Page 39 of Trusting Her Mate

“Adjudicator,” Alpha Mercer says. “We request formal scent verification. If the bond is legitimate, we will withdraw our claim.”

If. The word hangs in the air like smoke.

Gavin nods once. “The female will be assessed independently. Without her mate present.”

Boone’s hand presses harder against my back and the bond flares with his resistance.

“Without her mate,” Gavin repeats. “To ensure the bond scent is hers, not layered.”

Meaning Boone’s scent is so thick on me that Gavin needs to separate us to tell what’s mine and what’s his. The thought sends a hot flush through my cheeks.

Boone’s jaw turns to iron. “She doesn’t go anywhere alone.”

“She will not be alone,” Gavin says. “Your Luna will accompany us. I require a female witness.”

Caine nods and Peyton steps forward, but Boone doesn’t move. His hand stays on my back. Through the bond, I feel his wolf clawing at his ribs, every instinct screaming not to let me out of his sight.

I turn to face him. His eyes are pure gold, his wolf right at the surface, and the fear underneath the fury makes my chest ache.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

“Wren...”

“Peyton will be with me. Gavin is neutral.” I press my palm flat against his chest. His heart pounds under my hand. “This is the part where you trust me.”

His jaw works and the bond twists with his resistance. He cups my cheek and kisses me fiercely before he nods once and steps back. His hand leaves my back. The absence is immediate, a cold spot between my shoulder blades.

I walk with Gavin and Peyton toward the far side of the clearing, where the tree line offers privacy. My bare feet cross through grass and pine needles. Behind me, I feel Boone’s attention like a physical weight.

Gavin stops near an old oak. He turns to face me. His expression is carefully neutral, but his nostrils flare as he scents the air.

He’s quiet for a long time. “Peyton,” he says. “You are witness?”

“I am.”

“You are satisfied the female is not under duress?”

Peyton’s gaze finds mine. Steady. Warm. “Wren. Do you consent to this assessment?”

“Yes.”

Gavin steps closer. Not invasive but professional. He breathes in, and his eyes narrow. “The claiming mark is fresh,” he says. “Within twenty-four hours.”

“Yes.”

“The bond scent is strong. Sealed and mutual.” He pauses. “But there is something else. An herbal residue. Faint, but present. A blocker.”

My stomach drops. “I was drinking scent-blocking tea before I arrived. I stopped days ago. It’s still clearing my system.”

Gavin studies me. “Why were you taking blockers?”

“Because I was running from a male who wanted to track me by scent. Because I didn’t want to be found.”

He absorbs that. “The blocker could mask a forced bond, make it difficult to determine if the female’s scent matches the male’s naturally or artificially.”

“But the bond is real,” Peyton says.

Gavin holds up a hand. “I am asking the female.”