She spun. “Do not,” she said, “pull rank on me because you don’t like that I’m walking away from an argument.”
He froze, hand half-raised.
With hands that only shook a little, she reached for her coat from the peg by the door and shrugged it on.
He watched her like a man watching someone walk away from the edge of a cliff, he’d pushed them off himself.
“Dani,” he said again, and this time it was nothing but a plea. “Please.”
She paused with her hand on the handle, hearth clenching.
“You said last night you were done being that man,” she said softly, “The one who lets fear make his choices for him. Prove it. Not to me. To yourself.”
Then she opened the door and stepped out into the cold.
The slam shook the frame.
For a moment, she just stood on the porch, breath clouding in the air, heart pounding as if she’d run all the way up from town.
Inside, through the bond, she felt Arthur standing in the hallway, torn between following and staying, between alpha and mate.
She set her shoulders.
Then she walked down into the night, not running, not yet, but carrying the knowledge that for all his trying, for all her wanting, some part of him still looked at her fire and saw the thing that would burn his world down.
Chapter 16 - Arthur
Arthur woke with a headache and a hollow ache in his chest.
He’d slept, technically. Long enough to dream of the slammed door, sparks skittering over his hands, and Dani’s hair as she whipped around and strode away from him.
The bond sat low and sore under his skin, muffled on her side. Curtains drawn.
He deserved that.
Didn’t mean the summit would wait for him to sort his shit out.
He hauled on jeans, a clean shirt, his thick jumper and coat.
“You look like shit,” Chase observed from the doorway.
Arthur grunted, “You’re still breathing. Tragedy.”
Chase fell in beside him on the stairs. “I see you’re still in an excellent mood.”
Arthur only growled at his brother.
Cold slapped them as they stepped outside. Skymist lay below, roofs iced, the sea a flat strip of steel. Arthur barely saw it. His mind kept circling the conversation hehadn’thad with Dani, the apology that kept dying in his throat.
Wolves first, his father’s voice, as always.
Even me? Even her?Dani’s cutting across it.
He shoved both aside as they reached the Chilkat Inn.
Too many wolves were already there.
Nordan bodies packed the main room in tight knots, mugs clenched, voices low and sharp. The usual easy murmur was gone. The air tasted of coffee, sweat, and something sour.
