We creep closer, staying behind the thick trunks, watching.
Pathetic.
Three alphas stalking through the woods like lovesick teenagers, spying on their packmate and an omega who’d sooner gut us than kiss us.
“Oh, Silas, look at this one!” Blue squeals, hefting a rock. “The stripes are so pretty. Like a tiger.”
Silas grunts.
Real articulate, asshole.
My wolf howls inside me. He wants to charge out there, claim her, pin her down, and mark her so every wolf in a hundred miles knows she’s taken. But there’s another part of me, a part I barely recognize, that wants to gather wildflowers and lay them at her feet. Wants to sit where Silas is sitting and have her look at me the way she’s looking at him.
I clench my jaw.
She’s driving me out of my mind. Her defiance. Her spirit. The way she refuses to back down, no matter how much the world throws at her. I can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t stop wanting her. And I hate myself for both because I’ve done nothing to earn the right to want anything from her.
These past few days have been the worst of my life. The way she looked at me when I chained her up. Not with fear. With something worse. Like she could see straight through me, pastthe alpha bullshit, right down to the hollow fucking center of me. And she wasn’t impressed.
I chained my fated mate to a wall.
What kind of male does that?
The answer sits in my chest like a stone. The same kind of male whose father was murdered in front of him and who spent the next ten years making sure no one could ever take anything from him again. Control. That’s all I know. Hold on tight, lock it down, don’t let go. It’s kept the pack alive. It’s kept me alive. And it’s the exact thing that’s going to drive her away.
She deserves better. She’s been through hell already, real hell, the kind with wolfsbane wire and dead sisters and three years sleeping on the ground. And I added to it. I locked an omega who’d already been caged with wolfsbane wire into another cage because I was afraid she’d leave.
I’m not worthy of her. I know this.
But she’s with Silas right now, and she’s letting him in. Laughing and talking and holding his hand, and she hasn’t tried to run once. That means something. Maybe if she can trust him, eventually she can trust the rest of us.
Maybe even me.
“You okay?” Archer mutters.
I say nothing. I’m too busy grinding my teeth, watching Blue crouch down to scoop up another handful of rocks from the forest floor. She turns to Silas with a smile that makes my chest ache and dumps the stones into his waiting hands. He tucks them into his already bulging pockets without complaint.
“He’s not even trying,” Elias mutters.
“He’s got nothing to prove,” Archer says. “Unlike you.”
“Enough,” I growl.
Blue holds up a smooth, oblong stone, turning it in the light. “It’s perfect, don’t you think?”
Silas nods. His scarred face is softer than I’ve seen it in years.
Bastard.
I want to hate him for it, but I can’t. Silas lost more than any of us. His whole family was butchered in front of him. He hasn’t spoken since that night. Ten years of silence, and Blue is the first person who doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t try to fix it or fill it. Just talks enough for both of them and lets him be.
Of course, she chose him first. He’s the safest of us. The gentlest. The one who’d never chain anyone to anything.
“Jesus, how many rocks does one omega need?” Elias grumbles.
I shoot him a glare. “Shut it.”
Blue’s scent drifts toward us on a shift in the wind.