Five chapters. No strings.

The first thing I saw when I came home was my best friend holding another woman.

The second thing was the look on his face when he realized I was watching.

The third was considerably more concerning.

My wolf wanted blood.

Well, that's new.

Four years at Moonfang Warrior Academy. Four years of brutal training, impossible expectations, and learning to keep my head when everyone around me was losing theirs.

And apparently, all it took to make my wolf completely lose her shit was Nixon Hale with his arm around a blonde.

I hadn't even unpacked yet.

This was going to be a long night.

To be fair, the evening had started out considerably better.

I'd reached the edge of the clearing with a duffel over my shoulder, a smile on my face, and absolutely no intention of announcing my arrival.

Four years.

One thousand four hundred and sixty-one days, including the leap year.

Not that I'd been counting.

Much.

The familiar scent of pine and damp earth had followed me through the forest. Somewhere ahead, music drifted between the trees, accompanied by laughter and the unmistakable smell of roasting meat.

A party.

Of course there was a damn party.

I'd spent four years imagining my return, and apparently the entire pack had decided to make themselves conveniently available.

Well, that saved me some walking.

I paused beneath the trees, letting my eyes adjust to the firelight.

Old habits took over.

Entrances. Exits. Crowd density. Unfamiliar faces.

A guard stood near the far side of the clearing, keeping an eye on the tree line. Another moved along the perimeter.

Good.

I wasn't here to inspect security, but four years of training didn't disappear just because I crossed the border into familiar territory.

I could probably stop assessing every room I entered.

Eventually.

Maybe.

Magnus Moonfang would have laughed himself sick if he'd heard that.

The man had spent years trying to convince me that not every situation required my personal involvement.

He'd also spent a considerable amount of time explaining the difference between questioning an order and telling an instructor exactly where he could shove it.

I understood the difference perfectly.

I just hadn't always considered it particularly relevant.

Which might have explained the two expulsions during my first year.

In my defense, a stupid rule didn't magically become intelligent because someone with a title insisted I follow it.

The instructors hadn't appreciated that observation.

Either time.

But I'd returned, finished my training, and earned my place at Moonfang without becoming someone I didn't recognize.

I'd worked too damn hard to do otherwise.

Tonight, though, I wasn't anyone's commander.

I was Val.

And Val wanted three things.

To hug her family.

To eat something that hadn't been prepared in an Academy kitchen.

And to find Nixon Hale.

Preferably before he noticed I was back.

Four years ago, Nix had hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe.

Come home safe.

I'd promised him we'd race through the forest when I returned.

I intended to collect.

And if he thought four years of training had made me any less competitive, he was about to have a very educational evening.

I stepped into the clearing.

It took approximately three seconds for someone to notice me.

A conversation stopped.

Then another.

I watched recognition spread across familiar faces, followed by expressions ranging from delight to outright disbelief.

I almost laughed.

Apparently leaving at sixteen and returning at twenty was enough to make people forget what a person looked like.

Granted, I'd changed.

The girl who'd left for Moonfang had been strong, stubborn, and absolutely convinced she could take on the world.

The woman who'd returned had a much better understanding of what that actually required.

And the scars to prove it.

“Is that—”

I turned toward the voice.

Luna Sofia stood beside one of the tables, staring at me.

Her cup slipped from her fingers and struck a rock with a sharp clatter.

I grinned.

“Hi, Sofia.”

Her eyes widened.

“Oh, goddess.”

She turned toward the woman standing beside her.

My mother.

Alice followed Sofia's gaze.

For one heartbeat, she didn't move.

Then her hands flew to her mouth.

“Baby?”

And just like that, four years of discipline went straight to hell.

“Hi, Mom.”

She ran.

I dropped my duffel and caught her as she threw her arms around me.

She hit me hard enough to make a lesser wolf stumble.

I didn't move an inch.

“Valentina!”

Her voice cracked.

I wrapped my arms around her and held on.

Vanilla.

She still smelled like vanilla.

Goddess, I'd missed that.

For four years, I'd learned to push homesickness aside. There was always another exercise, another assignment, another responsibility demanding my attention.

You couldn't afford to lose focus because you missed your mother's cooking or your father's terrible jokes.

So I'd learned to carry the missing quietly.

Standing there with my mother in my arms, I realized just how heavy it had become.

“You're home,” she whispered.

“Last time I checked.”

She pulled back and cupped my face.

Her eyes shone with tears.

“Look at you.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What? No lecture about showing up without warning?”

“Oh, you're getting that lecture.”

“There she is.”

She laughed and hugged me again.

“Valentina!”

Dad.

I looked over her shoulder.

Ben was pushing through the crowd, Xavier right behind him.

My father had always been an imposing man. Broad shoulders, sharp eyes, and the kind of presence that made warriors straighten their backs without being told.

He was also the man who'd taught me to throw my first punch.

And the first person who'd told me that being strong meant nothing if I wasn't willing to stand up for someone who couldn't stand up for themselves.

His expression changed when he saw me.

For a moment, the Beta disappeared.

He was just my dad.

“Hey, old man.”

His laugh came out rough.

“Old man?”

“You heard me.”

He pulled me into a hug.

“Four years away, and you've still got that mouth.”

“Four years of professional training, Dad. The mouth's gotten better.”

“Goddess help us.”

I laughed against his shoulder.

Then—

“Holy shit!”

I turned.

Xavier stood a few feet away, staring at me like I'd crawled out of a grave.

I grinned.

“Hey, little brother.”

He blinked.

“Little? Val, I'm—”

“Still my little brother.”

He laughed and crossed the distance between us.

His hug was enthusiastic enough to nearly knock Dad sideways.

“Goddess, look at you!”

I stepped back and gave him an exaggerated inspection.

He'd filled out considerably. Broader shoulders, more muscle, and the easy confidence of someone who'd grown comfortable with responsibility.

My little brother had become a man while I'd been gone.

I felt an unexpected pinch of sadness.

I'd missed it.

I'd missed all of it.

I swallowed the feeling and nodded approvingly.

“Not bad.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Not bad?”

“Don't let it go to your head.”

He laughed.

For one perfect moment, I had everything I'd spent four years missing.

My mother.

My father.

My brother.

The sounds and scents of home.

Then I looked toward the bonfire.

And saw Nixon.

He stood near the flames, taller than I remembered, his shoulders broader beneath his shirt. His black hair had grown a little longer, and there was a small scar along his jaw that hadn't been there when I left.

His green eyes were turned toward the blonde tucked beneath his arm.

She was beautiful.

Of course she was.

Long blonde hair, blue eyes, and the kind of easy confidence that came from knowing exactly where you belonged.

Her hand rested against his chest.

He was smiling down at her.

My heart gave one hard, painful thud.

Then my wolf lost her damn mind.

Mine.

The word crashed through my head with enough force to make me stop breathing.

I went still.

Not because I couldn't move.

Because I needed three seconds to understand what the hell was happening inside my own head.

One.

Nixon was holding another woman.

Two.

My wolf wanted her gone.

Three.

I was going to find out why.

I drew a slow breath.

My wolf snarled.

Mine. Mine. MINE.

We heard you the first time.

She slammed against my control again.

The sheer force of her fury was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

I'd dealt with rage before.

Mine. Other people's. More than a few opponents who'd discovered that losing their temper in a fight was an excellent way to lose the fight itself.

But this?

This was something else.

Possessive.

Primal.

And entirely too interested in removing a blonde woman from Nixon Hale's immediate vicinity.

I didn't like it.

Not because I was afraid of my wolf.

Because I didn't understand her reaction.

And I didn't act on instincts I couldn't explain when innocent people might get hurt.

Even if those instincts were currently suggesting several highly creative ways to rearrange someone's face.

Absolutely not, I told her.

She growled.

You can complain all you want. We're not attacking anyone.

That earned me another furious snarl.

Wonderful.

Four years of mastering my wolf, and apparently she'd decided to become an unreasonable bitch the moment we got home.

“Val?”

Mom's voice sounded distant.

I barely heard her.

I was studying Nixon.

The comfortable way he stood.

The familiarity of the woman's touch.

The fact that neither of them looked remotely uncomfortable with the arrangement.

Whatever this was, it wasn't new.

That realization settled like a stone in my stomach.

Four years.

I'd spent four years thinking about coming home.

About seeing him again.

About whether we'd still fit together the way we always had. I mean I had hoped he was my mate, but that wasn’t confirmed….. holy shit! It’s confirmed!

And now—

“Holy shit—sis?!”

Xavier's voice carried across the clearing.

Nixon looked up.

Our eyes met.

And there he was.

My Nix.

For a heartbeat, I saw the boy who'd raced me through these woods, stolen food from my plate, and gotten us both grounded more times than I could count.

The boy who'd promised to wait for me.

Then I saw the man standing in front of me.

His smile vanished.

Shock flashed across his face.

Recognition.

Something deeper.

Something I couldn't quite read.

“Val?”

His voice was different.

Deeper.

Rougher.

Goddess, I'd missed that voice.

“You're…” He swallowed. “You're home.”

I looked at him.

Then at the blonde.

Then back at him.

My wolf snarled.

“Enough!”

She ignored me.

Fine.

We'd have that argument later.

I eased away from my family.

One step.

Then another.

The crowd parted as I approached.

I wasn't trying to intimidate anyone.

I simply knew where I was going.

Four years at Moonfang had taught me that hesitation could be more dangerous than making the wrong move.

But it had also taught me not to confuse decisive action with reckless action.

I wasn't going to make a scene without knowing what kind of scene I was walking into.

Although, judging by the way conversations were dying around us, the pack had already decided this was going to be entertaining.

Fantastic.

Nothing like a public audience for a personal disaster.

I stopped three feet from Nixon.

Close enough to see the small scar on his jaw.

Close enough to catch his familiar scent beneath the woodsmoke.

Pine.

Earth.

Nix.

And something else.

Her perfume.

My wolf practically climbed the walls of my skull.

