Page 22

22

REYES

L ast night felt like a dream—one I didn’t want to wake from.

…but now comes the hard part: telling the rest of the pack.

I assume most of them already know what happened. Discretion? That went out the window the moment Tilda and I stopped pretending we could resist each other. We weren’t exactly quiet, and wolves have sharp ears. The whispers were probably circulating before the sun even rose.

Still, knowing isn’t the same as accepting. This is bigger than just us; it’s about their Prime taking a mate. I need their trust in this decision, and I need them to trust her.

Heading to the common area, I brace myself. It’s early, and most of the pack is still shaking off the night’s festivities, but Will is already at his usual table. His movements are deliberate, unhurried, as he cradles a small, cherished cup of coffee in his hands. A thermos sits beside him, and I can practically smell the rich aroma from across the room. Coffee is a rarity these days, a luxury we only manage to get through favors and trading.

He acts like he’s so tough and stoic–but he’s got a soft side to him, and a head for poetry. Will must’ve charmed it out of someone on his latest supply run.

He notices me lingering by the entrance and raises a hand in a subtle wave—his way of saying he’s open to conversation without demanding it. That’s Will: always leaving the door cracked just enough for someone to step through.

I cross the room, feeling the weight of the morning settle into my shoulders. This is the first step, I remind myself. One step, one conversation, one ally at a time.

“Morning,” Will says as I sit across from him. His tone is neutral, but his sharp gaze flicks over me like he’s piecing together a puzzle. “Coffee’s still hot, if you want some.”

“I might take you up on that,” I reply, offering a faint smile. “Looks like you’ve been up for a while.”

“Didn’t sleep much,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Celebrations are noisy. Plenty to think about.”

I nod, appreciating his straightforwardness. “Same here.”

Will raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into what might’ve been a smirk. “So…you and Tilda.”

Straight to the point. That’s Will for you. I let out a breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah. Me and Tilda.

He doesn’t say anything; a sense of shame floods me, and I screw my face up as I stare down at the table. “Feels like it was inevitable, doesn’t it?”

Will shrugs. “I still want to believe that we aren’t beholden to our inner monsters, but maybe I was wrong.”

“It wasn’t my wolf that decided,” I say. “It was all me. Full, human consent.”

I can tell he doesn’t believe me, and that hurts. Will is one of the only others here who’s chosen never to take a mate, and I know it’s partially because he doesn’t trust his wolf. I don’t know exactly what happened, but he lost someone thanks to his darkest impulses.

He fights the monster inside every day.

Finally, he looks up, his expression hard to read. “Out of everyone here,” he says quietly, “I always believed you would be the one to resist.”

His words land like a blow, sharp and unexpected. I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. I just watch as he leans back in his chair, running a hand through his graying hair.

“It makes me wonder,” he continues, his voice low and tinged with something bitter, “if this is all pointless. If we’re all just fooling ourselves. Maybe it doesn’t matter how hard we fight it. Maybe we’ll all be animals in the end, no matter what.”

“Will…” I start, but he holds up a hand, silencing me.

“No, let me finish,” he says. “I’m not saying this to hurt you, Reyes. It’s just…when someone like you gives in, it shakes the foundation for the rest of us. You’ve always been the example. The one who stays steady. The one who doesn’t let the wolf win. And now…”

He trails off, his gaze dropping back to the table, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the wood grain.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “I didn’t give in, Will. This isn’t about the wolf winning or losing. It’s about…choice. Tilda is my mate, yes, but I chose her. Not because of instinct or biology or fate, but because I want her. Because I love her.”

Will opens his mouth to say something thoughtful, I’m sure, but before he can speak, a big hand slaps me on the back. I grunt as Grant slides into the seat beside me with what I can only describe as a cackle.

“My man,” Grant says. “Who knew the virgin had it in him?”

“Not a virgin,” I grumble.

“Don’t care,” Grant says. “What a way to prove your sexual prowess to the pack, dude.”

“Can’t say I appreciate that, or that I take it as a compliment,” I glare.

“Just saying, even if they hadn’t talked to Tilda yet, everyone here knows what her voice says like now,” Grant grins. “Am I right?”

He extends his hand for a fist bump and I just glare at his knuckles.

Will rolls his eyes. “Have you spoken to anyone else yet?”

“Just you two,” I admit. “I was hoping to get some advice from my most trusted friends. Should I make an announcement to the pack, or talk to people one by one?”

Grant grins, already leaning forward. “Oh, make an announcement. Bake a damn cake. Scream it from the rooftops.”

“Don’t do that,” Will says, shooting Grant a look like he’s lost his mind. “For the love of God, don’t do that. Talk to a few people first—Mateo, Suyin… and especially Frankie.”

I groan, running a hand through my hair. “She’s angry, isn’t she?”

“I haven’t seen her since last night,” Grant says. “She ducked out after the wedding, maybe to go hunting.”

“Do you think she’s planning something?” Will asks.

Grant snorts. “Like what? She’s just cranky, and the pack is all she has. Where would she even go?”

“I’m less concerned about where she would go than what she might do to Tilda,” I murmur.

