Page 18 of When Two Worlds Collide (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #1)

Elder Riva speaks from her position beside the fire. “Alpha, regarding negotiations with Ambassador Steelclaw—has all progress been lost?”

I sense my pack watching me, many suspicious. They recognize the mating bond—impossible to conceal among wolves. They question my judgment, my loyalty.

“Ambassador Steelclaw continues advocating for our territorial rights,” I say carefully. “She believes alternatives to the Alliance ultimatum might exist.”

“You believe her?” Marcus challenges. “After her council threatened our destruction?”

“I believe she honors her word,” I reply evenly. “Whether her council listens remains uncertain.”

Elder Kota taps his walking stick against the ground. “The bond influences you, Alpha. Natural, but dangerous in these times.”

“My judgment remains clear,” I insist. “I remain Shadow Wolf Alpha first. Always.”

The elders exchange glances, unconvinced. I understand their skepticism. The mating bond constantly affects me now, especially after our forest conversation. Ember intrudes on my thoughts at inappropriate moments—I wonder about her reactions, her opinions. Distracting and hazardous.

“We prepare for war,” I tell the pack, “but remain open to alternatives. Double hunting parties to stockpile food. Move cubs and elders to the northern ridge cave system. Strengthen defensive positions. ”

The pack disperses purposefully, each member understanding their role. Only Marcus remains beside the fire.

“You’re meeting her tonight.” Not a question.

“Yes.”

“What if she plans an ambush? What if she collaborates with the council to locate our emergency shelters?”

“She fought beside us against her own people,” I remind him. “She deserves consideration.”

Marcus repeats the word distastefully. “Trust. Wild wolves rarely extend that.”

“These circumstances differ from normal.”

He shakes his head. “Be very cautious, Alpha. The mating bond creates vulnerability to her influence. When forced to choose between you and her people—and she will face that choice—remember where her loyalties lie.”

I dismiss him with a gesture, but his warning echoes as I walk our camp perimeter. The pack prepares for war—sharpening weapons, reinforcing defenses, organizing supplies. Good wolves, strong and loyal. They followed me from ancestral domains, trusting me to lead them home.

What if I lead them toward destruction instead?

The northern border rests quietly beneath a waxing moon. I arrive early, checking for traps or ambushes, finding only familiar forest sounds. No sign of Alliance forces or hidden weapons.

Ember arrives precisely at midnight, alone as promised. She wears practical clothing—dark pants and a jacket that wouldn’t hinder shifting. Her auburn hair pulled back emphasizes her face’s sharp lines. Moonlight highlights her wild qualities rather than her civilized ones .

“Thank you for coming,” she says.

“What information do you bring?”

“Not here.” She glances around. “Follow me.”

She guides me deeper into neutral territory, to a small clearing with a fallen log. From a hidden hollow in the trunk, she retrieves a rolled map and several documents.

“The Alliance lacks unity,” she explains, spreading the map between us. “Dragons want immediate military action. Vampires prefer containment and isolation. The shifter council remains divided.”

“How does this help my pack?”

“Division creates opportunity.” She indicates marked sections. “These areas—here, here, and here—received official acknowledgment as Shadow Wolf territory in pre-barrier treaties. Kade and I gathered evidence.”

I examine the map, noting it includes approximately half our claimed territory. “Insufficient.”

“Consider it a beginning,” she insists. “A legal precedent. If the council acknowledges these historical boundaries, we can negotiate expansion rather than fighting for basic recognition.”

“And other wild clans? Stormcrow’s bears?”

Her expression darkens. “The bear chief complicates everything. But if your pack demonstrates peaceful integration, it establishes a model for others.”

“Their leader ignores models or anything peaceful.”

“Then he becomes the exception, not the rule. The Alliance focuses on him, not you.”

I walk the clearing, considering her proposal. Clever, politically strategic—dividing opposition, distinguishing between wild clans, establishing legal precedent. Very civilized thinking .

“Additional information exists,” she says. “The bear clan moves westward.”

I stop walking. “Toward us?”

“Yes. My sources observed them crossing Silver River yesterday.”

This changes everything. Stormcrow approaching my territory indicates one thing: a challenge. His bears consider themselves supreme predators of the ancestral domains. They allow no competition.

