Page 27

27

LOGAN

T he moon was high, spilling its pale light over Orion lands with a peacefulness that only the Shadow Moon Goddess could give, but I couldn’t sleep.

Not with her so close.

From across the village, I felt her unrest, a faint ripple of energy tugging at me like the pull of a distant tide. Eve was pacing in the bungalow. The muffled sound of her footsteps reached me through the quiet night, her movements restless, as though her thoughts had tangled themselves into knots she couldn’t undo.

My wolf stirred, his irritation flaring. Go to her. My wolf was annoyingly insistent. Soothe her.

“I’m not soothing anyone,” I muttered under my breath, pushing the heel of my hand against my temple. He didn’t care.

Touch her , he pressed, his tone turning carnal, possessive. Claim her. She’s ours .

“Enough,” I snapped.

The silence that followed was deafening, but my wolf wasn’t gone—he was just waiting, watching, smug in the knowledge I wasn’t getting any sleep either.

I threw off the covers, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and sat there for a long moment, staring at the shadows stretching across the floor. I couldn’t ignore her presence. Couldn’t ignore her .

I dressed quickly and slipped out of my cabin into the night, the cool air brushing against my skin. I calmed my heartbeat and silenced my steps. The last thing I needed was to face Rhys or one of the others right now. I carefully took a back pathway, one I knew well from my childhood that led to the bungalow.

It had been my grandparents’ home once, a place that smelled of a crackling fire and baking bread, where the walls echoed with laughter and the occasional reprimand when we were caught raiding the fridge. I remembered climbing the roof with Rhys, Wyatt, and Nash, daring each other to jump off to see who’d chicken out first. This house had been a place of safety, a haven of unyielding love, even when we’d pushed every boundary.

How I’d loved my grandparents.

How I missed them.

They were taken in one of the first raids during my father’s alpha reign. The bungalow had been empty of residents all these years, as no one dared to step into it, knowing what the place had been to our family.

When Eve arrived, I knew right away. It was hers.

My mate.

The word still felt foreign, wrong in my head. Everyone knew the Great Separation shattered the concept of fated mates, severing bonds that had once been undeniable and absolute. Fated mates were myths, relics of a time long gone.

So why did every part of me—every instinct, every nerve, every ounce of my being—rebel against that knowledge?

It’s no mistake , my wolf growled, his confidence irritating me.

“She’s manipulative,” I murmured. “She’s played me, lied to me…” I trailed off, unsure of who I was trying to convince.

Even as I thought it, I couldn’t reconcile those actions with the woman I’d seen these past days—the woman who resisted Grayson’s commands, who carried a weight in her eyes that spoke of wounds far deeper than the ones on her skin.

I stopped outside the bungalow. Everything about it was familiar and yet it was like a foreign land. She was inside.

Mine .

Her pacing slowed, then stopped altogether. I closed my eyes, attuning myself to the faint shift in her energy. I sensed she was lying down, her breaths evening out.

And that scent.

Shadow Moon Goddess, save me. That scent .

I approached the bungalow, making sure my steps made no sound in the shifting dirt. I had to be closer.

Her scent was even more powerful than before. How could that be? It wove into my brain and held me hostage until I recognized it.

Arousal .

I moaned despite myself, clapping my hand over my mouth like a teenager who had been caught, but Eve didn’t stir. Whatever was happening within her, it was silent and beyond my knowing.

Though it wreaked havoc in me.

I leaned my back against the wall, letting the bricks press through my shirt. I welcomed the light pain. Because this—smelling her, sensing her, knowing she was feeling something like what I was feeling… This was torture .

Take her , my wolf demanded. I was too overcome by the sheer simplicity of knowing she was right there . He was restless. I was…

At peace.

Every cell in my body wanted her, was desperate to burst through those doors and forget everything we’d lived through these last days, just let the world fall away and create what was always meant to be between us.

But I was afraid. If I was wrong, and this magical moment were to break…

I wanted to stay here a little longer.

She cleared her throat and I jolted back into my body, my raging erection reminding me that I was still hiding outside the place where she was supposedly sleeping.

Something else—a subtle force—pushed against me. I blinked, not quite believing it.

I felt her command, a quiet dismissal.

She knows , my wolf said, his tone bristling with annoyance. She’s sending us away.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. Alpha or no alpha, my mate had made her wish clear, and my soul felt the demand to respond. Whether it was deliberate on her part or not, I couldn’t tell, but the pull to stay had dulled, replaced by a quiet urging to retreat.

For now.

I stood there, torn between the past this house carried and the future it might hold. With a heavy sigh, I turned and walked back into the night, my wolf snarling as I went.

The morning air was crisp as I walked, yet again, toward the bungalow. My wolf grumbled quietly, still sulking from the night before.

She’d sent me away, and I’d gone, tail tucked, like some green pup who couldn’t handle the weight of his instincts. I hated it—how she seemed to have control over me without even trying.

I paused at the front steps and drew in a long breath. As I raised my fist to knock, the door swung open, and there she was.

