The first thing I noticed was the sound.

  Not the wild, lonesome howls that had carried me into sleep, but something heavier, layered, the noises of life. Voices drifted across the clearing in low conversation, doors creaked open, footsteps thudded on packed earth. Somewhere, an axe struck wood in steady rhythm, followed by the bark of a dog or maybe a wolf, sharp and startling in the chill dawn.

  I sat up slowly, rubbing at my eyes. Bagel was a warm weight at my hip, curled into the blankets like she had no intention of leaving. It sounded like some of the men were already moving about with in the cabin quiet efficiency, but it was the pull of the world outside that got me to leave the comfort of my bed.

  The pack.

  I pushed to my feet, padding toward the bedroom door on my bare toes.

  The men were all clearly way too awake for this time of day. Riven was at the table, sorting through gear, while Grabber moved near the hearth, quiet but efficient. Thorne stood by the door, sleeves rolled to his forearms, his presence steady and unmoving. None of them said anything as I crossed the room, and I didn’t trust my voice enough to break the silence.

  I could feel their attention shift toward me as I reached the door, not questioning, just watchful, but I kept my eyes forward, one hand brushing the rough wood as I passed.

  The moment I stepped outside, the cold slapped my face and stole the breath from my lungs. The clearing stretched before me in its full shape now, revealed in the pale gray light of morning.

  Cabins rose in a wide arc, smoke curling from their chimneys in thin, wavering lines. Wolves moved between them in both forms, some walking upright with clothes hastily tugged on, others still in sleek fur, paws crunching through frost. A cluster of young men sparred in the dirt beyond the firepit, their strikes hard enough that I could hear the smack of flesh from here. The air was full of smells: pine, damp earth, smoke, the lingering tang of cooked meat.

  And all of it, every sound, every movement, felt like it stopped the moment their eyes landed on me.

  It was subtle at first, a few glances, curiosity in the corner of someone’s stare. But it spread like wildfire. One after another, heads turned, gazes pinned, and suddenly I was the axis of the clearing. I could feel the weight of them on my skin, heavy, assessing, not cruel exactly but far from kind.

  The whispers followed next. Soft, threaded with suspicion, too low for me to make out words but sharp enough in tone that I didn’t need the details.

  My pulse kicked harder. I straightened my shoulders instinctively, though my insides felt like water. This was a pack, a true pack of werewolves, and I was standing here as nothing but an outsider.

  Behind me, the door opened with a creak, and Thorne’s presence filled the space like a shadow. His hand brushed against my arm, steadying without comment, and the air shifted. Not completely, the stares didn’t vanish, the tension didn’t ease, but there was a difference now. He was their Alpha. I stood beside him, and that made me something, even if that something was dangerous.

  “Don’t stare back,” he said under his breath, his tone so quiet I almost thought I’d imagined it. “They’ll take it as a challenge.”

  I dropped my gaze at once, heat crawling up my throat.

  The whispers dulled to a low murmur as Thorne stepped past me and into the clearing, his stride purposeful, commanding. The stares followed us as he gestured for me to come along, Riven and Grabber falling in at either side. The four of us cut a path straight through the heart of the pack’s territory, and though no one moved to stop us, it felt like walking under a storm sky, waiting for the first crack of lightning.

  My thoughts spun as we passed each group: the wolves sparring, who slowed their movements to watch; men carrying food and firewood, who murmured among themselves without taking their eyes off me.

  A family, a community, a pack.

  Everything I’d never had, and everything I wasn’t sure I could survive.

  Thorne didn’t slow as he guided me past the cluster of cabins. His strides were longer than mine, but measured enough that I could keep pace if I tried. Riven and Grabber lingered a step behind, shadows to his authority.

  The pack kept watching, of course. I felt their stares burn against my back until it became hard to breathe. My every instinct screamed at me to run, to duck into the trees and vanish before they could close in. But Thorne didn’t falter, and that was the only thing keeping my feet moving.

  “Are they always like this?” I whispered, not daring to lift my gaze from the dirt path.

  “They’re curious,” Thorne said simply. His voice was calm, but I caught the edge beneath it. “Suspicious. They’ll decide in time what to make of you.”

  “In time?” I risked a glance at him, frustration rising sharp in my chest. “How much time?”

  Thorne didn’t look at me, but his jaw tightened. “As long as it takes.”

  Not exactly reassuring.

  He led me past what looked like a communal firepit, its blackened stones ringed by benches. Beyond that was a line of cabins larger than the rest, their walls sturdier, shutters decorated with carved markings I didn’t recognize.