“How many?”

“At least sixty warriors. Unknown number of non-combatants.”

A significant force. My pack numbers eighty-three total, with only forty-five trained fighters.

“Why tell me this?” I ask. “Your council would prefer we fight each other. Reduce our numbers.”

“Because I want no more bloodshed,” she says simply. “Not settler, not wolf, not bear.”

I study her moonlit face, seeking deception but finding none. The mating bond complicates objective assessment. However, my wolf instincts detect no dishonesty.

“Stormcrow never stops,” I tell her. “He ignores borders or treaties. He takes whatever he wants and destroys everything else.”

“Then help me stop him. Work with Haven’s Heart to contain the bear clan specifically, not all wild clans.”

“You want me to ally with your people against another wild clan?” This concept violates everything wild shifter solidarity taught me.

“I want you to survive,” she counters. “And help innocent people survive as well. Isn’t that what an alpha does? Protects?”

I feel her words challenge my fundamental identity. An alpha protects the pack above all else. But “pack” has developed an increasingly complex meaning since meeting Ember Steelclaw.

“I must consult my elders,” I say finally.

“We lack time. The Alliance council reconvenes at dawn to finalize containment protocols. If I propose an alternative, I need your answer tonight.”

A howl breaks the silence—one of my scouts signaling urgency. From the pattern, I recognize Lena’s voice.

“Stormcrow’s bears,” I translate for Ember. “They’ve crossed into our eastern territory.”

Her face pales. “Already? They move faster than anticipated.”

“They hunt at night,” I explain, already moving toward the sound. “We must go.”

“I’m coming with you.”

I turn to object, but she interrupts.

“If I’m convincing the council to target the bear clan specifically, I need firsthand intelligence. And if our packs cooperate, they need to see us working together.”

Her logic sounds valid, though every instinct urges me to keep her away from danger. However, Ember Steelclaw has proven herself no defenseless civilized shifter.

“Stay close,” I tell her. “Stormcrow’s warriors won’t distinguish between diplomats and combatants.”

We run through the forest, my wolf senses guiding us toward Lena’s position. Ember maintains pace effortlessly, her fire panther nature evident in fluid movement. Despite our dangerous situation, I admire her speed and silence.

We locate Lena perched in a tall pine, observing a bear clan war party moving through the valley below. I signal her to descend, and she drops soundlessly beside us .

“Alpha.” She acknowledges me respectfully, then regards Ember suspiciously. “Ambassador.”

“Report,” I order.

“Twenty warriors, moving in formation. Scout pattern. They search for something.”

“Our main camp,” I suggest.

Lena shakes her head. “Their trajectory seems wrong. They head toward the eastern settlement.”

Ember tenses beside me. “Clearwater Crossing. Three hundred people live there, mostly farmers.”

“How far?” I ask Lena.

“At their current pace, they’ll reach it before dawn.”

This threatens to become another massacre. I turn to Ember, whose expression hardens with determination.

“I must warn them,” she says.

“You’ll never reach them on foot.”

“I’ll shift.”

“Even your panther cannot outpace bears through unfamiliar territory.”

She meets my gaze steadily. “What do you suggest?”

I make a decision likely to complicate my position with both pack and council. “We warn them together. My wolves know shortcuts through these forests that even bears cannot navigate. Lena, return to camp. Tell Marcus to prepare warriors but maintain position until I return.”

Lena hesitates, visibly uncomfortable with my plan, but finally indicates agreement. “Yes, Alpha.”

When she departs, Ember looks at me with surprise. “You’re helping a settlement?”

“I’m preventing a massacre that others would blame on all wild shifters,” I correct. “Practical strategy, nothing more. ”

Her slight smile suggests disbelief, but she presses no further. “Lead the way, Alpha.”

Moving silently through the night forest, I realize how dangerously close we approach the line Marcus warned about—where pack loyalty blurs with mating bond influence. I justify this as a strategic necessity for survival.

But watching Ember match my stride beneath moonlit branches, I cannot deny the truth any longer. Wild or civilized, ambassador or alpha, something fundamental has changed between us. Something neither tradition nor duty fully controls.

And with Stormcrow’s bears approaching innocent settlers, we will soon discover whether that change saves our people or destroys them.