Mine.

We are going to discuss your communication skills later.

Nixon stared at me.

“I… We didn't know you were coming home,” he said. “Nobody told us.”

I tilted my head.

“I told you four years, Nix.”

He went still.

“Today is four years to the day.”

I watched the realization hit him.

Then the guilt.

That one hurt.

He'd forgotten.

I hadn't.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I just… I didn't realize how fast the time went.”

I almost laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because four years hadn't gone particularly fast from where I'd been standing.

Four years of brutal training.

Four years of missing birthdays, holidays, and every ordinary moment everyone else had taken for granted.

Four years of wondering what he'd be like when I finally saw him again.

And he'd lost track of the time.

Well.

Wasn't that something.

I kept my expression neutral.

I wasn't about to unpack four years of loneliness in front of half the pack.

Especially not with a stranger hanging off his arm.

The blonde shifted beside him.

“Nixon?”

Her voice was pleasant enough, but I caught the edge beneath it.

“Who is this?”

A perfectly reasonable question.

I waited.

Nixon looked at her.

Then back at me.

His mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Interesting.

I folded my arms loosely across my chest.

My wolf was still furious, but she could be furious quietly for another minute.

I'd waited four years.

I could manage sixty more seconds.

Nixon swallowed.

“Val, I—”

I smiled.

Not the smile I'd given my mother.

Not the one I'd shared with Xavier.

This one was polite.

Controlled.

And just sharp enough that Nixon, who'd known me since childhood, ought to recognize the warning.

“Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Nixon flinched.

Interesting.

I'd seen grown warriors react better to the prospect of having their teeth knocked out.

The blonde beside him slipped her hand down his arm and threaded her fingers through his.

My wolf went absolutely feral.

Mine.

Yes, you've mentioned that.

THREAT.

I kept my smile in place.

Four years of training, countless hours learning to control every muscle in my body, and apparently my greatest challenge was going to be standing politely in front of a woman who had done absolutely nothing to me.

Well.

Nothing except hold hands with the man I'd spent half my life loving.

Which, objectively, wasn't a crime.

My wolf disagreed.

Vehemently.

Nixon cleared his throat.

“This is… Amber. Amber Frost. She's—”

He stopped.

I raised an eyebrow.

Apparently the future Alpha of our pack had forgotten how introductions worked.

Fortunately, Amber hadn't.

“I'm his girlfriend,” she said, lifting her chin. “We've been together for almost two years now.”

Two years.

I heard the words.

Understood them.

Filed them away.

And felt something in my chest crack anyway.

Two years meant that while I'd been learning to command warriors, Nixon had been building a life with someone else.

While I'd been counting the days until I could come home, he'd stopped counting.

I couldn't blame him for living his life.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

My wolf snarled so viciously that I felt the vibration in my chest.

Mine. Mate. MINE.

Mate.

There it was again.

The word I'd been trying not to examine too closely since stepping into the clearing.

I'd spent years wondering whether Nixon might be the wolf the Moon Goddess had chosen for me.

We'd been too young to know when I left.

And somewhere between my first broken bone at Moonfang and my last sleepless night there, I'd allowed myself to hope.

Now my wolf was practically screaming the answer.

Holy shit.

It was him.

Of course it was him.

And of course the goddess, in her infinite wisdom, had apparently decided that revealing this information while he had another woman hanging off his arm would be a wonderful idea.

Fantastic timing.

Truly inspired.

“Nix?” Amber prompted.

He looked at her, then back at me.

“Amber, this is… Goddess, this is—”

He stopped again.

I could practically hear the gears grinding behind those green eyes.

My childhood best friend.

The Beta's daughter.

The girl who'd disappeared for four years.

His mate.

That last one was going to make the introduction considerably more complicated.

I decided to spare him the effort.

“Valentina Voss,” I said, extending my hand. “Val, to most people. Nixon's childhood best friend.”

Amber looked at my hand before taking it.

Her grip was firm enough, though she seemed surprised by the calluses on my palm.

“We haven't spoken in four years,” I continued. “Moonfang doesn't allow contact with home during training. No letters, no calls, no visits.”

Her expression shifted.

“Oh. You're the Academy girl.”

I smiled.

“That's me.”

“Nixon's mentioned you. Once or twice.”

There it was.

A small, deliberate little jab.

Nothing worth getting worked up over.

Still, it found its mark.

Once or twice.

Four years of friendship, scraped knees, stolen desserts, whispered secrets, and promises made beneath the trees.

Reduced to once or twice.

I released her hand.

“Good to know I made an impression.”

Nixon's jaw tightened.

“That's not fair, Val. I've talked about you more than that.”

I looked at him.

“Have you?”

He opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Again.

I was beginning to suspect he'd misplaced his entire vocabulary somewhere around the bonfire.

“Amber's still fairly new to the pack,” he said finally. “She doesn't know all our history.”

“Apparently.”

Amber's eyes narrowed.

I couldn't blame her for being uncomfortable. A woman she'd never met had appeared out of nowhere, and her boyfriend was behaving like he'd just been informed of an impending execution.

But I hadn't created this situation.

And I wasn't going to apologize for coming home.

“Cass! Holy hell, look at you!”

I turned.

Jake Hale was pushing through the crowd, grinning like an idiot.

Goddess, he'd grown.

The lanky kid I remembered had apparently decided to become an enormous man while I was gone.

“Jake!”

He reached me in three strides and swept me into a bear hug, lifting me clean off the ground.

I laughed.

“Put me down, you overgrown menace!”

“Not a chance!”

“Jake.”

He laughed harder.

I sighed.

“I'm going to give you exactly three seconds before I demonstrate how to break a hold.”

He set me down immediately.

“Still terrifying. Good to know.”

“Only to people with poor survival instincts.”

He stepped back and looked me over.

“Goddess, Val. You're huge.”

I stared at him.

“I'm huge?”

“Not like that!”

“Wonderful recovery.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing.

“I mean, look at you! You're all muscle.”

“Four years at a warrior academy will do that.”

“Seriously, you look like you could take down a bear.”

“Depends on the bear.”

He blinked.

I grinned.

“Relax. I'd probably let it live.”

Jake burst out laughing.

And for a few precious seconds, I remembered exactly why I'd missed this family so much.

Jake had always been trouble.

Not the dangerous kind.

The kind that involved stolen pastries, elaborate pranks, and an astonishing ability to convince Xavier that whatever terrible idea they'd come up with had actually been mine.

Seeing him again felt like finding a piece of my childhood I'd thought I'd lost.

Then my wolf reminded me that Nixon was still standing three feet away.

Mate.

I know.

Ours.

We're working on it.

I turned back toward Amber.

“So, Amber. What brought you to our pack?”

She straightened.

“I transferred from Silver Creek about two and a half years ago. My father's an elder there.”

Silver Creek.

I knew the name.

An established pack with its own leadership, territory, and political interests.

That much was ordinary.

The timing was interesting.

“And the transfer?” I asked.

“Our packs were strengthening an alliance.”

I nodded.

Politics.

Of course.

There was always politics.

I glanced toward Jake.

“How badly did we need an alliance with Silver Creek?”

He looked surprised by the question.

“Need it?”

“Yes, Jake. Need it. As in, was there a serious threat, a shortage of resources, a territorial dispute? Something that required strengthening the relationship?”

His expression shifted.

“Not really. I mean, the alliance was important, but we weren't in trouble or anything.”

“Right.”

Amber crossed her arms.

“Is there a problem?”

“I'm asking a question.”

“It sounds like you're questioning why I'm here.”

I considered that.

“I'm questioning only the reason you gave me.”

Her cheeks colored.

Nixon shifted beside her.

“Val—”

I looked at him.

He stopped.

I hadn't raised my voice.

Hadn't threatened anyone.

Hadn't done anything more than ask for clarification.

But apparently we'd already reached the part of the evening where people expected me to stop asking inconvenient questions.

Some things never changed.

Jake glanced between us.

“Anyway,” he said, clearly attempting a rescue, “you really couldn't talk to anyone? Not even letters?”

I shook my head.

“Not a single one.”

“Four years?”

“That's generally how long four years lasts.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

His smile faded a little.

“Goddess, Val. That must've been rough.”

I shrugged.

“It was what I signed up for.”

That was true.

It was also a spectacularly inadequate description of four years of isolation.

I'd chosen Moonfang.

I'd chosen the training, the discipline, and the chance to become something more than a promising young warrior.

I'd accepted the cost.

But accepting a cost didn't mean it stopped hurting.

Nixon spoke quietly.

“The Academy requires complete isolation. It's part of the training.”

I looked at him.

He remembered that.

He remembered the rules.

He remembered why I hadn't written.

Just not when I was coming home.

My wolf gave a low, miserable whine.

For once, I didn't have a sarcastic response for her.

Amber frowned.

“That seems excessive. What kind of training requires you to abandon your family and friends completely?”

I studied her.

There was genuine disbelief in her expression.

Perhaps even concern.

But there was judgment, too.

I knew that tone.

I'd heard it from people who couldn't imagine making a choice they didn't personally understand.

“The kind I chose,” I said.

She looked taken aback.

“You chose not to speak to anyone for four years?”

“I chose to attend Moonfang. The isolation came with it.”

“Still, I can't imagine leaving everyone behind like that.”

“No,” I said quietly. “I suppose you can't.”

A silence settled between us.

Not an entirely comfortable one.

I could feel Nixon watching me.

I could feel my family watching us.

And beneath my skin, my wolf was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

Mate. Ours. Threat.

I looked at Amber's hand.

It had found Nixon's again.

She wasn't looking at me now.

She was looking at him.

Waiting.

Trying to understand why the woman who'd just arrived seemed to have turned her boyfriend into a statue.

And suddenly, I understood something else.

Amber wasn't merely being territorial.

She was afraid.

She might not know what was happening, but she could feel the ground shifting beneath her feet.

I understood that feeling rather well.

Unfortunately, understanding her didn't make the situation any less painful.

