Page 40 of Traitor Wolf (Bonded by Fate Duet #1)

Kaelric left the very next week, and I slowly began to settle into life in Hildreth. It had only been seven days since he placed his mother’s childhood home in my hands, yet every time I walked through its halls, I felt as though I were trespassing in someone else’s life.

The house was vast compared to anything I had ever known.

There was enough space for my mother to finally have her own bedroom and for each child to share with only one sibling instead of six.

I had claimed the study, turning it into my room with a bed and a desk picked up in town.

Valkaryn sat buried in a trunk in the closet, hidden from view.

I had no need of her in a place this peaceful, and looking at her only filled me with anger.

She was a reminder of what I had thrown away.

If not for her, I might have had magic now.

I might have had Kaelric. He could have had his revenge, his justice for his people.

Often, it felt like I was inhabiting a dream.

The home he had gifted us had running hot water, flushing toilets, and a wood-burning stove with an oven.

It was the sort of comfort I had only ever associated with the elites, though here it came without magic, without cruelty.

My siblings thrived in this environment.

They went to school each day, bellies full from three meals, and already I could see the weight returning to their thin faces.

In the evenings, just before sundown, they joined the local wolfkin children in a game they had invented called ‘Wolves versus Humans’.

The wolves shifted, their sleek, furred bodies darting left and right, while the human children pelted them with a soft leather ball, laughing wildly each time they managed to land a hit.

But the wolves were fast and often dodged the ball, which led to shouts of triumph from wolfkin onlookers.

The sound of their joy carried all the way to the front steps of the house.

More than once, I found myself standing there with tears in my eyes, overcome at the sight.

Even my mother looked younger, healthier than she had in years.

Having only one job allowed her the rest she had long been denied, and living in a society where food was freely shared gave her space to breathe, to grieve the loss of my father properly at last. We were no longer clawing at each hour, wondering where the next meal would come from or when the next shift would drag us away.

Life here moved at a slower rhythm. For us, it was almost disorienting.

We still hurried about instinctively, our steps faster than the wolfkin’s, as though we had yet to accept that we no longer needed to rush to survive.

Though I had not been officially assigned a job, the villagers began calling me “the helper.” Each day I walked into town, stopping at shops or the train station, asking what needed doing.

At first, they hesitated to give me tasks, wary perhaps of offending me, but I pressed until they understood.

I was not a grifter. I would earn my way.

“I’m going to go into town and grab some flour. We are running low,” I told my mother one afternoon. She sat on the porch mending Mira’s sweater, her hands steady, her expression peaceful as she listened to the sounds of the children playing in the yard.

“Okay, dear,” she said with a small smile.

The walk into town took only five minutes. The cool air nipped at my cheeks, crisp and refreshing, and I waved to my siblings as I passed them at play. Main Street was alive with the evening bustle. I slipped into the grocery store and greeted the owner warmly.

“Hey, Herb!” I called.

“Hey, Brynn. We got fresh peaches. Be sure to take some for your family,” he said, pointing to a basket overflowing with fruit, their skins flushed and swollen with ripeness.

I gathered half a dozen, still not used to the idea that I could simply take food when I needed it, no coin exchanged, no bargaining for scraps.

I filled our empty jar with flour until it was heavy in my arms. After wishing Herb a pleasant evening, I stepped back onto the street, already imagining the taste of peach cobbler.

That was when I heard my name.

“Brynn!”

The voice was sharp, familiar, and it sent a gasp flying from my throat. My grip nearly failed on the bag of groceries as I spun and found myself staring at Cassian Draven.

Two of Kaelric’s wolfkin stood at his side, massive and grim, their hands gripping the Elite’s arms behind his back as though restraining a criminal.

“He says he knows you?” Maddox, one of the guards, asked me.

I nodded quickly. “He’s with us.”

Maddox’s lip curled. “He’s a magic user,” he growled, the word spat as if it were filth.

I swallowed hard. “He is. But he helped Kaelric and me win the trials. Ask your Alpha. He will vouch for him.”

Maddox went still, his eyes glazing over as he reached out in the wolfkin way. When he blinked back to the present, his grip loosened, and Cassian stumbled free.

The moment he was released, Cassian ran to me. I set down my shopping, opened my arms and he crashed into them. We held each other tightly, both smiling when we finally pulled back.

“You’re alive!” I exclaimed.

“So are you,” he said, grinning. His face was rough, shadowed with stubble, dirt smudged into his blond hair. He smelled like the road, like someone who had survived by sheer will alone.

“Come to my house for dinner. I want to hear everything,” I said, picking up my things, catching his hand and tugging him down the lane.

One of the guards moved to follow. I turned and shook my head. “I’m safe with him.”

“I have orders,” he said simply.

My brow furrowed. Orders. Did that mean Kaelric did not trust Cassian? Strange.

We walked on, and I refused to reach out to Kaelric through the bond, even though I could have. He had made his feelings for me plain. I would not bother him for answers.

At the house, I showed Cassian inside and gave him a chance to shower.

My mother and I prepared dinner, filling the table with roast chicken, garlic potatoes, and fresh peach cobbler.