  “Those are supposed to be for families,” he said, finally glancing toward me. “Most used to take pride in building their own, passing them down to their children. Back when that was possible.”

  “And… that one?” I asked, gesturing to a squat, long building at the far end of the row. Its roof was lower, but the scent drifting from it was unmistakable, rich, fatty, mouth-watering.

  “The pack hall,” Thorne said. “Meals are taken together most nights. Unless there’s reason not to.”

  I caught the implication: I was the reason not to. The thought made my chest ache.

  We moved on, winding through a section where the cabins gave way to open space. A training yard stretched out before us, its dirt floor trampled and scarred. Several wolves sparred there already, bare-chested, skin glistening with sweat despite the morning chill. Their strikes cracked like whips, the sound of fists against flesh making me flinch.

  One of them paused mid-swing, noticing us. His eyes locked on me. Slowly, the others followed, their movements halting until the entire yard was still.

  The silence was suffocating.

  Then one of them, tall, broad-shouldered, with a jagged scar running down his left arm, gave a low laugh. Not cruel exactly, but sharp enough to sting.

  “Didn’t know the Alpha was bringing home strays,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  The words cut, even though I tried not to let it show. My pulse hammered.

  Riven shifted behind me, his posture going tense, but Thorne didn’t so much as blink. He held the man’s stare for a long, heavy moment. Whatever passed between them was silent but potent, because the man dropped his gaze first, muttering under his breath as he turned back to his sparring partner.

  Thorne started walking again, not sparing me a glance. I hurried to catch up, trying to ignore the heat rising in my face.

  “You’re not going to defend me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

  He stopped abruptly, turning toward me so fast I nearly stumbled into him. His eyes pinned me in place, sharp, burning, unflinching.

  “I already did,” he said.

  I opened my mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to answer. There was no triumph in his voice, no arrogance, just cold certainty.

  We moved again, quieter this time, until the cabins thinned and the forest pressed closer. A larger, sturdier structure stood here, set slightly apart from the rest, not isolated, but clearly distinct. Its roof was reinforced, its windows fitted with heavy shutters, and a rack of weapons leaned against the outer wall.

  “My work,” Thorne said.

  Inside, I glimpsed maps scattered across a wide table, stacks of parchment pinned beneath stones, blades laid out with the same care as quills and ink.

  He didn’t invite me in. Just let me look, then closed the door firmly.

  “You’ll see it when I say you need to,” he said. “Until then, you’ll stay clear of this place.”

  My stomach twisted. Not quite belonging anywhere, not outside, not inside. Always on the edge.

  Before I could speak, a familiar figure approached across the clearing, tall, broad, his easy gait a contrast to Thorne’s rigid command. Brennar.

  “Alpha,” he said with a grin, but his eyes flicked toward me, warm and curious. “You want me to watch her for a while? Or should I call it babysitting?”

  I stiffened, heat rushing to my cheeks.

  Thorne’s gaze flicked between us, unreadable. Then he gave the faintest nod.

  “Stay with Brennar,” he said to me. “I have work.”

  And just like that, he was gone, striding back toward his own cabin without another word.

  · ─ ·?· ─ · ·

  Brennar leaned against the porch post like he owned it, arms crossed, grin tugging at his mouth.

  “So,” he said, eyes dancing. “Babysitting duty. Didn’t think that would be on my list of responsibilities today.”

  I blinked at him, still standing awkwardly by the door of the cabin that Thorne had entered. My arms folded automatically, defensive. “I don’t need babysitting.”

  “Sure you don’t,” Brennar drawled. “And I don’t need food or sleep. But here we are.”

  Heat prickled at my cheeks. “Is this how you treat all your guests?”

  “Guests?” He chuckled, pushing off the post. “Trust me, stranger, you’re no guest. Guests don’t make the whole pack twitchy just by breathing.”

  I stiffened. He must’ve noticed, because the teasing softened from his tone. “Relax. They’ll come around. You’ve got the Alpha’s protection, and whether you believe it or not, that counts for more than you think.”

  I didn’t answer, but the knot in my chest loosened, just a little. Brennar tilted his head toward the path leading away from the cabin.

  “Come on. Let’s walk. Sitting around brooding won’t help.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I hesitated, but followed. Bagel padded after us with the kind of imperious self-assurance only a cat could manage, her tail flicking like she was leading the way instead of following.

  “So,” Brennar said as we wove between cabins, “what’s your story?”