I looked at Nixon.

Twenty years old.

Future Alpha.

My oldest friend.

The man I'd secretly hoped would be mine.

And now, according to my wolf, the man the Moon Goddess had chosen for me.

He was still holding another woman's hand.

I couldn't make him responsible for a bond neither of us had known existed four years ago.

But I could hold him responsible for what he chose to do now.

And I wasn't going to stand in the middle of a clearing while everyone pretended the truth wasn't staring us in the face.

I turned toward Amber.

“Can I ask you something?”

She lifted her chin.

“Apparently, you're going to.”

Fair enough.

“What kind of she-wolf turns her back on the possibility of a fated mate?”

The clearing went silent.

Not quieter.

Silent.

Even Jake stopped moving.

Amber stared at me.

“Excuse me?”

I held her gaze.

“You haven't met your mate yet, have you?”

“No.”

“And you know Nixon hasn't met his.”

Her expression hardened.

“That's none of your business.”

I glanced at her hand resting on Nixon's arm.

“Funny. From where I'm standing, it feels very much like my business.”

Nixon went still.

Amber's eyes narrowed. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you both knew this day could come. That one of you could find your mate, and the other would be left standing there wondering what the hell happened.”

“We haven't found our mates,” Amber snapped.

“Not yet,” I corrected.

Her jaw tightened.

“I haven't found my mate,” she said, her voice rising. “And until I do, I'm free to make my own choices.”

“Yes,” I said. “You are.”

That seemed to catch her off guard.

I continued before she could respond.

“So is Nixon. I'm not disputing that.”

My wolf snarled.

Mine.

Shut up for five seconds.

“But choices have consequences,” I said. “Especially when other people are involved.”

Amber's eyes flashed.

“What exactly are you implying?”

I looked at Nixon.

He'd gone pale.

And there it was.

Recognition.

Not the full, unmistakable certainty my wolf was demanding.

But enough.

Enough for him to start putting the pieces together.

“Val,” he said.

My name came out like a plea.

I didn't answer.

He took a step toward me.

For the first time since I'd arrived, he moved away from Amber.

My wolf surged forward, desperate and triumphant.

Mate!

I locked her down.

Not now.

Not like this.

Nixon's eyes searched mine.

“How did you…?”

He swallowed.

“When did you…?”

He couldn't finish.

I knew what he was asking.

When had I known?

When had my wolf recognized him?

When had four years of hope become something far more complicated?

The answer was simple.

The moment I'd seen him.

But I wasn't going to have this conversation in fragments while Amber stood beside him wondering why everyone had suddenly lost their minds.

Xavier moved closer.

I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.

My brother's expression had gone hard.

Dad put a hand on his shoulder.

A quiet warning.

Not yet.

I appreciated the sentiment.

But I didn't need rescuing.

I needed answers.

Behind them, Sofia had turned toward Eli.

“Oh, goddess,” she whispered. “Eli, are they…?”

I heard her.

So did Nixon.

His gaze never left mine.

Amber looked between us.

“Nixon?”

He didn't answer.

“Nixon, what is she talking about?”

Still nothing.

I watched the woman who'd walked into this evening believing she knew exactly where she stood.

The fear in her eyes was real now.

I didn't enjoy it.

I wasn't going to pretend I did.

Whatever happened next, Amber deserved to hear the truth from the man who'd spent nearly two years with her.

Not from me.

I looked at Nixon.

My best friend.

My almost-forgotten promise.

My mate.

And for the first time since stepping into the clearing, I let him see exactly how much this hurt.

“Are you going to tell her?”

I held his gaze.

“Or should I?”

“Are you going to tell her?”

I held Nixon's gaze.

“Or should I?”

For one heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then Nixon stopped breathing.

Not figuratively.

I watched his chest go still, watched his green eyes widen, watched his hand rise slowly to the center of his chest.

And something changed.

The air between us seemed to tighten.

My wolf went utterly silent.

Which, considering she'd spent the last several minutes screaming like a lunatic, was almost more alarming.

Then—

HE KNOWS.

The howl that followed nearly knocked me off my feet.

I braced myself, keeping my expression steady as something warm and wild unfurled beneath my ribs.

Nixon staggered half a step.

His eyes locked on mine.

“Val.”

One word.

My name.

But he'd never said it quite like that before.

Not when we were children, hiding from our fathers after another spectacularly bad decision.

Not when we were sixteen, standing at the edge of the forest before I left for Moonfang.

This was different.

His wolf was looking at me.

And for the first time since I'd come home, I could see the boy I remembered beneath the man he'd become.

Wild.

Fierce.

Completely, gloriously unguarded.

Then the shock hit him.

“I can feel…” He pressed his palm harder against his chest. “Goddess. How is this possible?”

I almost laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because if I didn't laugh, I was going to do something considerably less dignified.

“Surprise,” I muttered.

Nobody laughed.

Tough crowd.

Behind Nixon, Sofia covered her mouth.

Dad went very still.

And Alpha Eli stepped forward, studying his son with an expression I couldn't quite read.

“You were sixteen when Val left,” he said quietly. “Neither of you was old enough to recognize a mate then. And you haven't been in the same place since.”

Nixon looked at him.

Then back at me.

“Four years,” he said.

I said nothing.

“We both turned eighteen while you were gone.”

“Yes, Nix. That's generally how birthdays work.”

He barely seemed to hear me.

His gaze moved over my face, as though he was searching for the girl he'd known and finding a hundred things he hadn't expected.

“Val…”

Amber stepped between us.

“Nixon.”

Her voice trembled.

He looked at her.

“We're together,” she said. “You and me. We've been together for almost two years.”

“I know.”

“You told me you loved me.”

Something painful crossed his face.

“I know, Amber.”

“Then what is happening?”

Nixon straightened.

It was a small movement, but I noticed it immediately.

His shoulders squared.

His jaw settled.

And when he spoke, his voice carried across the clearing without effort.

“Val is my mate.”

There it was.

No stammering.

No unfinished sentence.

No attempt to make the truth more comfortable than it was.

“Valentina Voss is my fated mate.”

My wolf practically purred.

OURS.

Yes. Thank you. We've established that.

But beneath her satisfaction, something in me ached.

I'd imagined hearing those words.

More times than I cared to admit.

I'd imagined Nixon looking at me and knowing.

I'd imagined coming home, finding him waiting, and discovering that all those years of wondering had been worth it.

I hadn't imagined Amber standing between us.

I certainly hadn't imagined having an audience.

Amber shook her head.

“No.”

Nixon's expression tightened.

“Amber—”

“No. You don't get to say that and expect me to just accept it.”

“I don't expect anything from you right now.”

“Then tell me it doesn't change anything.”

He went silent.

And that was answer enough.

Amber's eyes filled.

I looked away.

I wasn't going to enjoy watching another woman lose someone she loved.

Not even when that someone was my mate.

Especially not then.

But Amber turned toward me.

“You knew?”

I met her gaze.

“I suspected.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Suspected?”

“Before I left for Moonfang. Nixon and I were sixteen. Too young to know for certain.”

Nixon looked at me sharply.

“You thought…?”

I glanced at him.

“Don't look so surprised, Nix. We spent half our childhood getting into trouble together. Did you really think I never wondered?”

A faint, almost disbelieving expression crossed his face.

For a second, I could practically see the memory of us racing through the woods, daring each other to climb higher, run faster, jump farther.

Then Amber spoke again.

“So you came back expecting him to be yours?”

I took a breath.

“No. I came back hoping.”

“I knew he might not be my mate,” I continued. “I knew the Moon Goddess could have chosen someone else for either of us.”

My wolf objected to that possibility on principle.

I ignored her.

“But I wanted to find out before I gave my heart to anyone else.”

Amber stared at me.

I wasn't sure whether she understood.

Maybe I didn't blame her if she didn't.

Four years was a long time to hold on to a possibility.

Especially one that might have ended in disappointment.

But I'd made that choice.

And I'd lived with it.

“At Moonfang,” I said, “I had plenty of opportunities to find someone.”

Jake made a noise behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder.

“Don't.”

He held up both hands.

I turned back.

“Warriors. Betas. Alpha heirs. Some were decent men. Some were idiots with impressive family trees.”

A few of the older wolves made suspicious coughing noises.

“Some offered me things I had absolutely no interest in accepting. A few didn't take rejection particularly well.”

Nixon's expression changed.

“What does that mean?”

I looked at him.

“It means a few of them learned the hard way that no is a complete sentence.”

His jaw tightened.

“Did they hurt you?”

There.

That voice.

Low.

Controlled.

With something dangerous moving underneath it.

The sound sent an entirely inappropriate thrill through my wolf.

Alpha.

I almost rolled my eyes.

Of course she liked that.

“I handled it,” I said.

“Val.”

“Nix.”

His eyes narrowed.

I raised an eyebrow.

For half a second, we stared each other down.

And Goddess help me, it felt familiar.

Like being fourteen again, arguing over whose idea it had been to sneak into a training exercise neither of us had permission to attend.

The difference was that Nixon was no longer a boy.

And I wasn't the girl who'd left.

“I handled it,” I repeated. “A few ended up in the infirmary. They recovered.”

Jake let out a strangled laugh.

Nixon didn't.

His attention stayed fixed on me.

“You shouldn't have had to.”

“No,” I agreed. “I shouldn't.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

Anger.

Not at me.

For me.

And for one dangerous moment, I wanted to step toward him.

Wanted to see whether he'd still reach for my hand the way he used to when we were children.

Wanted to pretend the last four years hadn't happened.

But they had.

And Amber was still standing there.

“So yes,” I said, drawing my attention back to her. “I had choices. I turned them down.”

“All of them?” Nixon asked.

I looked at him.

“Every one.”

His throat moved.

“Why?”

I stared at him.

“Because I wanted to know if it was you, dumbass.”

A stunned silence followed.

Then someone behind Dad snorted.

I didn't look to see who.