“I get the feeling Tilda can look after herself,” Will says. “And remember—Frankie has been through things we don’t know or understand. Chances are she’ll come around. She didn’t even speak the first three months she was here.”

I nod. “I’ll track her down and talk to her first. Then the rest of the pack…?”

“I can’t think of anyone else who has a problem with her,” Will shrugs.

“Kinda weird how she just…fits in, actually,” Grant says. “You think we can like, smell personalities or something?”

Will rolls his eyes, but I can’t help but laugh…because I don’t think Grant is that far off.

* * *

I find Frankie about an hour later, returning from the woods. She’s got blood on her hands, but I scent it immediately as animal and not human—from what I understand about her history, she survived on her own after making a dangerous crossing from Europe during the New Crusade. Sometimes, she disappears for days into the woods, so the fact that she’s come back is already a good sign.

She grimaces when she sees me walking across the prairie as she hops over the perimeter wall, nodding her head at the alpha keeping watch. There’s blood on her hands and mouth, the white top and shorts she’s wearing stained with it. Frankie scowls and crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her chin to meet my gaze.

She’s smaller than me, but not so small as not to be a threat. And I’ve seen her fight—she’s tough.

“You already know what I want to talk with you about, don’t you?” I ask.

She narrows her eyes. “You’re taking in the Crusader.”

“Not taking in,” I say. “She’s joining our pack. She has a lot to contribute.”

“You don’t think she’ll just immediately run off and tell her people how to hurt us?” Frankie says. “I know people like this. They can’t be trusted.”

“And I know her,” I say. “Trust me—the New Crusades did horrible damage to my family. The Heavenly Host’s armies killed most of them, and separated me from my niece. But Frankie…I can’t deny the will of the mating bond. You should know that.”

“I don’t believe in forgiveness for something like that,” Frankie snarls.

“Maybe you’ll understand one day when you find your own mate,” I say.

“If I find my own mate.”

“Fine—if,” I say. “The bottom line is that she’s staying. If you want to challenge me on it, you can, but I’ve already spoken with a few other alphas and you know they’re on my side.”

“So I don’t have a choice in the matter,” she says.

“You have the choice to stay and come to terms with it, or to leave the den,” I growl.

I pause, startled by my own words. I’ve never issued an ultimatum like this before—never drawn a line in the sand when it came to the den’s leadership. I’ve always worked to maintain harmony, to guide without force. But now? Now I have something, someone, to protect. Tilda is my family. My mate. And if I don’t stand firm, no one else will.

“There’s just one problem with that,” Frankie says with a cruel smile. “Her people know she’s alive, and they’re going to want her back.”

I stop myself from lunging for her, from taking her neck in my hand and gripping it tight. “You told them?”

“No,” she says. “I didn’t have to. They’ve been out surveying the den—caught sight of a man and young woman watching from their horses last night. I think it’s her sister.”

Enid…I should have known this would be a problem. If Tilda is so strong-willed, her sister can’t be much better.

“Shit,” I say. “Just the two of them?”

“For now,” Frankie says. “I followed them back to their little town, though, under the Curtain. There’s at least two hundred of them there, and they have guns…lots of them. Now that they have an inside man, they could probably tell how few wolves we have. And with only twenty or so alphas…”

“They’ll fight for her?”

Frankie grimaces. “All we have is each other,” she says, her British accent rough. “Wouldn’t you fight for someone stolen by the other side?”

Her words sting, but she’s not wrong. If the roles were reversed, I’d do the same thing. But this isn’t just about Tilda anymore. It’s about the den, about survival. And now that Tilda and I have bitten each other, there’s no undoing the bond. I can’t send her back. She belongs here now.

“We should go talk to them,” I say. “See if we can make peace. I’ve set up a connection in the city who can get us a steady supply of medicine, and I know they need?—”

“You’re a fool, Reyes,” Frankie interrupts. “These people are not our friends. They’re Crusaders.”

“They’re just trying to survive, like the rest of us.”

“They fly the Heavenly Host’s flag over their settlement,” she says. “If you think talking to them is a good idea…well, I might not have to supplant you after all. If you go there, you’ll die.”

I cross my arms over my chest, lifting my chin. “They’re in our territory,” I say. “The Host has abandoned them. If they’re clinging to scraps of power, it’s because they don’t have anything else. We can offer them something better.”

Frankie steps closer, her gaze steely and unyielding. “You can try,” she says, her voice low. “But when they kill you, Reyes, I’ll be taking over. And don’t expect me to clean up the mess you leave behind.”

I don’t flinch. “If they were capable of tuly challenging us, they would’ve attacked already–but Tilda was the only one willing to take action, and she’s here now, with us,” I say, my voice firm. “We’ll extend the olive branch first. If they reject it…then we’ll deal with the consequences.”

Frankie narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but she doesn’t push further. Instead, she gives me a curt nod. “It’s your call, Prime,” she says. “But don’t expect me to bury you with honors.”

She turns on her heel and stalks away, leaving me standing in the common area, the weight of her warning hanging heavy in the air. I glance toward the corridor leading to my room—where Tilda is waiting, where the scent of her lingers like a promise.

I have to make this work. For her. For the den. For all of us.