Chapter 3

From that day on, my herb garden—under Zane's sheer force of will—had transformed into a climate-controlled greenhouse.

Zane was, quite frankly, out of his mind.

Just so I could grow those delicate southern herbs, he actually forced the pack's fire mages to take shifts, heating the greenhouse around the clock.

"Zane, you really don't need to do this..." I watched the mages, sweat pouring down their faces, guilt gnawing at me.

"You're my mate. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you, no matter what it takes." Zane wrapped his arms tightly around me from behind.

I froze for a moment, and then the memory surfaced—something that had happened just a few days ago, when I'd passed by the training grounds.

That day, a wolf soldier returning from patrol had run into me by accident. Catching a whiff of my scent—so different from anyone else's—he'd wrinkled his nose on the spot.

"A half-blood mongrel, and she thinks she belongs in our pack?"

Instinctively, I'd shrunk into myself, my body already bracing to apologize.

That was how it had always been, ever since I was a child—mocked and ridiculed by human kids for as long as I could remember.

But before I could even open my mouth, Zane appeared.

He strode forward and seized the soldier by the throat with one hand, lifting him clean off the ground.

"Say that again."

"What did you call her?"

The soldier's face drained of color, and he flailed his hands desperately, begging for mercy.

"Mercy, War God! I take it back! I misspoke!"

"Her blood is nobler than anyone's here." Zane tossed him to the ground like garbage. "If I hear anyone speak of her bloodline again, I'll tear his tongue out with my own hands."

In that moment, I stood frozen, something inside my chest giving a soft, sudden ache.

For the first time in my life, someone had gotten angry for my half-blood status—not disgusted by it.

His chest pressed against my back now, his chin nuzzling deep into the curve of my neck, breathing in my scent with unrestrained greed.

"I have some business to handle at the front lines today. I'll be back by nightfall." Zane nipped at my earlobe. "Behave yourself and stay put. Don't go anywhere."

Once Zane left, the greenhouse finally fell quiet.

I let out a breath of relief and turned my attention to a pot of calming draught I was brewing—a specialty of mine, one I took real pride in.

"What are you making?"

I jumped so hard the ladle slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.

I turned around. It was Lucius.

I hadn't even noticed him standing in the greenhouse doorway.

He wasn't wearing his usual severe long coat today—just a white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, revealing his collarbone.

Lucius took a step forward with his long legs, closing the distance between us.

"A—a calming draught..." I stammered, backing away until my spine hit the edge of the table.

He was so tall. As he closed in, an overwhelming pressure washed over me, carrying with it a cold, icy fragrance.

He stopped in front of me, looking down at the bubbling pot of medicine.

"A calming draught?" He let out a scornful laugh. "Wolves have no use for something so weak."

Without warning, he reached out, his long fingers dipping straight into the scalding liquid.

"Don't touch that—it's hot—" I cried out in alarm.

But he didn't so much as flinch.

He looked at me, and then—slowly, deliberately—brought the finger, still coated in the draught, to his own lips.

The gesture was unbearably seductive. His silver-gray eyes never left mine as his tongue slid gently across the tip of his finger.

My mind went completely blank.

"So sweet," he murmured, his voice suddenly rough and low.

"That... that medicine doesn't taste sweet at all..." I was on the verge of tears, shrinking back as far as I could.

Lucius suddenly leaned in, planting both hands on the table's edge on either side of me, trapping me entirely within his shadow.

His nose was almost touching mine.

"I wasn't talking about the medicine." His gaze fixed on my lips, his breath growing heavy and scorching hot. "I meant you."

I was shaking all over, my legs too weak to hold me up.

Before I could even process what was happening, he reached out and roughly tore open the top button of my collar.

"Alpha—"