I had a strong suspicion half the older pack members were remembering a dozen childhood arguments that had started with me calling their future Alpha a dumbass.

Nixon's mouth twitched.

Just once.

And there he was again.

My Nix.

The boy who used to grin at me right before suggesting something spectacularly stupid.

The boy who'd always been brave enough to challenge me.

The boy who'd never needed anyone's permission to be himself.

Then the smile vanished.

His gaze dropped.

“You waited.”

“Yes.”

“For four years.”

“Yes.”

He looked at Amber.

Then at me.

And I watched the realization settle.

Not the mate bond.

That part he'd already understood.

This was something far more human.

I had waited to find out.

He hadn't.

“Val,” he said quietly. “I didn't know.”

“I know.”

“I didn't know you were my mate.”

He shook his head.

“But you waited anyway.”

I swallowed.

“Yes.”

His expression tightened.

“I didn't.”

There it was.

Not an excuse.

Not an attempt to hide behind fate.

Just the truth.

And it hurt more than I wanted it to.

“No, dumbass,” I said softly. “You didn't.”

Amber made a broken sound.

“This isn't fair.”

I looked at her.

She was crying now.

Real tears.

Not the theatrical kind.

The kind that made it difficult to breathe.

“We've been together for two years,” she said to Nixon. “You told me you loved me. You said we had a future.”

Nixon faced her fully.

“I know what I said.”

“Then you can't just throw it away.”

His expression was grim.

“I'm not pretending those two years didn't happen.”

“Then choose me.”

The clearing went very still.

Amber reached for his shirt.

“Nixon. Please.”

He caught her hands gently.

For a moment, I thought he might say something reassuring.

Something diplomatic.

Something designed to keep everyone comfortable.

Instead, he lowered her hands.

“Amber, I won't lie to you.”

She shook her head.

“Don't.”

“I care about you. What we had mattered to me.”

“Then—”

“But I can't stand here and promise you a future when I know I can't give you one.”

His voice was steady.

Not cruel.

Not uncertain.

And I felt an unexpected flicker of respect.

There you are, Nix.

Amber pulled away.

“So that's it? Fate decides, and I don't get a say?”

“You get a say in your own life,” Nixon answered. “You always have.”

“Then reject the bond.”

My wolf lunged so hard against my control that I had to clench my fists.

NO.

Nixon's eyes flashed.

For an instant, the green darkened, his wolf pushing close enough to the surface that even the air around him seemed to change.

“Don't ask me that.”

It wasn't a shout.

It didn't need to be.

Amber stepped back.

I stared at him.

That voice.

I'd heard it before.

Years ago, when he'd stood in front of a pack of older boys who'd decided I didn't belong in their training games.

He hadn't been bigger than them.

Hadn't been stronger.

But he'd looked every one of them in the eye and told them they'd have to go through him first.

I'd immediately informed him that I could fight my own battles.

We'd argued about it for the rest of the afternoon.

Then we'd gone back and challenged those boys together.

I hadn't thought about that day in years.

But hearing Nixon now brought it back so clearly that my chest tightened.

He was still in there.

The Alpha heir who didn't need a council's permission to protect what mattered.

The boy who'd once stood beside me against the world.

He was still in there.

Xavier stepped forward.

“Amber,” he said carefully, “mate bonds can be ignored. Nixon doesn't have to act on this tonight.”

I turned my head.

Slowly.

For a moment, I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly.

My brother. Nixon's Beta. Standing in front of our family and telling Nixon's girlfriend that ignoring his fated mate was a perfectly reasonable option.

“Really, Xav?”

He looked at me.

“What?”

“Mate bonds can be ignored?”

His expression shifted.

“Val, that's not—”

“Good to know you care about your sister.”

He winced.

“That's not what I meant.”

“Then perhaps you should've said what you meant.”

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

I sighed.

“Goddess, did everyone in this pack forget how to communicate while I was gone?”

Jake made a choking sound.

Possibly laughter.

Possibly an attempt to survive the evening.

I didn't care which.

Mom stepped toward me.

“Sweetheart…”

Her eyes were wet.

“You were so young when you left. And now look at you.”

I managed a small smile.

“Still causing problems, apparently.”

She gave a watery laugh.

But I couldn't stay there.

Not with everyone watching.

Not with my wolf celebrating while the rest of me tried to hold itself together.

Not with Nixon standing so close that I could feel the pull of him every time I breathed.

I needed space.

I needed movement.

I needed to hit something.

Preferably something that could hit back.

I looked at Nixon.

“You two have a lot to talk about.”

His brow furrowed.

“Val—”

“I'm going to find the training grounds.”

He stared at me.

“The training grounds?”

“Yes. You remember those, don't you?”

“Of course I remember—”

“Good. Then you know where to find me.”

I turned.

“Val, wait.”

I kept walking.

Behind me, I heard Xavier swear.

“Shit. Val, that's not what I meant. I was trying to—”

“I know, Xav.”

I didn't stop.

Jake's voice rose behind me.

“Hold on. You moved on?”

Oh, wonderful.

The little brother had caught up.

“Nixon, what the hell were you thinking? Everyone knew you two were—”

“Jake,” Nixon warned.

“No, seriously. You and Val? The whole pack spent years betting on whether you'd figure it out before you burned down the training grounds!”

Despite everything, I almost smiled.

There was a good chance that wasn't even an exaggeration.

“Val!”

Nixon again.

Closer this time.

I heard his footsteps.

Then Amber's voice cut through the clearing.

“Don't you dare go after her!”

I stopped.

Not because Amber had ordered him to.

Because I wanted to hear what Nixon would do.

“Nixon, please,” she said. “We can work this out. We can fight the bond. We can—”

“Amber.”

His voice was quiet.

Firm.

“Let go.”

A pause.

“Please. I need to speak to her.”

My wolf practically rolled over in delight.

He comes.

He can come after he's finished dealing with the mess he's made.

I started walking again.

Faster now.

The familiar path opened ahead of me.

The trees were taller than I remembered.

Or maybe I'd just forgotten how small the world had felt when Nixon and I were children.

We'd raced through these woods a thousand times.

Argued over shortcuts.

Dared each other to jump streams we had no business trying to clear.

Once, we'd returned home so filthy that Sofia had refused to let either of us through the front door.

Nixon had blamed me.

I'd blamed him.

Both our fathers had known perfectly well we were lying.

I smiled at the memory.

Then the smile faded.

Because I could remember the boy so clearly.

And I wasn't entirely sure what had happened to the man.

That was the part I couldn't stop thinking about.

Not just Amber.

Not just the two years.

The way he'd hesitated.

The way he'd looked to everyone else before speaking.

The way the fire in him had appeared only in flashes.

Nixon Hale had never been a boy who waited for permission.

We'd been troublemakers.

Legends, according to some of the older pack members.

And Nixon had been responsible for at least half the trouble.

Usually more.

I knew.

I'd been there.

So what had happened while I was gone?

I pushed the question aside.

One disaster at a time.

The training grounds came into view through the trees.

Goddess, I knew this place.

The packed dirt.

The weapon racks.

The smell of sweat and leather.

The satisfying sound of fists striking practice pads.

Home.

Not the soft, sentimental kind.

The kind that lived in your muscles.

Three warriors were running drills beneath the watchful eye of an older man with silver streaking his hair.

His arms were crossed.

His stance was familiar.

And even from a distance, I recognized the scars.

Marcus Stone.

Head trainer.

One of the few men who'd ever managed to make both Nixon and me listen for longer than five minutes.

Mostly because he was smart enough to make the lessons interesting.

Marcus Stone looked up as I approached.

His eyes narrowed.

Then widened.

"Well, I'll be damned."

I grinned.

"Hey, Marcus."

He stared at me for another moment before a slow smile spread across his face.

"Little Valentina Voss."

"Depends who's asking."

He laughed.

"Four years at Moonfang, and you come strolling onto my training grounds like you never left."

Goddess, it was good to see him.

Marcus had been training Hale warriors for longer than I could remember. He'd taught me how to hold my first practice sword, corrected my footwork approximately ten thousand times, and once threatened to tie Nixon and me to separate trees if we didn't stop turning his lessons into competitions.

He'd never followed through.

Probably because we would have turned escaping into another competition.

His dark hair had more silver in it now, and a few new scars marked his forearms, but those sharp, patient eyes hadn't changed.

They were studying me now.

"What's happened, little Voss?"

I looked toward the training rings.

A few warriors were running drills beneath the fading evening light. Most of the pack remained at the homecoming gathering, which meant the grounds were relatively quiet.

For the moment.

"Nothing I can't work out in a ring."

Marcus folded his arms.

"Does your father know you're here?"

"He knows I'm home."

"That's not what I asked."

I shrugged.

His mouth twitched.

"There she is."

I tried to smile.

It almost worked.

Marcus noticed.

Of course he noticed.

He'd been reading my moods since I was small enough to need both hands to lift a wooden practice sword.

"Nixon?"

I didn't answer.

I didn't need to.

Marcus sighed.

"Ah."

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"That was a very judgmental 'ah.'"

"Wouldn't dream of judging you, Valentina."

"Liar."

He laughed softly.

Then his expression gentled.

"Your father used to come out here sometimes, you know."

That caught me off guard.

"What?"

"While you were away. Usually when he was worried about you. He'd stand over by the fence and watch the boys train."

I looked toward the fence.

Dad.

I'd spent four years imagining my family carrying on without me. Eating dinner. Celebrating birthdays. Arguing over stupid things.

I'd never pictured my father standing alone at the training grounds because he missed his daughter.

My throat tightened.

"He's proud of you," Marcus said.

"I know."

My voice came out quieter than I'd intended.

"He always was."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I turned toward him.

"Marcus?"

"Hmm?"

"If you make me cry, I'm going to hit you."

He grinned.

"Then I'd better find you an opponent."

"Actually, I have something else in mind."

His grin faltered.

I smiled sweetly.

"What?"

"I'd like you to assemble your warriors."

