I pick up a cookie and nibble on the soft sugary edges, my mind turning over half a dozen teasing questions that would pull us back into safer territory, a space that feels less intense than this emotional undressing, less like the careful unbuttoning and baring of everything I’ve kept locked away.
But I don’t actually want that.
Standing here in one sock, warmth curling around me, firelight dancing on the walls, and this beautiful man watching me like I’m worth all the truths in the world, I might finally be ready for the change I’ve spent so long avoiding. Maybe the sky outside isn’t the only thing breaking open.
“What’s the real reason you’re not with your pack?”
His grin fades, and he drags a hand through his thick hair. “I suppose it’s only fair I get a question like that after the one I asked.”
“We’ll see if your answer is worth my sweater.” I bite my lower lip and hold up the treat in my hand. “If it’s really good, I’ll even give you a cookie.”
The corner of his mouth quirks like he’s about to lean into the playfulness, but the teasing fades from his eyes, replaced by something heavier.
“I was supposed to be Alpha, and an Alpha needs?—”
“A mate.”
“Yeah.” He gives a short, humorless laugh. “I didn’t look for anyone before that. Didn’t have time. I was too busy taking care of the pack, fixing what needed fixing, being the one everyone leaned on. I just assumed that when my turn came, fate and the Elders would handle the rest like they had for the Alpha before me and the one before that…”
He exhales slowly, gaze dropping to the floor as if the memory is written in the whirls of the pine.
“I shifted at Solstice, declared my desire for my fated mate. Apparently, fate had other plans. It skipped me. Passed right over, like I wasn’t good enough. Maybe I wasn’t. I don’t know.”
The silence stretches. The fire pops.
“Doesn’t matter.” His jaw works, the muscle ticking. “It ended the same. No mate. No divine blessing. No symbol of unity or good example for the pack to follow. No Alpha.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I say. “They shouldn’t have made you leave the pack.”
When his gaze finally finds mine again, his eyes are storm gray shot through with something fragile. “They didn’t kick me out. I left. I hadn’t earned the right to lead a pack.” He lifts a broad shoulder and lets it fall. “So I came here.”
For a long moment, neither of us speaks, and all I can hear is the steady thud of my own heartbeat.
“You know,” I say softly, “for someone who thinks he didn’t earn the right to lead, you still carry yourself like you never stopped.”
His brow creases. “What do you mean?”
“You still act like an Alpha.”
His brows lift, faint surprise flickering across his face.
I gesture at him with my cookie in hand. “You invited me into your place after I assaulted you, made sure I didn’t freeze to death, and now you’re letting me stay in your cabin, no questions asked. Well, except for these.” I shrug. “If that’s not leading by example, I don’t know what is.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but the words don’t come.
“You’re still an Alpha,” I murmur, quieter now. “Just one who’s been hurt.”
His eyes darken, and he takes a step forward. “Emme…” The way he says my name—low and rough and nearly a growl—turns every nerve in my body electric.
I swallow hard. “I think you earned the whole shirt.”
I lift the sugar cookie to my mouth and hold it between my teeth as I tug my sweater over my head. The air hits my skin, warm from the fire as I toss the sweater onto the couch where it lands with a soft thud. I finish the cookie, sweet sugar clinging to my lips.
Crumbs dust my chest, catching in the pink lace of my bra. Without thinking, I trail a finger across my skin to brush themaway, then bring that same finger to my mouth, licking away the last bits of sugar.
When I glance up, West is watching me. The silver glint in his eyes catches the light, flickers once, then spreads until both irises glow like molten steel.
Something primal in me answers. My breath stumbles, my heart beating hard against my ribs. Every inch of my skin feels too tight. My fox stretches, a purr rising in the back of my throat.