Eve looked relaxed, as if she’d been expecting me. Her lips curved in a knowing smile, but there was something in her eyes—a glint—that made my stomach flip.

She wasn’t wearing her usual flowing dresses or delicate fabrics. Instead, she was draped in Orion clothes: a simple tunic and leggings that fit her like they were made for her. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, curling softly at the ends, and I couldn’t look away.

“You’re staring.” Her voice was light, and it snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Oracle Eve,” I said, and cleared my throat, feeling heat rise to my neck. “You look…” I trailed off, searching for the right words.

She raised an eyebrow. “Like an Orion?”

I shifted my weight, trying to focus. “It suits you,” I admitted, hoping she couldn’t see how off-balance I felt.

Her laughter was soft, and I hated how much I liked it.

I straightened, pulling myself back to the reason I’d come. “While you’re on Orion territory, you’ll be safe.” I remembered what I’d planned to say. “That’s a promise. But that doesn’t mean you can relax while everyone else is working.”

The teasing glint in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a flash of irritation. She crossed her arms, the fabric of the tunic shifting with the movement. “I never asked for royal treatment,” she retorted.

Her comment landed harder than I expected, but I held my composure.

“Good,” I said, nodding with finality. “Follow me.”

I turned and started walking, trusting that she’d come. And she did, falling into step behind me.

We walked through the village from the bungalow, which stood at the far edge, all the way to the common kitchen. I knew the pack would see her with me, and I wanted them to. It was important that they knew she was with me, that her presence was expected and that they shouldn’t do anything rash. We walked in front of the office block, the provisions store, the school. Many heads raised and I felt their curiosity, but so far, there was nothing outright offending. For that, I was relieved, though I knew it wouldn’t last.

The pack’s common kitchen buzzed with its usual mix of clattering pots, bursts of laughter, and the occasional heated debate over seasoning. It smelled of home—roasting meats, fresh herbs, and the faint earthy undertone of a wood-burning stove. It was alive with a hum of activity, since this was how our pack ate all its meals. Together.

I stood in the doorway, scanning the room. The staff, mostly older wolves who devoted themselves to tending to the pack’s hearth, paused when they noticed me. Their chatter quieted, their eyes casting toward Eve as she stepped in behind me. She looked out of place, standing stiffly by the counter.

“Alpha,” one of the older women greeted me, with a polite bow of her head. She looked at Eve, curious but cautious.

I didn’t explain anything. Instead, I strode to the counter, grabbed a freshly hunted rabbit, and dropped it in front of Eve with a satisfying thud . She jumped slightly, staring at the lifeless form in front of her.

“Skin it,” I said simply, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter.

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“You’re in a pack of hunters now,” I replied evenly. “Everyone pulls their weight.” I said it more for the benefit of the pack than for her, though her sharp inhale told me Eve didn’t know that.

She glanced at the kitchen staff, who were trying—and failing—not to watch. Slowly, she reached for the rabbit. Her fingers hovered above it, curling back as if the fur itself might bite her. I took the appropriate knife off the counter and passed it to her.

“I’ll figure it out,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. Her tone was stubborn, but her hands shook as she took the knife from me.

She made an awkward attempt at cutting into the skin in mid-air, and I bit back a smirk. She then set it down on the counter, but her grip was all wrong, her movements hesitant and jerky. It was painful to watch. I let her struggle for a moment, but it was clear she had no clue what she was doing.

“You’re holding the knife too tight,” I said, leaning closer.

“I said I’ll figure it out,” she replied, glaring at me.

“If you could do that by the next full moon, that would be great,” I shot back. I needed her, and everyone else, to know I took her presence here seriously, and they should do the same.

“Alpha,” a deep voice interrupted. One of the older kitchen workers, Saul, stepped forward. His lined brow furrowed. “You’re not being fair. She’s an oracle who’s landed amongst hunters. Let me show her the ropes.”

I stepped back, gesturing for him to go ahead.

Saul turned to Eve, addressing her quietly. “Here, miss. Let me show you.”

Eve hesitated, as if her pride was warring with her obvious frustration. Then she handed Saul the knife, stepped aside, and let him take the lead. He picked up the knife, his hands moving with practiced ease as he made a clean incision along the rabbit’s belly.

“It’s all about the angle,” Saul said, gesturing for Eve to come closer. “Hold the knife like this. You don’t want to hack at it; you want to glide.”

Eve leaned in, watching Saul’s every move like her life depended on it. I found myself observing her, the way her focus sharpened. The pack bond whispered around me, faint impressions from the kitchen workers filtering through. Curiosity. Skepticism. A twinge of approval.

“You listen well,” Saul said, handing her the knife. “Now you try.”

Eve nodded, her hands steadier this time as she followed his guidance. The cut wasn’t perfect, but it was better. She didn’t look at me, her attention locked on the task.

I felt a strange pull watching her, which I tried to put aside for the sake of playing my role as alpha in front of the pack.

My wolf, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She belongs here , he whispered, the smug asshole.