"How many?"

"All of them."

Marcus stared at me.

"Every available warrior," I clarified. "Anyone not on essential duty, obviously. I'm not asking you to abandon the borders."

"Valentina."

"Marcus."

"What exactly are you planning?"

"A little exercise."

"Oh, Goddess."

I brightened.

"See? You remember me!"

"Unfortunately, yes."

I stepped toward the central ring.

"I want to challenge them. One at a time."

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he started laughing.

Not a polite chuckle.

A full, booming laugh that echoed across the training grounds.

"Four years at the most prestigious warrior academy in the territories, and the first thing you do when you come home is ask me to let you fight my entire training roster?"

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds excessive."

"It is excessive!"

"Then think of it as a professional development opportunity. Also, I badly need to hit someone. It's a win-win, really."

He laughed harder.

Eventually, he wiped a hand over his face.

"You're serious."

"Painfully."

His gaze moved over my stance, my shoulders, my hands.

I hadn't realized I'd curled them into fists.

I opened them.

Marcus pretended not to notice.

"One at a time," he repeated.

"Yes."

"No claws. No teeth. No killing blows. A clean takedown, submission, or yield ends each match. I call a stop whenever I choose."

"Agreed."

"And if I decide you've had enough?"

"Then we'll have a spirited discussion about your judgment."

"Of course we will."

I gave him my most innocent smile.

"Would you prefer I challenge you first?"

"Absolutely not. I've spent twenty years developing these warriors. I'd like to see whether they're worth the trouble before you start rearranging them."

"You don't sound particularly concerned about me."

Marcus gave me a long, knowing look.

"Should I be, Commander?"

I glanced toward the warriors training in the distance.

"Probably not."

"That's what I thought."

I smiled.

"This should be fun."

"Goddess help my warriors."

I laughed.

A real laugh.

It surprised me.

For half a heartbeat, the tightness in my chest loosened.

Then I remembered Nixon standing beside Amber. His arm around her. The way he'd looked at me when he realized what day it was.

Four years.

He'd forgotten.

The ache returned.

"Val," Marcus said gently. "Sometimes you can't fight your way out of what's hurting you."

"I know."

And I did.

I couldn't change the last four years. I couldn't undo the sight of Nixon holding another woman.

But I could do something besides stand around letting the pain swallow me.

I looked Marcus straight in the eye.

"I need this."

He held my gaze.

Then nodded once.

"All right."

He turned toward the nearest warrior.

"Get the word out. All available warriors report to the central ring. Training exercise. Now."

The warrior blinked.

"All of them, sir?"

Marcus glanced at me.

I smiled.

"All of them."

It took approximately ten minutes for the training grounds to become considerably more interesting.

Warriors arrived in small groups, some still wearing their clothes from the gathering, others coming straight from evening drills.

And because Hale Pack had never possessed the slightest talent for minding its own business, word spread.

Quickly.

By the time Marcus finished organizing the fighters, spectators had begun appearing along the fence.

Wonderful.

Apparently, I was going to have an audience.

Again.

I was stretching beside the central ring when a familiar voice interrupted me.

"Valentina?"

I turned.

Luna Sofia stood a few feet away, looking between me and the gathering warriors.

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

She sighed, but her smile gave her away.

"Val."

"Hey, Luna Sofia."

She pulled me into a hug.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's so good to have you home."

I hugged her back.

"I missed you too."

When she stepped away, she studied me with suspiciously bright eyes.

"Four years. Look at you."

I grinned.

"Magnificent, aren't I?"

She laughed.

"Still modest."

"One of my finer qualities."

Her smile lingered.

"Val, have you noticed anything different about Nixon?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Besides the fact that he's grown about a foot and apparently forgotten how calendars work?"

She smiled faintly.

"He's become so serious. So careful about everything. Amber's always preferred things a little more proper. And Nixon seemed happy enough with that. I suppose I just miss seeing him get muddy and laugh until he can't breathe."

I glanced toward the path.

"He was never particularly good at being proper."

"No," Sofia said, laughing softly. "Especially when you were around."

"Usually his fault."

"That's not how I remember it."

"History is written by the survivors."

She laughed again, but the amusement faded.

"I love the man he's becoming, Val. I just miss the boy who used to come home covered in mud, laughing because the two of you had spent the afternoon trying to knock each other into the creek."

I remembered those afternoons.

Goddess, I missed them.

"He usually lost," I said.

"He would disagree."

"Frequently."

Sofia squeezed my hand.

"I wonder if that boy is still in there somewhere."

I looked toward the training ring.

Then back at her.

"Oh, he's in there."

I smiled.

"I might just have to knock him loose."

Sofia burst out laughing.

"Somehow, sweetheart, I think you might."

She kissed my cheek.

"Just try not to give Eli any more gray hair."

"No promises."

"Valentina."

"Fine. I'll try."

She gave me a knowing look.

"Really, Luna Sofia. You're asking an awful lot of me."

By the time I stepped into the ring, the crowd had grown considerably.

Marcus stood beside the entrance with a clipboard and the expression of a man who'd agreed to something he was beginning to regret.

I loved that expression.

I'd seen it enough growing up.

"Rules!" he called.

The conversations quieted.

"One-on-one sparring. No claws, no teeth, no killing blows. A clean takedown, submission, or yield ends the match. I decide when a fighter is finished. Anyone who disregards my instructions is out. Understood?"

A chorus of agreement rose from the assembled warriors.

"Good."

He turned toward me.

"Last chance to change your mind."

I gave him my biggest smile.

"Not a chance."

Marcus shook his head.

"First opponent!"

Derek stepped forward.

Of course he did.

Broad shoulders. Short dark hair. A grin that suggested he'd never encountered a mirror he didn't like.

I knew him.

Unfortunately.

"Little Valentina Voss."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Derek."

He looked me over.

"Moonfang must've been feeding you well."

"Apparently not as well as they've been feeding you."

A few warriors snickered.

His grin widened.

"Still got that mouth."

"Still compensating for something, I see."

The laughter grew.

"Valentina," Marcus warned.

"What? We're catching up."

Derek stepped into the ring.

"Don't worry, little Voss. I'll go easy on you."

I smiled.

"Oh, sweetheart. That's adorable."

Marcus gave us both a look.

"Ready?"

Derek nodded.

I shrugged.

The whistle blew.

Derek approached with his guard up, circling to my left.

Well, look at that. He actually remembered his training.

His opening combination was quick, his footwork solid, his balance good.

Marcus had done well with him.

Unfortunately, Derek was still treating me like the sixteen-year-old girl he remembered.

He pulled his next strike.

I caught his wrist, stepped inside his guard, and put him flat on his back.

Hard.

The training ground went silent.

Derek blinked up at the sky.

I leaned over him.

"You can stop going easy on me now."

Someone behind Marcus choked on a laugh.

"What the hell?" Derek muttered.

"Four years, Derek. You missed a few things."

He started to rise, but Marcus's whistle sounded.

"Match!"

"Come on, Marcus. I wasn't ready!"

Marcus folded his arms.

"You were in the ring. The whistle blew. You were ready."

I offered Derek my hand.

He hesitated before taking it.

I pulled him upright.

"You've gotten good," I told him.

He gave me an incredulous look.

"I just spent five seconds on my back."

"Six, actually. But who's counting?"

He groaned.

I laughed and gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze.

"Seriously, Derek. Marcus has trained you well."

"Then how the hell did you do that?"

"You were holding back."

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Then shook his head.

"Not making that mistake again."

"Good. Your guard was solid until you decided I needed protecting. Trust your training next time."

He considered that, then nodded.

"Next time, then."

I grinned.

"Looking forward to it."

I turned toward Marcus.

"Next?"

He shook his head, laughing.

"You're enjoying this."

"Mmmhm."

"Next!"

Sienna stepped forward.

Now this was interesting.

Auburn hair pulled into a severe braid. Lean, balanced, with a pale scar crossing one forearm.

No swagger. No ridiculous grin.

She'd watched Derek's match, and judging by the way she was studying me, she'd learned something from it.

Smart girl.

"Valentina Voss."

I inclined my head.

"Sienna, isn't it?"

She looked surprised.

"You remember me?"

"You broke a boy's nose for pulling your braid when we were younger."

"He pulled it twice."

"Then he was lucky you only broke it once."

The corner of her mouth lifted.

Oh, I liked her already.

We took our positions.

"Ready?" Marcus called.

Sienna nodded.

"Whenever you are," I said.

The whistle blew.

Sienna moved first.

Fast.

A feint high, followed by a low strike that I barely redirected.

Oh.

Hello.

I stepped back, reassessing.

She followed, watching my shoulders instead of my hands.

I tested her guard.

She blocked the first strike, slipped the second, and caught my forearm with a sharp counter.

The impact stung.

A few warriors cheered.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

I grinned.

"Oh, I really like you."

"Wonderful," she said dryly.

Then she attacked again.

I laughed and met her.

For several glorious seconds, we traded strikes, each of us searching for an opening.

She was quick. Disciplined. And unlike Derek, she wasn't giving me an inch.

I caught her shoulder with a glancing blow.

She answered with one of her own.

Goddess, this felt good.

No Amber.

No bonfire.

No four years of waiting.

Just a good fight.

Sienna shifted her weight.

There.

I stepped inside her guard, caught her arm, and swept her leg.

She hit the ground but immediately twisted, trying to roll free.

Oh, clever.

I followed, secured her wrist, and pinned her shoulder.

"Yield?"

She tested the hold.

Once.

Then sighed.

"Yield."

Marcus's whistle sounded.

I released her and offered my hand.

She took it without hesitation.

"You're fast," she said.

"So are you."

"Not fast enough, apparently."

I smiled.

"Give yourself some credit. That was a good fight."

She glanced toward the ring, then back at me.

"Rematch sometime?"

"Oh, absolutely."

Her smile widened.

"Good."

She headed toward the other warriors.

Well.

That had been fun.