  I shot him a wary glance. “What do you mean?”

  “You know, your story. Where you come from, why you decided to throw in with a bunch of wolves who would rather bite first and ask questions never.” His grin flashed again, but his eyes were sharp. He wasn’t just making conversation.

  I hesitated. “… It’s complicated.”

  “It always is.” he said easily.

  Something in his voice made me pause. “What about you, then? What’s your story?”

  He chuckled. “Me? Oh, I’m one of the lucky ones. Born here. Raised here. Bit of a troublemaker in my youth, but somehow I ended up Beta. Still not sure if it’s because Thorne trusts me… or because I annoyed him so much he wanted me close where he could keep an eye on me.”

  I laughed before I could stop myself. The sound startled me, rough from disuse.

  “There it is,” Brennar said, grinning wider. “Knew you had a laugh in there somewhere.”

  I shook my head, biting back another smile. “So… Beta. That means you’re second in command, right?”

  “That’s the formal way of putting it.” He scratched at his jaw. “Mostly it means I do the talking when Thorne doesn’t want to. Which is often.”

  “That sounds… exhausting.”

  “You have no idea,” Brennar said with mock gravity. “But, perks balance it out.”

  “What perks?”

  “My mate, for one.” His voice warmed instantly, something soft flickering across his face. “You’ll like him. He’s not really into sparring or strategy, but he could talk circles around anyone here if he wanted to. Got a heart big enough to shame the rest of us, too.”

  “Your mate?” I echoed, my curiosity slipping past my guardedness.

  “Rowan,” Brennar said, with the easy affection of someone saying the most natural name in the world. “I’ll introduce you when he’s back from the gardens. I think the two of you will get on. He has this ridiculous but also kinda amazing dream of opening a spa one day.”

  I blinked. “… A spa? Here?”

  “Don’t laugh,” Brennar warned, though he was already smiling. “Hot springs, massages, the works. Says this pack could use some peace instead of endless training and patrols.”

  The thought of wolves lounging in fluffy robes nearly made me snort. “That… sounds oddly perfect.”

  “Right?” Brennar grinned. “Course, Thorne thinks it’s a waste of space, but Rowan’s stubborn. Keeps bringing it up every few weeks just to watch the Alpha roll his eyes.”

  For the first time since stepping into this territory, I felt something like ease settle in my chest.

  “…Maybe I should run away with him,” I said dryly. “Escape all this tension and hide out in his spa. Think he’d take me?”

  Brennar barked out a laugh. “Oh, absolutely. He’d pamper you for days. But then…” He gave me a sly look. “You realize the second your mates found out, you’d be dragged back here by the scruff of your neck.”

  “They’re not my -” I started hotly, but Brennar was already laughing, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

  “Easy, stranger. I’m teasing.”

  Bagel meowed as if in agreement, brushing against my leg before hopping onto a nearby fence post to lord over us.

  For the first time, I didn’t feel like I was suffocating under the weight of every eye in the pack.

  For the first time, I almost felt like I could breathe.

  We rounded a bend in the worn path, Bagel darting ahead toward a cabin with flower boxes nailed crookedly under its windows. The scent of herbs carried faintly from behind it, sharp rosemary, soothing lavender, something green and earthy I couldn’t place.

  “That’s Rowan’s work,” Brennar said with quiet pride. “He makes half the tonics that keep this pack standing. Thorne pretends not to notice, but trust me, the Alpha’s as dependent on Rowan’s brews as the rest of us.”

  Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and a smaller man stepped out, arms loaded with a basket of dried stalks. His sandy hair fell into his eyes, and he had ink stains smudged across his fingers, like he’d just been writing. He looked up at us and smiled, warm, open, immediate.

  “There you are,” he said, his voice a soft lilt. His gaze swept over Brennar with unmistakable fondness before landing on me. “And you must be the infamous newcomer.”

  I froze, unsure whether to bristle or smile. Rowan’s expression left little room for bristling; there was no malice there, only genuine curiosity.

  “Don’t scare her, Rowan,” Brennar said, plucking the basket from his mate’s arms with an ease that made me blink. For all his size, Brennar handled the fragile stalks as carefully as if they were glass. “She’s already been through half the pack staring holes in her.”

  Rowan tilted his head, studying me. “And yet she’s still standing. That says something.”

  Heat crept into my face at the unexpected kindness. I managed a stiff, “I’m Liora.”

