The library found Ashina on the eighth day or maybe she found it hard to say when she'd been wandering the manor's endless hallways with no destination in mind, just desperate to escape the four walls of her room before they suffocated her completely.
The door stood ajar, revealing floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with books. Sunlight poured through tall windows, illuminating dust motes that danced like tiny stars. The smell hit her immediately old paper, leather bindings, that particular mustiness of well-loved pages. Ashina stepped inside and felt something in her chest unclench for the first time in over a week.
She pulled a novel at random from the shelf some fantasy epic with a dragon on the cover and sank into a window seat worn smooth by years of use. The story swept her away from mate bonds and forced markings and the constant hum of Kendrick's presence at the edge of her awareness.
Hours dissolved. When Zara's voice finally broke through, announcing lunch with all the subtlety of a freight train, Ashina blinked at the sun's position in genuine surprise.
"There you are! Been looking everywhere." Zara bustled in with a tray, her curls escaping their braid. "Maria said you missed breakfast. Again. At this rate, we're going to have to start an intervention."
"I ate yesterday."
"One meal doesn't count." Zara set the tray down with a pointed look. "Your mate's going crazy feeling your hunger through the bond, by the way. Man can barely focus in meetings."
Ashina's stomach clenched whether from actual hunger or the mention of Kendrick, she couldn't tell. "That's not my problem."
"Isn't it? Bond goes both ways." Zara dropped into an adjacent chair, utterly unrepentant. "Look, I'm not saying you owe him anything. What he did was shit. But starving yourself just makes both of you miserable, honestly? That seems exhausting."
The blunt assessment startled a laugh out of Ashina. "You don't pull punches, do you?"
"Life's too short for dancing around things." Zara's grin turned sympathetic. "Eat. I'll keep you company. Unless you want me to leave?"
"Stay."
So Zara stayed, chattering about pack gossip while Ashina worked through the sandwich. Something about wolves courting, pups being born, a minor territorial dispute with the neighboring Crescent Pack that Kendrick had apparently resolved through what Zara called "scary diplomatic competence."
"He's good at that, actually. The talking thing." Zara examined her nails. "Everyone assumes he's all growl and Alpha commands, but the man would rather negotiate his way out of a fight any day."
Ashina filed that away and said nothing.
After Zara left, she returned to her book. But her gaze kept drifting to the windows overlooking the grounds, where pack members moved with purpose she no longer had. Maybe tomorrow she'd venture outside. Just to walk. Nothing more.
The next morning, Ashina woke to birdsong and made a decision that she couldn't hide forever.
The territory was stunning she could admit hat without it meaning surrender. Rolling meadows gave way to dense forest, wildflowers carpeting the hills in riots of color. The air tasted different here, cleaner somehow, carrying scents of pine and earth and growing things. Pack members she passed nodded respectfully "Luna" but didn't try to engage beyond that. Small mercies.
Her feet carried her toward sounds she hadn't consciously registered shouting, laughter, the rhythmic thuds of bodies hitting packed dirt. The training grounds materialized around a bend, a massive clearing where wolves in both forms practiced combat.
Ashina's first instinct screamed retreat but curiosity won out. She slipped behind a thick oak at the clearing's edge, hidden but able to observe.
Kendrick stood in the center of controlled chaos, working with a cluster of teenagers who moved with all the grace of newborn deer. Ashina braced for the harsh drill sergeant routine she'd always imagined Alphas used. What she saw instead made her forget to breathe.
"Eli, watch your footwork." Kendrick's voice carried without shouting. "You're telegraphing your next move. Like this, see?" He demonstrated in slow motion, breaking down the technique into manageable pieces. "Feel the difference?" The gangly boy tried. Failed. His face flushed with embarrassment. Kendrick didn't snap or sigh or show even a flicker of impatience. "Again. You almost had it." Three more attempts. Each one met with gentle correction, encouragement, adjustment. On the fifth try, Eli nailed it.
"There." Kendrick's smile transformed his entire face. "That's exactly right. Now fifty reps until your muscles remember." He moved to a small girl struggling with a takedown meant for someone twice her size. Instead of forcing her to adapt, he knelt to her level.
"You don't need to match their strength, Mira. Speed and intelligence beat brute force every time. Let me show you a variation."
Ashina watched him cycle through each teenager with the same focused attention. Correcting without criticizing. Teaching without intimidating. Treating each student like they mattered not just as future warriors, but as individuals worth his time. The kids didn't fear him. They adored him. Worked themselves to exhaustion for his rare praise.