By the fourth opponent, the crowd had stopped treating the exercise like a novelty.

By the sixth, the warriors were studying me instead of simply trying to overpower me.

Good.

That was exactly what I wanted.

Hale Pack had capable fighters. Some stronger, some faster, some more experienced.

Every one of them brought something different into the ring.

And every one deserved to be taken seriously.

Marcus Stone Jr. entered next.

I blinked.

"Marcus?"

He grinned.

"Hello, Val."

I looked toward his father.

Then back at him.

"Oh, that's ridiculous."

He laughed.

The gangly boy I remembered had apparently spent four years growing into a wall.

A very large wall.

"What have they been feeding you?"

"Everything," Sienna called from the fence.

The warriors laughed.

Marcus Jr. spread his arms.

"What can I say? I'm a growing boy."

"Growing into what? A mountain?"

"Jealous?"

"Deeply. I've always wanted to be able to reach the top shelf."

He laughed, settling into his stance.

And just like that, the joking stopped.

Oh.

He was good.

Not just big. Not just strong.

Balanced. Patient. His guard was tight, and he wasn't offering an easy opening.

I glanced toward Marcus Sr.

He was watching us with the faintest smile.

Of course he was.

"Ready?" he called.

Marcus Jr. nodded.

I grinned.

"Let's see what you've got, big guy."

The whistle blew.

I moved first.

A quick combination. High, low, high.

He blocked all three.

Well, damn.

I tried to slip inside his reach.

He shifted, cutting off my angle, and drove a controlled strike toward my ribs.

I barely blocked it.

The impact rattled my shoulder.

Goddess.

He hit like a runaway wagon.

I retreated.

He followed.

Not recklessly. Not rushing.

Just steadily taking away my space.

Oh, his father had taught him well.

I ducked beneath his next strike and landed a solid hit against his side.

He grunted.

Then grinned.

"That all you've got?"

I laughed.

"Oh, Marcus. You really shouldn't ask me that."

I changed tactics.

Instead of trying to overpower him, I made him move.

Left. Right. A feint. Another change of direction.

He adjusted well, but his size made every shift more costly.

When he drove forward again, I gave ground.

One step.

Two.

He pressed the advantage.

There it was.

I pivoted, caught his extended arm, and turned with his momentum.

For one glorious second, the mountain was airborne.

Then he hit the dirt.

Hard.

The ground practically shook.

I followed him down, secured his arm, and planted my weight where he couldn't easily throw me off.

He tried anyway.

Goddess, he was strong.

"Yield?" I asked.

"Working on it."

"Take your time. I've got nowhere to be."

He laughed despite himself, made one last attempt to escape, then slapped the ground.

"Yield!"

Marcus's whistle sounded.

I released him and rolled to my feet.

"Well, that was rude."

Marcus Jr. blinked up at me.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I think you nearly knocked my shoulder into next week."

He burst out laughing.

I offered him my hand.

"Val, I outweigh you by at least a hundred pounds."

"Are you getting up or decorating the ring?"

He took my hand, and I braced myself to help him up.

"You're something else, Valentina."

"Magnificent, I know."

"Insufferable, actually."

"That too."

I glanced toward his father.

Marcus Stone stood with his arms folded, looking thoroughly pleased.

"Did I break your son?"

"Unfortunately, no. He's still going to eat me out of house and home."

"Good. I'd hate to ruin your retirement plans."

Marcus Jr. chuckled.

I turned back to him.

"So, big guy. What do you think happened?"

He considered the question.

"I had you on the defensive."

"You did."

"But I kept pressing when you started giving ground."

I waited.

He frowned slightly.

"You weren't retreating because you had to. You were making me follow."

I smiled.

"And?"

"I knew you were faster. I should've made you come to me instead of chasing you around the ring."

"Would that have worked?"

He grinned.

"Would've made your job harder."

I laughed.

"That it would."

Marcus Sr. was watching his son with unmistakable pride.

I gave Marcus Jr.'s arm a friendly squeeze.

"Remind me not to give you a second chance today."

"Scared?"

"Terrified."

He laughed and headed back toward the fence.

I watched him go.

That one was going to be worth keeping an eye on.

I spotted Alpha Eli and Dad standing near the fence.

Both wore expressions I recognized immediately.

Concern.

Resignation.

And the unmistakable look of two men wondering whether they should have intervened twenty minutes ago.

Oh, this ought to be good.

Eli glanced at my father.

"Ben."

"Alpha."

"She's your daughter."

Dad folded his arms.

"And you're her Alpha."

Eli looked toward the ring.

"You could stop this."

"So could you."

After a pause, Eli sighed.

"Remember when she convinced the entire junior training class to climb the east wall?"

Dad rubbed his forehead.

"Remember when your son helped her?"

"Unfortunately."

"They said it was a tactical exercise."

"They were twelve."

"And very committed to the exercise."

I bit the inside of my cheek.

Oh, Goddess.

I'd missed them.

Eli looked at Dad again.

"I thought four years at Moonfang might have settled her down."

Dad watched me stretch my aching shoulder.

"Apparently, they made her worse."

I heard that.

Naturally.

I turned toward them and smiled.

Dad immediately looked suspicious.

Eli sighed.

"There's that expression."

"What expression?" Dad asked.

"The one she gets right before we regret something."

Dad studied me.

Then nodded.

"Ah. That one."

I blew them a kiss.

Neither looked reassured.

The next few matches went quickly.

Not because the warriors were easy opponents.

Far from it.

They'd stopped underestimating me, and every new fighter seemed determined not to repeat the mistakes of the last.

One tried to overpower me.

Another nearly caught me with a particularly clever feint.

A third apparently decided the best defense was to avoid letting me get close enough to hit him.

That one was entertaining.

By the time Marcus called a short break, my hair was damp with sweat, my muscles were pleasantly sore, and I was finally beginning to feel like myself again.

Not entirely.

But enough.

I took the water Marcus offered and was halfway through drinking it when my wolf suddenly stirred.

Mate.

I froze.

Pine.

Rain.

Oh, for Goddess's sake.

I lowered the bottle.

Nixon stood near the entrance to the training grounds, Jake beside him and Xavier a few steps behind.

His green eyes found mine immediately.

He looked tired.

Not physically. Something else.

The sort of tired that came from a conversation nobody wanted to have.

My stomach tightened.

I knew where he'd been.

Or at least I had a pretty good idea.

I walked toward the fence.

"You're late."

He blinked.

"Late?"

"Yes."

"For what?"

I smiled.

"Your education."

Jake snorted.

Xavier looked between us.

Nix didn't smile.

Not yet.

"Val, I need to tell you something."

Oh.

Here we go.

I straightened.

"What?"

He glanced briefly toward Jake and Xavier, then looked back at me.

"I broke up with Amber."

For a moment, the noise of the training grounds seemed to fade.

I studied his face.

"Are you okay?"

He let out a breath.

"I will be."

I nodded.

"And Amber?"

His jaw tightened.

"She's hurt. Angry. She wanted me to reconsider."

I waited.

"I told her I couldn't."

There was no triumph in his voice.

Good.

I wouldn't have wanted there to be.

"She didn't deserve to find out about us in front of everyone," he added quietly.

"No," I agreed. "She didn't."

He looked at me.

"But I wasn't going to reject you, Val."

My wolf pressed eagerly against my ribs.

Mate.

“I know, sweetheart.”

I held his gaze for another moment.

There was so much we needed to talk about.

Four years' worth, apparently.

But not here.

Not with half the pack watching.

I gave him a small smile.

"Tell me about it after."

His eyebrows rose.

"After?"

"Yes."

"After what?"

I grinned.

"Your education."

Jake started laughing.

Nix stared at me.

I leaned against the fence.

"You're last."

His expression changed.

"Last?"

"Last opponent."

He looked toward the ring.

Then back at me.

"You want to fight me?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"Val—"

"Don't start. You're going to watch every match between now and then."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to study me."

He frowned.

"Study you?"

"Every move. Every technique. Every mistake."

I tilted my head.

"Four years, Nix. You haven't seen me fight in four years."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"No. I haven't."

"And I haven't seen you fight either."

I smiled.

"So I'm giving you a chance."

"An advantage?"

"Only if you know what to do with it."

There.

That little flash in his eyes.

The one I remembered.

His mouth curved.

"You're awfully confident."

I laughed.

"Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea."

Then I turned toward Marcus.

"Next!"

Jake waited until I'd stepped back into the ring before he started.

Naturally.

He had never possessed the slightest instinct for self-preservation.

"You know," he called loudly, "I feel like we should establish something before this starts."

I closed my eyes.

"Jake."

"Just trying to prevent a family argument."

Nixon glanced toward his brother. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, if Trouble wins, you're never going to hear the end of it."

"Obviously," I said.

"And if Nix wins, she's going to demand a rematch."

"Also obviously."

Jake spread his hands. "See? No matter what happens, the rest of us lose."

Xavier laughed.

I pointed at Jake. "Keep talking, and you're next."

He grinned. "There's the girl I remember."

I caught Jake's eye and smirked.

His grin widened.

Oh, he knew.

He knew exactly what was coming.

"Careful, little brother," Jake continued. "You're getting that look again."

Nixon frowned.

"What look?"

"The one you used to get right before Val talked you into doing something spectacularly stupid."

Nixon glanced toward me.

I raised an eyebrow.

He tried not to smile.

Failed.

Jake pointed.

"There he is."

I bit back a laugh.

Goddess, I'd missed this.

I'd missed all of it.

Marcus blew his whistle.

My next opponent moved.

And I turned my attention back to the fight.

The last of the remaining warriors cleared the ring.

Marcus checked his clipboard, then looked toward Nixon.

"Well, Valentina."

I took a slow breath.

My muscles were warm.

My pulse steady.

My wolf had gone very, very quiet.

Waiting.

"Still want your final opponent?"

I looked across the ring.

Nixon was already watching me.

His green eyes were bright, his shoulders relaxed, and that familiar, wicked grin was beginning to spread across his face.