  “Rowan,” he said easily, as though we were meeting at a market stall instead of under the weight of a pack’s suspicion. “And that -” he pointed as Bagel hopped up on his fence, immediately sniffing his drying herbs, "-is trouble waiting to happen.”

  “Bagel,” I said quickly. “And she’s not trouble.”

  “She will be if she knocks over my rosemary,” Rowan replied, but his smile stayed, gentle as sunlight.

  Brennar shifted the basket in his arms. “I should put this away before the whole thing blows into the dirt. Don’t go anywhere,” he added to me with a grin, before disappearing into the cabin.

  That left Rowan and me standing awkwardly in the yard. I glanced down, not sure what to say, until Rowan spoke first.

  “So. Thorne finally brought someone home.”

  I blinked, startled by the phrasing. “What?”

  Rowan shrugged, leaning lightly against the fence. “That man lives like the world is made of stone and duty. If he’s letting you anywhere near his home, you must matter.”

  My heart gave a jolt I tried to ignore. “I… don’t think it’s like that.”

  Rowan only hummed, studying me with eyes that seemed to see far too much. “Maybe not yet. But still, you’re here. That’s a start.”

  Before I could answer, Brennar reappeared, dusting his hands. He slid an arm around Rowan’s shoulders with easy affection, dropping a kiss to his temple. “Didn’t scare her off, did you?”

  “Not yet,” Rowan said dryly, though his lips curved.

  I found myself smiling before I could stop it. Something about the two of them together felt… grounding. Less sharp edges, less looming threat.

  Brennar smirked at me. “Told you you’d like him.”

  Rowan arched a brow. “Like me? She doesn’t even know me yet.”

  “She will,” Brennar said with certainty. Then he leaned down to whisper something in Rowan’s ear, earning a swat to the chest, before excusing himself again. “I need to go double check on the warrior training for Thorne before he notices I’ve shirked half my duties today. You two behave.”

  And just like that, it was Rowan and me again.

  Rowan studied me, arms loosely folded. “So, what do you think so far? Of us? Of this place?”

  I hesitated. “… Intimidating.”

  “That’s fair,” he admitted with a soft laugh. “Most of them walk around like they’ve got mountains balanced on their shoulders. Makes it hard to see that under all the teeth and growling, they’re just… people.”

  I glanced at him. “And you?”

  “Oh, I growl too,” Rowan said solemnly. “But only if someone ruins my herbs.”

  I laughed before I could stop myself. Rowan’s smile deepened, warm with victory. “See? Not so scary after all.”

  I shook my head, though the tension in my shoulders eased. “Brennar mentioned you wanted to open a spa?”

  That lit something in his expression instantly. “Oh, it’s not just a want. It’s a plan. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next year, but one day? Hot springs, oils, treatments. A place where wolves, and anyone else, can come to lay down their burdens and just breathe.”

  I blinked at the sheer earnestness in his tone. “Here? In the middle of wolf territory?”

  “Why not?” Rowan countered. “We could use it more than most. But if you’re asking whether the others would sign up for facials and mud baths…” He smirked. “That’s the battle I haven’t won yet.”

  The image nearly made me choke on a laugh. “Thorne in a robe. Riven with cucumber slices over his eyes. Brennar in… what, a clay mask?”

  Rowan grinned, conspiratorial. “Oh, now you’re seeing it. Imagine their faces if we dragged them in there.”

  “…Maybe I should help you escape,” I blurted, surprising even myself. “We’ll run away, start the spa somewhere quiet. Somewhere none of them can find us.”

  Rowan gasped theatrically, his eyes dancing. “You’d really abandon them for me?”

  I snorted. “Don’t tempt me. You don’t know how appealing that sounds.”

  “Too late. Now I’m picturing it.” Rowan tapped his chin. “We’d need a cover story. Disguise ourselves, take on new names…”

  “Grow herbs in secret,” I added, playing along despite myself.

  “And hire Bagel as head of security,” Rowan said gravely.

  At that, Bagel meowed, flicking her tail like she approved.

  I laughed so hard I had to press a hand over my mouth.

  When I looked back, Rowan was grinning at me like we’d been friends for years instead of minutes.

  Rowan leaned closer, conspiratorial. “So. It’s settled. We vanish, open the spa, hire Bagel as head of security. Maybe get you a fancy title too. Co-founder? Co-conspirator?”

  “Chief escape artist,” I suggested, and Bagel purred as though approving the promotion.

  “Perfect.” Rowan grinned. “Of course, the tricky part will be surviving when Brennar tracks us down. He’ll kick the door in and drag me home by the ear.”