This wasn't the man who'd chased her through the forest with predator's eyes and inevitable intent. This was someone who cared about the next generation. Who invested hours in teaching not just combat, but critical thinking, adaptability, protection of the vulnerable. Kendrick suddenly went still, his head cocking slightly. Scanning. Ashina retreated before he could pinpoint her location, pulse hammering.
Two days later, an argument erupted in the market square.
Ashina had been walking with Zara heading toward the lake, though she'd never admit she was starting to enjoy these daily outings when shouting drew them toward a crowd.
Two men stood nose to nose, faces red, gesturing wildly. Something about fence repairs and property boundaries and who owed whom money. "Oh good, Marcus and Joel are at it again." Zara sighed. "They do this monthly. It's like clockwork." before Ashina could ask what that meant, Kendrick appeared through the crowd. "Enough." Not shouted. Just stated with enough authority that both men fell silent mid-sentence. He looked between them, expression neutral. "Marcus. Joel. One at a time. And I mean one at a time, no interrupting."
They each presented their side. Kendrick listened without cutting them off, asked clarifying questions, treated both men like their concerns mattered even if the dispute seemed petty. "Show me the fence," he said finally. The whole group moved Marcus, Joel, Kendrick, and a handful of curious pack members including Ashina and Zara trailing behind. Kendrick examined the fence line, pulled up property records on his phone, traced the boundary with meticulous care. His ruling came quickly, shared fence, split repairs, clear boundary marked by the old oak tree just as pack records indicated.
"Fair?" he asked both men. They nodded, tension draining from their shoulders.
"Good. Next time, come find me before it escalates. We're pack, we work these things out like family." He walked away, and Ashina caught something in his posture. A tightness. An exhaustion that had nothing to do with the physical.
"He does this constantly," Zara murmured. "Three, four disputes a week. Some Alphas delegate to council members. Kendrick insists on handling them personally. Says pack members deserve to be heard by their Alpha."
"That's..." Ashina struggled for words. "A lot."
"Yeah." Zara's expression turned thoughtful. "That's why Luna exist. to share the weight."The implication hung between them. Ashina pretended not to hear it.
The kitchen happened almost by accident.
Maria appeared at Ashina's door one afternoon, flour dusting her apron, practical kindness in her weathered face. "You look like you need something to do with your hands. I need help with dinner prep. Sound fair?"
Ashina should have said no. Should have maintained her distance, her protest, her refusal to integrate into pack life but her hands did itch for familiar work and sitting alone with her thoughts was slowly driving her insane.
"When do you need me?"
The kitchen was organized chaos massive and industrial, designed to feed hundreds. Maria's small team moved with practiced efficiency, making space for Ashina without fuss or fanfare.
"You've done this before," Maria observed, watching Ashina's knife work.
"My mom taught me. She runs a bakery." The word bakery stuck in Ashina's throat, coated in homesickness.
"Well, she taught you well." Maria slid more vegetables her way. "You talk to her much?"
"Every day." Ashina focused on her cutting board. "Promised my dad I would."
They fell into comfortable silence. No probing questions. No therapy disguised as conversation. Just the simple companionship of shared work chopping, mixing, the familiar rhythms that quieted her racing mind.
When Ashina finally left hours later, her shoulders felt looser. Her hands steady. Something about productive work, about creating rather than stewing, had eased the constant pressure in her chest.
She didn't let herself think about how Kendrick's presence had flickered with surprise when he'd somehow sensed where she was. How that surprise had morphed into something warm before he'd deliberately pulled back, giving her space even in his own awareness.
Later that night, Ashina pulled out her phone.
The message thread with Darren stared back at her weeks of texts from her, sparse responses from him.
"Miss you. How are you doing?"
"Fine."
"Can we talk? I could really use a friend right now."
"Busy."
"Please. Just five minutes."
"Can't. Later."
Later never came.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She should let it go. Should accept that whatever she'd thought they had was gone probably had never existed in the first place but some masochistic part of her needed to know.
"Was any of it real? Just tell me that much."
The response came an hour later " You're mated to an Alpha. You're set for life. Does it really matter?"
Ashina stared at those words until they blurred. Set for life. As if being marked against her will, bound to someone she hadn't chosen, trapped in a golden cage somehow made his betrayal irrelevant. She deleted his contact. Blocked the number. Removed every photo from her phone.
