just makes it worse? What if she ends up getting sent away? What if I do?"

He shifts in his chair and leans forward until our foreheads touch, his hands sliding around to cradle my jaw.

"You protected her," he says quietly. "She’s alive. You didn't act out of cruelty, you acted out of fear. And no wolf, alpha or otherwise, should be punished for surviving, or choosing to help her sister first, and the man that was threatening to kill her last."

I close my eyes and lean into his touch. His voice steadies me the way his body did last night, grounding. Anchoring.

A lump forms in my throat as I recall the night Rowan died. The blood on her hands and the terror in Maddie's eyes. The desperate choice I made to help her instead of him. I'd played that moment over in my mind a thousand times, wondering if there had been another way. But Wyatt's right. Rowan would have killed her. Would have killed me too, eventually, for interfering.

The mate bond tightens between us, warm and solid. This man is already my everything.

"You don't need to be afraid anymore," he murmurs. "And neither does Maddie. I’m going to make sure everything’s okay."

I exhale slowly. He’s right. We’ve already spent too long living in limbo. Enough is enough.

"I'll do it," I whisper. "Will you be with me?"

"I'll wait outside. This is your story to tell, not mine."

I nod, but my heart is hammering again. Still, I feel steadier with his voice in my ears and his scent wrapped around me. And he’s right. Everything I’ve seen of Dean and Blake leads me to believe they won’t accept Brad’s lies just because he’s an alpha.

Wyatt reaches for my plate and takes a bite of my toast without asking. I nudge his foot under the table, and he just grins.

"Thief," I mutter, but can't keep the smile from my face.

"Well, you are mated to a feral rogue. What did you expect?" He winks, and it's so ridiculous, I can't help but laugh.

I lean forward and steal a sip of his coffee. His eyes follow the movement, darkening slightly as I lick my lips.

"You're really not upset?" I ask after a long pause. "About being knocked out of the competition? About Brad trying to pretend you attacked him?"

Wyatt's expression turns thoughtful, his fingers absently tracing the scar forming on his back where the wolfsbane knife had pierced him. "I won't pretend it doesn't sting. I came here to prove myself, to show everyone I wasn't just a dangerous rogue. That I deserved a chance."

He looks at me then, his dark eyes intense. "But maybe this is my chance, just not the way I expected."

I grin at him, this gentle giant who knows exactly the right thing to say to ease my worries.

“And… maybe it isn’t so bad if my mate becomes the leader, and I get to be a kept man instead."

I blink at him. "But…"

He can’t mean that. He had plans, lots of plans, to open the doors to other rogues who are homeless through no fault of their own. Wyatt wanted to help bring the Anderson pack back into the fold after the previous ruling family ruined their reputation.

"I've already got everything I want. The rest will come."

His tone is simple. Honest. There's no bitterness in it, just certainty that everything will work out fine in the end. Amazing for someone who’s had the bad luck and harsh treatment that he has.

I've never met anyone like him.

He shrugs, tossing his fork on the plate. "You want to win this thing? I'll be right here cheering you on. You want to walk away and build something new with me somewhere else? I'm already packed. I don't care what it looks like to anyone else. You're mine now. Your mate is the only title I need."

It's so casual. So matter of fact.

I don't realize I'm crying until he's brushing away the tears with his thumb.

"Naomi," he says softly, lips brushing my cheek. “Come here," he murmurs, pulling me tighter against him. “I’ve got you.”

I go willingly, curling against his chest, ear pressed to his heart. His arms wrap around me, secure and warm. His heartbeat syncs with mine. Steady. Strong.

"Remember that first day?" he asks quietly, his voice rumbling pleasantly beneath my ear. "When you came up to me after that woman touched me? Your eyes were so blue, and you were standing there with your friends, and you could have just ignored me like everyone else. But you didn't."

I smile against his chest, remembering the electrifying moment our eyes met. "My wolf knew immediately. She was furious."

"Mine too," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my hair. "I nearly tore her hand off."

The memory of how far we've come, from strangers at the edge of a competition field to mates ready to face alphas together, settles something deep in my soul.

"We're going to be fine," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Trust me.”

When I tilt my face up to look at him, he kisses me properly. Slowly. Thoroughly. Like we have all the time in the world.

And we do.

Because whatever happens with Dean and Blake, whatever comes next in the Games, we'll face it together.

I pull back, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips. "I love you, you know."

His smile is blinding. "I love you, too."

And as we sit there tangled in each other's arms, with half-finished plates cooling beside us, I feel something settle deep inside me.

We're stronger now. Together. And I’m not scared of Brad any more.