The forest did not let us rest.
Not fully.
Even after the Alpha vanished into the trees, his presence lingered like the echo of thunder—felt rather than heard, vibrating faintly through the bond that no longer ruled me but refused to disappear.
I sat near the fire again, knees drawn up, fingers loosely clasped around a tin cup Rowan had pressed into my hands without ceremony. The liquid inside was warm and faintly bitter, grounding in a way I hadn't realized I needed.
No one rushed to fill the silence.
That, more than anything, told me I was safe.
Silas paced the perimeter with slow, deliberate steps, senses stretched outward. Rowan leaned against a tree, arms crossed, expression lighter than it had any right to be after the confrontation we'd just survived. Alaric crouched near the fire, adjusting the logs with careful precision.
I watched him without meaning to.
The way his hands moved—steady, unhurried. The way he was fully present without needing to dominate the space. He didn't watch me constantly, didn't hover, didn't withdraw either.
He existed with me.
That awareness slid through me, warm and unsettling.
"You're staring," Rowan said mildly.
I looked away instantly. "I am not."
Rowan grinned. "Sure."
I rolled my eyes. "You're unbearable."
"And yet," he replied cheerfully, "you haven't told me to leave."
Silas snorted quietly from the shadows.
Alaric didn't look up, but the corner of his mouth curved faintly.
The bond stirred—not sharply, not violently.
Curious.
Testing.
I exhaled slowly.
"What happens now?" I asked.
Silas answered without hesitation. "We move. Dawn or before."
"North?" I guessed.
"Yes."
Rowan tilted his head. "Unless you want to double back toward pack territory."
I didn't.
"No," I said. "North is fine."
Alaric glanced at me then. "There's a crossing near the ridge. Old trade route. Abandoned, but defensible."
"That sounds comforting," Rowan said dryly.
"It is," Alaric replied. "If you know how to read the land."
"I'll take your word for it, pretty boy."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Careful."
Rowan grinned wider. "Make me."
I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips despite myself.
The bond pulsed again—softer this time.
The Alpha was no longer close enough to intrude.
Good.
Later, when the fire burned lower and the forest settled into its deeper rhythms, Alaric approached quietly and sat beside me. Not too close. Just within reach.
"You handled that well," he said.
I studied the flames. "I didn't feel like I had a choice."
"You did," he replied gently. "You chose yourself."
The words settled into my chest, heavy and warm.
I hesitated. "You didn't stop him."
Alaric nodded once. "You didn't need me to."
"No," I admitted. "But… thank you for being there anyway."
His gaze softened. "Always."
Something inside me tightened.
Not fear.
Awareness.
The bond reacted—not violently, but attentively, like it was recalibrating around a truth it hadn't anticipated.
Silas returned from his patrol then. "Tracks."
Rowan straightened. "Fresh?"
"Very."
I stiffened. "Pack?"
Silas shook his head. "No. Not organized."
"Rogues," Rowan muttered. "Or worse."
Alaric rose smoothly. "How many?"
"At least four. Maybe more."
The forest seemed to close in slightly.
I stood. "They followed us?"
"Possibly," Silas said. "Or they were already here."
Rowan cracked his neck. "Either way, that complicates things."
The bond flickered—alert, unsettled.
Not the Alpha.
Something else.
"They won't reach us tonight," Alaric said decisively. "But we don't stay here."
"How long do we have?" I asked.
"An hour," Silas replied. "Two if we're lucky."
Rowan looked at me. "You good to move?"
"Yes," I said immediately.
No hesitation.
Alaric's gaze met mine briefly, something like approval flickering through his eyes.
We moved quickly, the camp dismantled in practiced silence. Rowan extinguished the fire thoroughly, scattering ash and dirt until no trace of warmth remained. Silas led, senses sharp. Alaric stayed close—not hovering, just there.
I was acutely aware of him as we walked.
The brush of air when he shifted closer.The warmth when our arms nearly touched.The way my body reacted—not with panic, not with submission—but with quiet anticipation.
That scared me more than Kael ever had.
Because this felt… good.
We reached the ridge just before dawn stained the horizon faint gray. The crossing was narrow, stone worn smooth by centuries of passage, the drop on either side steep enough to deter pursuit.
Alaric paused, scanning the path ahead.
"Once we cross, we don't stop," he said. "Understood?"
We nodded.
I took a breath.
The bond pulsed again—uneasy now.
The Alpha felt the distance.
The loss.
I didn't answer him.
We crossed quickly.
Halfway through, something shifted behind us.
Silas's hand came up. "Stop."
I froze.
The forest went unnaturally still.
Then—
A sound.
Low. Deliberate.
Not wolves.
Rowan's grin vanished. "That's not pack."
Alaric moved instantly, positioning himself slightly in front of me—not blocking my view, just creating a barrier that felt instinctive rather than possessive.
"How many?" I whispered.
"Too many," Silas replied.
The bond flared sharply—alarm this time.
Not the Alpha.
Something hungry.
Rowan's voice dropped. "We've got company."
Shapes moved in the trees below—figures circling, testing, waiting for a mistake.
My pulse quickened—but I didn't panic.
I felt grounded.
Present.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked.
Alaric glanced at me. "Stay close."
I nodded.
Not because he told me to.
Because I trusted him.
That realization sent a slow, dangerous warmth through me.
The bond reacted violently then—confused, unsettled by the shift in allegiance.
The Alpha stirred on the other end, too far to intervene, too close to ignore.
Good.
The figures below advanced cautiously.
Rowan cracked his knuckles. "Guess negotiations are off."
Silas drew his blade. "We hold the ridge."
Alaric glanced at me once more. "If things go wrong—"
"They won't," I said quietly.
He studied my face, then nodded.
The fight never fully came.
The rogues tested the crossing, realized the cost, and withdrew into the trees with low, frustrated growls.
Tension bled away slowly, leaving my limbs trembling—not from fear, but adrenaline.
Rowan let out a breath. "Well. That was rude."
Silas sheathed his blade. "We move now."
As we walked on, the sky brightened, dawn breaking fully over the ridge.
I slowed slightly, breath steadying.
Alaric matched my pace instantly.
"You're shaking," he observed softly.
"I know," I replied. "It's not bad."
He hesitated—then offered his hand.
Not demanding.
Not urgent.
Just there.
I looked at it for a long moment.
Then I took it.
His fingers closed around mine—not tight, not claiming.
Warm.
Present.
The bond screamed.
Not pain.
Not jealousy.
Panic.
The Alpha felt it.
Felt the shift.
Felt the truth settle into his bones.
I did not pull away.
And in that quiet space between breaths, between danger and safety, between past and future—
I realized something profound.
I wasn't running anymore.
I was choosing where to stand.