Page 166 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

The word still didn’t feel like mine. The bond disagreed. It had been quiet all afternoon, not weak and not asleep, but settled into something low and steady after the night before. That was its own problem. My body remembered Ian with a detail my mind had not approved. His hands. His mouth.The way his heart beat under my palm when I slept.

That didn’t belong in this moment, so naturally, it was everywhere.

Sava tucked the whistle cord into my pocket. “If you need me, use this.”

“If I’m actively being eaten, I may forget the whistle.”

“Try not to.”

“Excellent medical plan.”

Her mouth twitched once, then went serious. “Cassie.”

I looked at her.

“Do not try to be brave in a way that gets you killed. Hide. Move when you have to. Let Ian find you.”

“Letting a man find me after running into the woods feels like the kind of advice women are usually told to avoid.”

“In most circumstances, yes.”

“Good to know we’re all aware.”

Sava’s hand closed briefly around mine. The contact surprised me enough that I had no joke ready.

“Live first,” she said. “Argue after.”

My throat tightened.

“Fine,” I said. “But I’m planning a lot of arguing.”

“I assumed.”

Ronan approached then, his face cut from the same stone as the walls around us. “He will find you.”

“That sounded almost reassuring.”

“It was tactical.”

“Ah, there he is.”

Something moved behind his eyes, too quick to name. “Cassie.”

I waited.

Ronan lowered his voice. “I tried to have the challenge delayed. Malrec objected. Old law favored him.”

“Old law seems like it needs to trip down stairs.”

“Yes.”

That startled me. No sarcasm. No cold correction. Just a soft agreement.

The gate creaked open and a guard stepped forward. My pulse began to climb. The bond answered from somewhere far across the course, fierce and immediate.

Ian.

Not words. Not exactly. Certainty. Focus. Rage locked behind control. He knew my fear.