The hollow feeling in her chest should have felt like victory. Instead, it just felt empty.
A knock at her door made her jump. But when she opened it, the hallway was empty. Just a tray of tea and cookies, still warm, with a note in Maria's handwriting Saw your light on. Thought you might need this. Not from Kendrick. From the pack. Ashina brought the tray inside and ate while staring at her ceiling, feeling the bond hum with Kendrick's concern from wherever he was working too late.
Three weeks blurred together in a routine that almost felt normal.
Mornings in the library, losing herself in stories. Afternoons in the kitchen, her hands busy and her mind quiet. Evenings on her balcony, watching the territory settle into night. Zara's daily visits, no longer feeling like intrusions. And always, constantly, the bond made her aware of Kendrick.
She started noticing things. Small things. Things she didn't want to notice and definitely didn't want to care about. Like how he barely slept. She'd wake at 2 AM for water and feel him still working, exhaustion dragging at the edges of his consciousness like weights. Like how he skipped meals. The bond would pulse with a hunger he was ignoring, too focused on pack business to stop for something as basic as eating. Like how he shouldered everything alone. Every problem, every decision, every burden he handled it all personally, never delegating, never resting.
One night she found herself thinking Someone should make him stop. Make him rest but Why do I care if he runs himself into the ground?. But she did care. The bond made it impossible not to feel his exhaustion, his hunger, his relentless drive to be perfect for everyone except himself. She hated that she noticed. Hated that it bothered her. Hated that some treacherous part of her wanted to do something about it.
The howl shattered the night like breaking glass. Ashina jerked awake, heart pounding, the sound resonating through her bones in a way that had nothing to do with her ears and everything to do with the bond thrumming in her chest.
She stumbled to the balcony, drawn by something she couldn't name. In the forest beyond the manor, a black wolf stood silhouetted against the full moon.
He threw his head back and howled a sound so full of loneliness it made her chest physically ache. Not a call to hunt. Not a warning. Just pure, distilled grief given voice.
The bond opened like a floodgate. Isolation surrounded by three hundred wolves and utterly alone. No one to share the weight with. No one who saw past the Alpha to the man underneath who was slowly breaking under the pressure of being strong for everyone else. Longing for connection with a mate who hated him. For the bond to bring comfort instead of serving as a constant reminder that he'd destroyed any chance of being truly loved. Guilt crushing and unrelenting, eating at him like acid. Every moment of her hatred, her pain, her resentment flowing directly into him through the bond he'd forced into existence. Exhaustion soul-deep and absolute. The kind that came from carrying everything alone with no end in sight. Other pack wolves joined his call, offering solidarity. But the bond told Ashina their comfort didn't touch the emptiness inside him. Couldn't fill the space where his mate should be. He needed what she couldn't give.
The howl ended. The wolf stood with head bowed, sides heaving, before shifting back to human form with defeated slumped shoulders. Kendrick felt her watching. His embarrassment crashed into her being caught vulnerable, exposed, weak. She felt him shove the grief back down, rebuild his mask, lock everything away behind Alpha composure. By the time he reached the manor, the bond showed only careful control again. But Ashina had felt the truth. She returned to bed on shaking legs, her mind spinning.
He was suffering. Really suffering. The bond worked both ways, he felt every moment of her hatred, and it was slowly destroying him. Yet he still got up every morning. Still led with patience and fairness. Still protected everyone while falling apart inside.
It didn't excuse what he'd done. Nothing could excuse that. But it complicated everything.
She'd convinced herself she was the only victim. That Kendrick had gotten exactly what he wanted his mate, marked and bound. But that wasn't what he'd wanted at all. He'd wanted her to choose him. Wanted the bond to bring them together naturally. Wanted love, not forced proximity.
He'd destroyed the very thing he needed most. They were both trapped. Both suffering. Both paying the price for his terrible choice in different ways.
Ashina lay in the dark, listening to Kendrick's quiet sobs echo through the bond from his room down the hall. Alone. Always alone. And something shifted in her chest. Not forgiveness, she wasn't ready for that. Not acceptance of what he'd done. But understanding. Complicated, unwanted understanding that he was human. That his love was real even if his methods were unforgivable. That maybe there was a way forward that acknowledged both her pain and his humanity. She didn't know what that looked like yet. But lying there, feeling her mate break apart alone through the bond neither of them wanted, Ashina felt something crack in the wall around her heart. just a hairline fracture. But enough to let in a sliver of light she wasn't quite ready to face.