There he was.

My Nix.

Not just the polished future Alpha who'd stood beside Amber at the bonfire.

The boy who'd challenged me to races.

The boy who'd laughed when I knocked him into the dirt, then gotten back up and demanded another round.

Only now he was a man.

A strong one.

A dangerous one.

And I wanted to know exactly how dangerous.

I smiled.

"Absolutely."

Marcus turned toward the fence.

"Nixon Hale!"

Nix straightened.

"Yes, sir?"

"You're up."

Jake immediately started laughing.

"Oh, this is going to be good."

Nixon reached for the hem of his shirt.

Pulled it over his head.

And tossed it at his brother.

"Hold that."

Jake caught it.

"Try not to get your nice trousers dirty, too."

I would have laughed.

Really, I would have.

Except Nixon Hale had just taken off his shirt.

Oh.

Oh, Goddess.

Four years had been very, very kind to this man.

Broad shoulders. A sculpted chest. Muscles that shifted beneath his skin as he rolled his neck.

And those ridiculous lines disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers.

Well.

That was just unnecessary.

My wolf practically threw herself against my ribs.

Mate.

“Yes, I see him.”

Ours.

“I'm aware.”

Want.

“Oh, we were going to have a serious conversation about timing.”

Nix stepped into the ring.

His eyes hadn't left mine.

And judging by the slow, wicked smile spreading across his face, he knew exactly what he was doing.

The bastard.

Heat curled low in my stomach.

The bond stirred, warm and insistent.

For one dangerous heartbeat, I forgot about the ring.

Then Nix raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong, Val?"

Oh, he was enjoying this.

I smiled sweetly.

"Just wondering whether taking your shirt off is a legitimate fighting strategy or an act of desperation."

Jake howled.

Nix laughed.

"Distracted?"

"Keep dreaming, Hale."

I settled into my stance.

My wolf huffed.

Want mate.

“You can have his attention.”

Want more.

“Win the fight first.”

She considered that.

Then settled back, positively delighted.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Four years, Val."

I smiled back.

"Four years, Nix."

He glanced toward the warriors gathered around the ring.

Then back at me.

"You gave me a lot to think about."

"Good."

His grin widened.

"That was generous."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't thank me yet."

He laughed.

Then his expression sharpened.

The laughter didn't disappear entirely.

It settled into something fierce.

Something familiar.

Something I'd missed more than I could possibly explain.

Across the ring, I caught a glimpse of Sofia standing beside Eli.

She was watching her son.

And she was smiling.

I looked at Nix.

At the challenge in his eyes.

At the grin he wasn't even trying to hide.

Marcus stepped between us.

"Both fighters ready?"

Nixon held my gaze.

"Ready."

I rolled my shoulders.

"Born ready."

Marcus sighed.

"Of course you were."

Nix laughed.

I grinned.

We weren't children anymore.

We weren't the same people who'd raced through these woods and argued over who was faster.

But something important had survived.

Something neither time nor distance had managed to destroy.

Nixon Hale looked at me with that wicked, familiar smile.

"Try to keep up, Val."

I smiled back.

"Oh, sweetheart."

His eyes flashed.

I settled into my stance.

"You're going to regret saying that."

Marcus raised his whistle.

And the entire training ground went silent.

The last of the remaining warriors cleared the ring.

Marcus checked his clipboard, then looked toward Nixon.

"Well, Valentina."

I took a slow breath.

My muscles were warm.

My pulse steady.

My wolf had gone very, very quiet.

Waiting.

"Still want your final opponent?"

I looked across the ring.

Nixon was already watching me.

His green eyes were bright, his shoulders relaxed, and that familiar, wicked grin was beginning to spread across his face.

There he was.

My Nix.

Not just the polished future Alpha who'd stood beside Amber at the bonfire.

The boy who'd challenged me to races.

The boy who'd laughed when I knocked him into the dirt, then gotten back up and demanded another round.

Only now he was a man.

A strong one.

A dangerous one.

And I wanted to know exactly how dangerous.

I smiled.

"Absolutely."

Marcus turned toward the fence.

"Nixon Hale!"

Nix straightened.

"Yes, sir?"

"You're up."

Jake immediately started laughing.

"Oh, this is going to be good."

Nixon reached for the hem of his shirt.

Pulled it over his head.

And tossed it at his brother.

"Hold that."

Jake caught it.

"Try not to get your nice trousers dirty, too."

I would have laughed.

Really, I would have.

Except Nixon Hale had just taken off his shirt.

Oh.

Oh, Goddess.

Four years had been very, very kind to this man.

Broad shoulders. A sculpted chest. Muscles that shifted beneath his skin as he rolled his neck.

And those ridiculous lines disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers.

Well.

That was just unnecessary.

My wolf practically threw herself against my ribs.

Mate.

“Yes, I see him.”

Ours.

“I'm aware.”

Want.

“Oh, we were going to have a serious conversation about timing.”

Nix stepped into the ring.

His eyes hadn't left mine.

And judging by the slow, wicked smile spreading across his face, he knew exactly what he was doing.

The bastard.

Heat curled low in my stomach.

The bond stirred, warm and insistent.

Nix's nostrils flared.

Oh, hell.

He could smell it.

Of course he could. Wolves could hide plenty of things, but arousal wasn't one of them.

His wicked smile deepened.

The bastard.

For one dangerous heartbeat, I forgot about the ring.

Then Nix raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong, Val?"

Oh, he was enjoying this.

I smiled sweetly.

"Just wondering whether taking your shirt off is a legitimate fighting strategy or an act of desperation."

Jake howled.

Nix laughed.

"Distracted?"

"Keep dreaming, Hale."

I settled into my stance.

My wolf huffed.

Want mate.

“You can have his attention.”

Want more.

“Win the fight first.”

She considered that.

Then settled back, positively delighted.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Four years, Val."

I smiled back.

"Four years, Nix."

He glanced toward the warriors gathered around the ring.

Then back at me.

"You gave me a lot to think about."

"Good."

His grin widened.

"That was generous."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't thank me yet."

He laughed.

Then his expression sharpened.

The laughter didn't disappear entirely.

It settled into something fierce.

Something familiar.

Something I'd missed more than I could possibly explain.

Across the ring, I caught a glimpse of Sofia standing beside Eli.

She was watching her son.

And she was smiling.

I looked at Nix.

At the challenge in his eyes.

At the grin he wasn't even trying to hide.

Marcus stepped between us.

"Both fighters ready?"

Nixon held my gaze.

"Ready."

I rolled my shoulders.

"Born ready."

Marcus sighed.

"Of course you were."

Nix laughed.

I grinned.

We weren't children anymore.

We weren't the same people who'd raced through these woods and argued over who was faster.

But something important had survived.

Something neither time nor distance had managed to destroy.

Nixon Hale looked at me with that wicked, familiar smile.

"Try to keep up, Val."

I smiled back.

"Oh, sweetheart."

His eyes flashed.

I settled into my stance.

"You're going to regret saying that."

Marcus raised his whistle.

And the entire training ground went silent.

The whistle blew.

Nix moved first.

Oh.

Well, that was new.

The boy I remembered had always preferred to let me make the first move. Said it gave him a chance to figure out what trouble I was planning.

Apparently, four years had changed his mind.

He came in fast, testing my guard with a sharp combination.

High. Low. High.

I caught the first two strikes and slipped the third.

Barely.

Well, hello, Nixon Hale.

He grinned.

"Something wrong, Val?"

"Just surprised you remembered how to fight."

"Keep talking."

I countered with a quick strike toward his ribs.

He shifted before I could connect.

Not away.

Into the movement.

He caught my wrist, turned his shoulder, and nearly swept my feet out from under me.

I twisted free just in time.

We separated.

I stared at him.

He smiled.

Oh, that smug bastard.

He'd been watching.

Really watching.

That was almost exactly how I'd taken down one of Marcus's warriors earlier.

Only Nix had already worked out how to counter it.

Well.

Wasn't that interesting?

My wolf practically bounced.

Strong mate.

Yes, sweetheart. I noticed.

Good fighter.

Also noticed.

Nix circled to my left.

I followed, keeping my guard high.

He was bigger than I remembered. Stronger, too. And the easy balance in his movements told me he hadn't spent the last four years sitting around looking handsome.

Although he'd apparently found time for that as well.

The bastard.

He feinted toward my shoulder.

I didn't bite.

He tried my ribs.

Blocked.

Then he shifted his weight and came at me from an angle I hadn't expected.

His forearm caught my guard hard enough to send a jolt through my shoulder.

I gave ground.

One step.

Then another.

Oh, he was good.

Not just strong.

Smart.

He wasn't wasting energy trying to overpower me. He was testing my reactions, watching where I shifted my weight, looking for the openings he'd spent the last several matches studying.

Exactly what I'd told him to do.

And damn it, he was doing it well.

I laughed.

Couldn't help it.

Nix raised an eyebrow.

"Having fun?"

"Oh, Babe. You have no idea."

I attacked.

Three quick strikes, a feint, and a low sweep.

He blocked the first, redirected the second, and barely avoided the sweep.

I caught his shoulder with the third.

He grunted.

The crowd cheered.

I grinned.

"There's one."

His eyes flashed.

"Counting?"

"Should I?"

"Only if you can keep up."

Oh, that did it.

I came at him again.

And this time, he met me.

Goddess, I'd missed this.

Not just fighting.

Him.

The way he anticipated my movements. The way he grinned when I surprised him. The familiar spark in his eyes every time one of us managed to get the better of the other.

We'd spent half our childhood trying to outdo each other.

Apparently, becoming adults hadn't cured us.

Nix drove forward with a combination that forced me to retreat.

I caught his next strike and turned, intending to use his momentum against him.

He adjusted before I could complete the throw.

Damn.

He'd seen that one, too.

His arm came around my waist.

My feet left the ground.

Oh, absolutely not.

