Chapter 5

Aiden

When the long snow line along the border came into view, my heart sank. An early winter meant shorter days and longer nights—which meant more hunters, more vampire attacks, and more casualties for the pack.

The most recent attack had occurred three days ago.

Near Outpost Three on the border, we'd found one corpse and one wounded. The dead wolf's hind leg had been severed by a silver-laced trap; the poison had spread from the wound, charring the entire limb black. The survivor had been shot clean through with a silver bullet. Though it had missed vital organs, the damage was severe.

Cowards. They only dared strike at night.

But this was the season for stockpiling supplies, not for waging war.

I tightened my legs around the horse's flanks, urging it faster. The estate's silhouette flickered in and out of the distant snowfall.

By the time I finally reached the manor, night had fallen completely.

The last heat had been too intense—it had left my body exhausted and Ansel drowsy. But the moment the horse's hooves struck the stone pavement of the front courtyard, he lifted his head sharply.

His awareness surged through my consciousness, every muscle in my body suddenly taut.

I didn't need to ask what he'd scented.

A faint fragrance seeped out from within the manor. It was so subtle it barely existed, yet as sharp and unmistakable as a blade.

Rose and sandalwood.

I jerked the reins. My throat worked involuntarily, blood rushing to my head.

Ansel and the horse both let out a snarl.

I closed my eyes for a moment, growling low in warning.

He settled, but his golden eyes burned in the depths of my mind, fixed on the south wing of the manor.

He wanted to tell me that Mira was there.

I'd known she'd made some kind of deal with Eliya, but I hadn't expected Eliya to agree so quickly.

Who cares about deals? Ansel muttered restlessly. I just want to see Seraphina.

Either way, we need to figure out what's going on first, I murmured.

I handed the horse to the stablehand and headed straight for the main hall to find Eliya.

Dining with family after a border patrol was a rule my father had established while he was alive. After his death, I'd kept it out of courtesy. But the tradition had long since turned hollow.

The hearth burned low, just enough to warm the table's immediate vicinity. The tapestry on the wall was one my father had left behind—embroidered with the totem of the Iron Claw tribe.

This table was only used when the two of us ate together.

It was oak, large enough to seat eight.

But we each sat at opposite ends.

In front of Eliya sat an untouched glass of dark ale; her silverware lay neatly aligned along the edge of her plate.

I sat down, poured myself a drink, and watched her in silence.

The silence between us was never awkward. It was a threat—a blade each of us held to the other's throat.

Whoever spoke first revealed what they wanted from this meal.

Halfway through my venison stew, Eliya finally broke the silence.

"Patrol go smoothly?"

"The border's been restless," I said. "Hunters set an ambush near Silver Mine Gulch. I've already sent the injured patrolman back."

"I know. Silver bullet wound, clean through. But he's out of danger now."

She lifted her glass and took a sip.

"Who treated him?"

I looked at her over the rim of my own glass, already knowing the answer.

"The young wolf doctor who's taking over for Mark. I've placed her in the south wing."

Interesting. So the woman had exploited a job opening to slip through the cracks. She was well-informed. And more surprising—Eliya had agreed.

If she'd managed to convince Eliya, she had some skill.

"I don't recall approving any new appointments," I said evenly.

"I made the call. Winter's coming, and there's hunter activity on the border. We couldn't wait any longer."

I should have been furious.

Eliya had installed someone of her own choosing in the south wing without my permission—right next to my private quarters.

She was placing a chess piece. Politically, and beside my bed.

But I only raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. I wanted to see how she'd justify it.

"You've probably heard who she is by now. But I chose her for her abilities." She took another sip. "The patrolman's silver poisoning had been spreading for a full day and night. She cleared it completely. There aren't many people in the Northern Lands who can do that."

She wasn't wrong.

For an ordinary wolf, a silver bullet was essentially a death sentence.

But she'd pulled the injured man back from the brink in record time.

I leaned back in my chair, speaking lazily.

"She's proven herself capable—initially. But there are plenty of wolf doctors. Why bring in Kellen's fiancée?"

"Former fiancée," Eliya corrected me. "Kellen abandoned her. The girl has no obligation to honor that engagement anymore."

"Besides, she said you'd met before. You didn't dislike her then."

She watched me with interest, waiting for my reaction.

Ansel rumbled low in my mind, his tail sweeping slowly across the floor of my consciousness.

He remembered the night we'd shared—the heat of her body, the curve of her form.

He missed her.

I took a drink, forcing the physical response down. Hard.

"Anything else happen while I was gone?"

"Elena's coming-of-age ball is in three weeks. The Council of Elders has already sent formal invitations."

"How many of them support me attending?"

"Four. Two neutral. Only one opposed—me."

Four to one. Eliya's position in the pack was weaker than I'd thought.

I lowered my gaze, cutting a piece of grouse and chewing slowly as I considered how much of a chance her scheme actually had.

Eliya was isolated. Mira was her only piece on the board.

Nothing to fear.

And besides... I wanted to see what Mira was really after.

I set down my fork, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

"There's a strategy meeting tomorrow morning. We'll be discussing how to reduce ambushes within pack territory. The new wolf doctor might as well attend."

"Excellent. Get some rest, Alpha."

Eliya raised her glass, smiling at me.

---

Late that night, I closed the door behind me and draped my coat over the back of a chair.

I exhaled, sinking into the seat.

Only now, as I relaxed, did I realize how utterly exhausted every muscle in my body was.

But my nerves were still active, still registering the faint fragrance seeping through the room.

Her scent. Damn it. The closer she was, the stronger it became.

My breathing grew heavier, my fingers curling against the armrest.

I closed my eyes, focusing on my body. It wasn't the raw, primal hunger of the heat—it was something else. A... flutter.

I hadn't felt this emotion in so long I'd almost forgotten it existed.

But it was back now, triggered by nothing more than a trace of scent.

I sighed, suppressing the restlessness, and poured myself another drink.

I missed the days when suppressants could control the urges. They'd been dull, but safe.

The firelight danced in the hearth. My fingertips traced the rim of the glass.

Shit, Aiden. Don't jerk off in front of the fireplace. Don't fantasize about the woman your godson abandoned.

An Alpha doesn't let a woman's scent control his body.

I forced the desire down, took a cold shower, and climbed into bed quickly.

My muscles loosened, but my mind hovered at the edge of sleep.

Because if I let myself slip all the way under, Ansel would take over the dream.

He would bite and mount Seraphina, over and over, until climax.

And Mira would feel it too.

I wouldn't allow it.