Once Cassian joined us, I couldn’t help noticing the differences as we ate.

My family devoured their food quickly, as though it might vanish at any moment, while Cassian lingered, leaving half his potatoes untouched.

My mother eyed them, then casually took his plate after he said he was finished, and popped the last few potatoes into her mouth. Here, nothing went to waste. Not ever.

As the meal wound down, I told Cassian the short, kid-friendly version of what had happened. I explained how I had won the trial but refused the magic, choosing Valkaryn instead. He read between the lines, understanding that not everything should be spoken in front of the little ones.

The children, delighted by his presence, begged him for a magic display.

He obliged, though carefully. He explained his gift was truth detection, but he could still entertain them with light.

Colors danced across the ceiling in shimmering ribbons as the children shrieked with laughter, chasing the streaks as they danced across the wall.

For a moment, the house felt filled with wonder.

When my mother sent the children upstairs to prepare for bed, Cassian and I stepped outside, settling side by side on the porch steps. The wolfkin guard lingered at a distance, watchful but silent.

“Tell me what happened after the fire,” I asked softly.

Cassian’s face darkened. “I went back into town for supplies, hoping the gates would be open. That was when I overheard Corvessa speaking to her men. She was making sure the fire consumed everything, that the Dregs could not be rebuilt.” His nostrils flared with anger.

“She admitted to starting the fire in the final trial. Before I… killed her,” I said quietly.

Cassian gasped, his eyes wide. Clearly, he had heard little news since fleeing, and I couldn’t share that in front of my siblings. I didn’t even want my mother to know I’d taken a life.

“I got your letter. How did you find out she killed your brother?” I asked.

“I confronted her. Forced her to speak. Under my magic, she admitted to it, then tried to kill me.” He tugged down the collar of his shirt, revealing a scar running along his shoulder.

“I barely escaped. Hid in the basement of my friend’s bakery until she left for the trial.

Then I sent you the letter and ran, hopping trains, hiding in villages, until I made it here. ”

I reached for his hand and squeezed. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

His fingers tightened around mine. His eyes softened, dropping to my lips in a way that made my stomach twist. I remembered when he had once asked me if I wanted to go on a date after the trials. It felt like a lifetime ago, but his eyes told me the memory was fresh for him, too.

“Kaelric and I are mates,” I blurted, pulling my hand back.

The words hung heavy in the air. Why had I said it? We were not married. The bond felt broken and fragile, but something about imagining Cassian in a romantic way felt wrong, as though I were betraying Kaelric. My heart was a tangle I could not begin to unravel.

Cassian’s face fell. “Wow, is that even possible? You’re human?”

I shrugged. “It’s complicated. I just really need a friend right now.”

“I’ll be whatever you need me to be,” he promised, voice steady.

My chest tightened. That promise carried more weight than the words themselves. He was telling me he could be more if I wanted, but that he would remain my friend if that was all I could offer.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He was a good man. He always had been.

“Do you want to stay with us? You can have my room. I can bunk with my mom,” I offered.

He nodded gratefully. “If it’s no trouble, that would be great. My back hurts from sleeping on the ground for?—”

The guard cleared his throat, stepping closer. His sharp hearing had clearly caught every word.

“Cassian is not to stay inside your home for the night,” he announced.

I frowned. “Says who? This is my house. I can invite anyone I want to stay.”

“We have prepared a place for him. I will escort him there now,” the guard replied, ignoring my protest.

Heat rose in my cheeks. Was I truly not allowed to choose who could enter my own home?

Cassian sighed. “Jealous Kaelric. Some things never change.”

I froze. Jealous? No. That was impossible. Kaelric had made his feelings clear. Still, the thought unsettled me.

Embarrassment burned hot on my skin, so I forced a laugh. “See you tomorrow? Come for breakfast. We will have leftover peach cobbler and fresh eggs.”

Cassian’s smile was genuine. “Sounds great. I’m so glad to see you, Brynn. News in the small villages was scarce. I had no idea if you had survived.”

“I’m here. Safe and happy,” I said softly.

He glanced up at the house, nodding with a mixture of admiration and regret. “Kaelric did right by you and your people. He gave you more than I ever could have.”

Sadness laced his tone, and I reached out again, my voice gentle. “Will you stay in town a while?”

He considered. “Now that I know Corvessa is dead, I’ll get word to my mother and see who has taken over as magistrate in Aerlyn. Maybe I’ll go back and try to change things.”

“That would be nice.” Aerlyn needed change.

He nodded once. “Night, Brynn.”

“Night, Cassian.”

Watching him leave, a strange peace settled inside me. Seeing him alive and safe soothed a wound I had not realized was still bleeding. It felt as though Cassian, Kaelric, and I had all survived a war together. Though the battles had ended for some of us, Kaelric’s war was only beginning.

I chewed my lip, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

Valkaryn spoke then for the first time since I’d threatened to melt her down.

‘Go to him. He needs you.’ She whispered from where she was shoved inside the trunk in my room.

I sighed.

Kaelric had made his bed, and I was going to let him lie in it.