  I snorted. “Only if Thorne doesn’t get to me first. He’d probably chain me to their cabin just to make sure I couldn’t run off again.”

  Rowan clutched his chest in mock horror. “Cruel. Brutal. The kind of punishment only an Alpha could dream up.”

  “Don’t forget Riven,” I added quickly, warming to the game. “He’d give the whole lecture while Thorne glowered. Hours of it.”

  Rowan groaned. “You’re right. I’d rather be flayed alive.”

  That was when Brennar reappeared, arms full of firewood, just in time to catch the last bit. He dropped the logs in a heap with a thud, raising one brow. “Flayed alive?”

  Rowan brightened. “We were planning our escape.”

  Brennar squinted between us. “...Excuse me?”

  “To a spa,” I explained, trying very hard not to laugh. “One with mud baths and hot springs. Rowan’s dream. I’m his co-conspirator.”

  Brennar set his hands on his hips, pretending to glower. “You’re plotting treason on your second day here?”

  “Not treason,” Rowan corrected. “Self-care.”

  That did it. I burst out laughing. Rowan’s grin widened in triumph.

  Brennar shook his head, sighing in exaggerated defeat. “Spirits save me. The two of you together are going to be trouble.”

  “You’d visit, though,” Rowan teased, poking him in the chest. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t sneak off for a hot stone massage.”

  Brennar’s ears went faintly pink. “...Maybe.”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to smother another laugh. Rowan’s expression turned wicked. “See? He’s already halfway convinced.”

  “Traitor,” I muttered, mock-scandalized.

  “Not a traitor,” Brennar rumbled, but his lips were twitching. “Just realistic. And I’ll tell you this, when Thorne finds out about this little escape plan, don’t come running to me for protection.”

  Rowan gasped theatrically, seizing my hand. “Did you hear that? He’s offering us up to the Alpha wolf without hesitation!”

  “Oh, I heard,” I said solemnly. “Some mate he is.”

  Brennar groaned, dragging a hand down his face, but his shoulders shook with contained laughter. “I already regret introducing you two.”

  The three of us dissolved into helpless laughter, Bagel weaving between our legs like she was in on the joke. For the first time since arriving, the knot in my chest loosened. This didn’t feel like scrutiny, or suspicion, or danger. It felt like… belonging.

  And then,

  The door creaked open.

  The laughter cut off like a blade.

  Thorne stood in the doorway, shadowed by firelight, his expression unreadable as his eyes flicked from Rowan to Brennar to me.

  The silence that followed was louder than any howl.

  Thorne’s eyes lingered on me the longest, unreadable as ever, before sliding to Rowan and Brennar.

  “What’s got you laughing like that?” He asked, giving us a suspicious look.

  Rowan sat up straighter immediately, like a schoolboy caught mid-mischief. “Just… strategy,” he said, too quickly.

  Brennar groaned. “Don’t drag me into this. It was your idea.”

  Thorne’s brow arched, the faintest flicker of humor tugging at his mouth. “Strategy.” His gaze swept back to me. “And you?”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “It was Rowan’s idea,” I blurted, which only made Rowan cackle harder.

  For a heartbeat, I braced myself for Thorne’s disapproval, for the weight of judgment that had followed me since I’d stepped into his territory. But instead… his shoulders eased. The faintest smile touched his lips, not the sharp, cutting expression I’d seen before, but something quieter. Warmer.

  “I see,” he said simply, the words gentler than I expected. “I’m glad to see my pack isn’t making you feel unwelcome.”

  The room seemed to breathe again. Rowan grinned at me; Brennar smirked and shook his head. Bagel purred louder, like she’d been part of the plan all along.

  I lowered my gaze, suddenly shy under the weight of that warmth. “They’ve been… good company,” I admitted softly.

  “Good,” Thorne said. His voice carried a finality to it, not warning, not threat, just… settled. As though he’d claimed the moment for what it was: something that mattered.

  The fire crackled between us, shadows swaying across the walls. For the first time since stepping foot into this place, I felt the smallest sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t entirely alone here.

  And outside, the howls rose again, rolling through the night like the pulse of something greater than me. A reminder of everything I still didn’t understand. A reminder that belonging would not be given freely.

  But as I glanced at Rowan’s mischievous grin, at Brennar’s quiet steadiness, at Thorne’s watchful eyes that for once weren’t sharp with suspicion, I wondered if, for the first time, belonging might actually be possible.

  Authors note

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