I twisted, hooked my leg behind his, and dragged us both off balance.

We stumbled.

Recovered.

And suddenly I was pressed against his bare chest.

Pine.

Rain.

Warm skin.

Oh, Goddess.

My wolf surged so violently I nearly lost my footing.

Mate!

Yes!

Nix went still.

Just for a heartbeat.

His hand tightened against my waist.

His green eyes dropped to my mouth.

And the bond—

Goddess, the bond.

It pulled at something deep inside me, warm and insistent, making every sensible thought in my head scatter.

His nostrils flared.

Oh, fuck.

He knew.

The slow smile spreading across his face told me he knew exactly what having his hands on me was doing.

"Val?"

I narrowed my eyes.

"Don't."

His grin widened.

"Didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"Was I?"

Oh, he was going to regret that.

I drove my knee toward his thigh.

He twisted away, releasing me just before the strike connected.

I spun free.

He stepped back.

For a moment, we stared at each other.

Both breathing a little harder than the fight warranted.

Then he laughed.

A real, delighted laugh.

And something in my chest loosened.

There he was.

My Nix.

I smiled.

"Ready to stop flirting and fight?"

His eyebrows shot up.

"I'm flirting?"

"Terribly. It's embarrassing, really."

Jake's laughter carried across the ring.

"She's got you there, brother!"

Nix didn't even look at him.

"Remind me to kill him later."

"Get in line."

We grinned at each other.

Then he attacked.

The next exchange wiped the smile off my face.

Not because I wasn't enjoying myself.

Because Nixon Hale had apparently decided he'd had enough of playing.

His first strike hit my guard like a hammer.

I blocked the second.

Barely redirected the third.

Then he came in low, caught my leg, and drove forward.

I hit the dirt.

Hard.

The breath left my lungs.

Before I could recover, he was moving to secure my arm.

Oh, no, you don't.

I twisted, slipped my shoulder free, and rolled before he could establish the hold.

His hand caught my wrist.

I kicked against the ground, turned into him, and managed to break his grip.

We scrambled apart.

I came up on one knee.

He was already standing.

The crowd erupted.

I stared at him.

He grinned.

"Still think I'm embarrassing?"

I pushed myself upright.

"Getting there."

He laughed.

I rolled my shoulder.

That one was going to bruise.

Actually, several things were going to bruise.

My arms ached from blocking Marcus Jr.'s strikes. My legs were beginning to feel the accumulated effort of the evening, and the muscles along my back had started making their displeasure known.

I'd fought my way through nearly every available warrior in Hale Pack.

And now I was facing a rested Alpha heir who'd spent the last several matches studying me.

Brilliant plan, Valentina.

Absolutely brilliant.

My wolf huffed.

Strong mate.

“Yes, we've established that.”

Want him.

“You are spectacularly unhelpful”.

Nix circled.

I adjusted my stance.

He was watching my breathing now.

My shoulders.

My feet.

Oh, he knew.

He knew I was getting tired.

And judging by the calculating look in those beautiful green eyes, he intended to use it.

Good.

I'd have been disappointed if he didn't.

He came at me again.

I blocked, countered, and forced him to retreat.

Not far.

Just enough to buy myself a breath.

Then another.

I changed my rhythm.

Instead of meeting his strength, I made him move.

Left.

Right.

A quick feint toward his ribs.

He didn't fall for it.

Smart bastard.

I shifted again, caught his guard high, and drove a sharp strike toward his side.

Connected.

He grunted.

I smiled.

"Still with me, Hale?"

His grin returned.

"Getting tired, Voss?"

"Of your face? Years ago."

He laughed.

Then he nearly took my head off with a perfectly controlled strike.

I ducked.

"Rude!"

"Thought you wanted a fight!"

"I do! Doesn't mean you have to be unpleasant about it!"

Somewhere near the fence, Dad started laughing.

I didn't dare look.

Nix was entirely too dangerous to take my eyes off.

The next several minutes were glorious.

And exhausting.

He was everything I'd hoped he'd become.

Fast.

Powerful.

Disciplined.

And clever enough to recognize when a technique wasn't working.

He caught me with a sharp strike against my shoulder.

I answered with one to his ribs.

He forced me backward.

I slipped past his guard and nearly took him down.

Nearly.

He recovered at the last possible moment, turning what should have been a clean throw into an awkward scramble that sent us both stumbling across the ring.

We separated, breathing hard.

His chest rose and fell.

Sweat glistened along his shoulders.

There was dirt on his back and a fresh red mark beneath his ribs.

I suspected I looked considerably worse.

Good.

We were finally getting somewhere.

Nix wiped his forearm across his forehead.

"You're faster than I remember."

"You're slower."

He laughed.

"Liar."

"Terrible habit. I've been meaning to work on it."

He shook his head.

Then his expression shifted.

The grin remained, but something more serious settled behind it.

Respect.

Recognition.

He wasn't looking at the sixteen-year-old girl he'd left behind anymore.

He was looking at the woman standing in front of him.

And I was doing the same.

Nixon Hale wasn't just the boy who used to chase me through the woods.

He was a warrior.

A future Alpha.

And one hell of an opponent.

My wolf pressed against my ribs, fiercely pleased.

Our Alpha.

I smiled.

“Yes, sweetheart. Ours.”

Nix moved again.

Fast.

A feint high, followed by a sharp strike toward my ribs.

I blocked.

He shifted.

I adjusted.

He caught my forearm and pulled, trying to turn my momentum against me.

I'd seen him use that combination twice already.

And I'd been waiting for it.

I twisted free.

He anticipated the movement.

Of course he did.

His free hand caught my shoulder, and he drove forward, forcing me to give ground.

My heel slipped in the loose dirt.

Just slightly.

But he noticed.

His eyes sharpened.

Oh, hell.

He pressed.

I blocked his next strike, but my tired shoulder protested.

Another came toward my ribs.

I redirected it.

Barely.

He stepped closer.

Too close for a clean kick.

Too close to retreat without giving him my balance.

And he knew it.

The bastard was grinning.

"Got you, Val."

I smiled.

"Do you?"

He shifted his weight to finish the takedown.

And there it was.

Not a mistake born of carelessness.

Not an opening he'd been foolish enough to leave unguarded.

Just one fraction of a second when his commitment to the movement put his balance somewhere I could use it.

A tiny opening.

The kind that disappeared if you hesitated.

My wolf wanted me to stay close.

My training had other ideas.

I caught his wrist.

Stepped inside his guard.

And turned.

Nix reacted immediately.

Too late to stop the throw.

But fast enough to make it ugly.

He twisted as we fell, trying to drag me off balance with him.

We hit the dirt together.

Hard.

He rolled.

I followed.

His arm slipped halfway free.

Goddess, he was strong.

I adjusted my grip, hooked my leg across his shoulder, and shifted my weight before he could get his knees beneath him.

He bucked.

I nearly lost the hold.

Nearly.

My muscles screamed.

Oh, this was going to hurt tomorrow.

Nix twisted again, searching for leverage.

I tightened the lock.

He stopped moving.

Not because he'd given up.

Because he knew exactly what would happen if he tried to force his way out.

I was breathing hard.

So was he.

His green eyes met mine.

For one long heartbeat, neither of us spoke.

Then I smiled.

"Yield?"

His jaw tightened.

He tested the hold.

Once.

I adjusted just enough to remind him that I wasn't bluffing.

His eyes flashed.

Then, slowly, his mouth curved.

"Dammit, Val."

I grinned.

"That's not a yield."

He laughed.

Breathless.

Exasperated.

And sounding more like my Nix than he had since I'd come home.

"I yield."

Marcus's whistle shrieked.

"MATCH!"

The training grounds exploded.

I released him immediately.

Then rolled onto my back beside him.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

I stared up at the darkening sky, trying to remember how breathing worked.

Holy fucking hell.

I'd just pinned my mate in front of his entire pack.

And he'd made me work for every damn inch of it.

Beside me, Nix let out a breathless laugh.

I turned my head.

He was staring at me.

Dirt streaked his shoulder. His hair was a mess. His chest still rose and fell with the effort of the fight.

He looked magnificent.

The bastard.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Four years, Val."

I smiled.

"Miss me?"

"Apparently, I should've been training harder."

I laughed.

"Probably."

He turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow.

"You're incredible, you know that?"

My smile faltered.

There was no teasing in his voice.

No wounded pride.

Just genuine admiration.

My wolf practically rolled over.

Mate likes us.

“Yes, I noticed.”

Good mate.

Oh, Goddess.

Nix reached toward me.

His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair away from my cheek.

I forgot how to breathe.

Again.

His hand lingered.

Pine and rain surrounded me as he shifted a little closer.

The bond stirred.

Warm.

Insistent.

And suddenly the noise of the crowd seemed very far away.

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

Mine did the same.

Oh.

Oh, this was dangerous.

"NIXON!"

Jake's voice shattered the moment.

"YOU JUST GOT YOUR ASS HANDED TO YOU!"

The crowd erupted in laughter.

"BY MY LITTLE SISTER!" Xavier added, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

I burst out laughing.

Nix closed his eyes.

"I'm going to kill them both."

"Get in line."

He opened one eye.

"Enjoying yourself?"

I considered pretending otherwise.

For approximately half a second.

"Damn right I am."

He laughed.

Then pushed himself to his feet and offered me his hand.

I took it.

He pulled me upright.

A little too enthusiastically.

I stumbled against him, and his hand settled at my waist to steady me.

Oh, Goddess.

Not again.

His smile softened.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then I stepped back.

Not far.

Just enough to remember that we were standing in front of half the pack.

My wolf was deeply unimpressed.

Mate.

“Later.”

Promise?

I glanced at Nix.

At the dirt on his face.

The ridiculous grin.

The warmth in those green eyes.

And for the first time since I'd come home, the thought of later didn't make my chest hurt quite so much.

We'll see, sweetheart.

She huffed.

Apparently, that wasn't a satisfactory answer.

I smiled anyway.