My blood pack is standing in the tree line in the early light, having tracked my scent across distance and come without beingasked, ready to extend themselves to a vampire they’ve never met because pack law is absolute and because I asked it of them without saying a word.
Two packs. One mate.
The wolf in my chest lifts its head.
Not howling now.
Standing.
“Come inside,” I say. “I’ll wake her. And whatever you think you know about what a new vampire looks like, set it aside. She’ll surprise you.”
Kade’s mouth shifts at the corner. Not quite a smile, but the closest thing to it I’ve seen on his face in twenty years.
“She already has,” he says. “She’s managed six days with you without losing her mind. That’s impressive in itself.”
Brynn makes a sound that is definitely a laugh, even if she’d deny it.
I turn toward the cabin, and behind me I hear three sets of boots fall into step on the frost-hardened ground, following without being told to, the way pack follows, the way it has always followed.
The weight in my chest, the price I’ve counted and recounted in the dark hours of the last six days, is still there. It will always be there. The wolf will carry it, quietly, for the rest of my long life.
But the door of the cabin is ahead of me, warm light visible through the gap in the curtain, and on the other side of it is Charlie.
Chapter Fourteen
ROGUE
Two Days Past Deadline
The deadline Crave handed me expired forty-eight hours ago, and I wake knowing it in every part of my body. The weight of it landed the morning the blood pack arrived, when I watched Kade take the full measure of the situation and say nothing that I didn’t already know.
We are past our deadline.
Past due to show the Coven something worth keeping her alive for.
I dress in the dark, stand in the cabin doorway, and look at the room full of sleeping supernatural men who rode out here for a vampire they have no allegiance to, and the gratitude for it sits somewhere too deep for words.
Kade has plans for Charlie before dawn.
The knock comes while the sky is still the color of cold steel. When I open the bedroom door, he’s already standing there, broad shoulders filling the narrow frame of the hallway, a cup of warmed animal blood cradled in one hand. Steam curls lazily from the surface, carrying the metallic scent through the quiet cabin. He presses the cup into Charlie’s hands without ceremony.
She looks from the blood to his face, her brow creasing like she’s searching for an explanation that never arrives. Kade simply holds her gaze, steady and unwavering, the way an alpha holds ground when the rest of the forest decides to test him. There’s nothing forceful in it, nothing overtly commanding, but it carries the kind of certainty that leaves very little room for argument.
I watch Charlie hesitate, that stubborn spark in her expression flaring for a heartbeat, and for a second, I almost step in. The instinct is there before I can stop it.
Protect.
Intervene.
Do something.
But I don’t.
Kade knows exactly what he’s doing.
Charlie lifts the cup and drinks. When it’s empty, Kade takes it back and tilts his head toward the door.
Outside, the clearing is still wrapped in frost. A thin white sheen covers the earth and dusts the fallen leaves, the early morning air sharp enough to sting the lungs with every breath. Kade walks Charlie to the edge of the tree line and lowers himself onto the frozen ground across from her. With a small gesture of his hand, he motions for her to sit.
