The journey across the border was a blur of motion and was filled with warmth from Kaelin's body. Kaelen had not forced Nila onto a horse; instead, he had lifted her directly into the saddle ahead of him, his massive arm locking around her waist like a band of iron. For three hours, she had ridden pinned against his chest, swaddled so deeply in his wolf-skin cloak that the biting night air never touched her skin. She had kept her eyes clamped shut, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs, waiting for the illusion to shatter. She waited for him to grow tired of her, to realize she was a broken thing, to throw her into the ditch.
But he never did. His grip remained steady, and his chest stayed a warm, and pressed like a wall against her back until the horses finally slowed to a walk.
"Open your eyes, little wolf," Kaelen’s voice rumbled against her shoulder, the vibration sending a strange shiver down her spine.
Nila blinked, her eyelids heavy.
They had passed through a massive stone archway cutting into the side of a pine-covered mountain. Ahead of them lay the heart of the Up Pack territory. Nila’s breath caught in her throat. Down Pack territory was a place of gray stone, damp wood, and claustrophobic valleys. This place was sprawling and bright. Huge timber lodges with glowing glass windows were scattered across a vast, green plateau. Torches lined wide, clean paths, and the air smelled of sweet pine, roasting cedarwood, and clean mountain rain unlike the old blood and burning soot that always lingered in Down pack.
As the riders approached the central lodge, doors flew open. Wolves poured out into the night, their faces filled with anxiety, their postures tense. News traveled fast through the mind-link; they already knew their Alpha had nearly started a war across the border.
Kaelen brought his stallion to a halt in front of the main steps. Before the pack could crowd them, he dismounted in one fluid, silent motion. He turned back to Nila, reaching up to take her weight. Nila flinched instinctively, pulling her arms tight against her chest, her eyes darting to the gathering crowd.
Kaelen’s jaw tightened at her reaction, but his movements remained deliberate. He reached into the saddle, his hands slipping beneath the heavy fur cloak to cradle her back and thighs. He lifted her easily, as if she weighed nothing at all, holding her high against his chest so her bare, dirt-caked feet wouldn't touch the cold stone steps.
"Alpha!" A tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar cutting through his left eyebrow rushed down the steps. It was Kaelen’s Beta, Marcus. He stopped short, his eyes dropping to the bundle in Kaelen’s arms. "The link said you took a prisoner from the Down Pack. Is this—"
"She is not a prisoner," Kaelen barked, his voice ringing through the courtyard, instantly silencing the murmurs of the crowd. His golden eyes swept over his people, his Alpha aura settling over them like a heavy, protective shield. "This is Nila. She is your Luna. Anyone who treats her with less reverence will answer to my wolf personally."
A collective gasp rippled through the courtyard. Marcus stared at Nila, his jaw dropping slightly. He looked at her tangled hair, the smudge of black soot still staining her pale cheekbone, and the oversized cloak engulfing her small frame. For a second, Nila saw the familiar flash of judgment she expected. The realization that she was small, weak, and pathetic. She tucked her chin into the fur collar, trying to hide.
But Marcus didn't sneer nor spit. Instead, his expression shifted. He stepped back, inclining his head in a deep, respectful bow. "Welcome home, Luna."
Behind him, the warriors and pack members followed suit, a wave of bowing bodies clearing a path to the heavy timber doors of the main lodge.
Nila gripped the front of Kaelen’s shirt, her fingers tangling in the thick fabric. Their respect felt like a physical pressure, suffocating her. 'They don't know what I am,' she thought, a cold spike of panic piercing her chest. 'They think I'm a queen. When they find out I killed my mother, they will hate me. They will throw me out.'
Kaelen carried her through the doors, ignoring the bowing crowd. The interior of the lodge was immense. Thick woolen rugs covered the polished wood floors, and a massive stone hearth dominated the center of the great room, throwing off a deep, crackling heat.
An older woman with silvering hair and kind, lined eyes hurried toward them, wiping her hands on a clean linen towel. Nila braced herself, expecting the harsh voice of a Head Omega like Martha.
"Oh, the poor lamb," the woman whispered, her voice cracking with instant, maternal sorrow. Her eyes were fixed on the dark bruise peeking out from Nila’s collar. "Kaelen, put her down by the fire. She’s shivering, look at her."
"I am taking her to the Alpha quarters, Vera," Kaelen said, his pace never slowing as he moved toward a wide, winding staircase. "Bring clean water, bandages, and a hot meal. Now."
"Right away," Vera said, already turning toward the kitchens.
Kaelen carried Nila up the stairs and down a long, quiet hallway lined with heavy oak doors. He pushed open the double doors at the very end of the hall, stepping into a massive, sun-drenched suite that smelled entirely of him. A massive bed sat against the far wall, piled high with heavy blankets and soft furs.
He walked to the edge of the mattress and gently lowered her onto it.
The moment her feet touched the soft, plush surface, Nila scrambled backward. She didn't mean to do it, but the instinct to find a corner, to put a wall to her back, was too deeply ingrained. She dragged Kaelen’s massive cloak with her, pulling her knees to her chest and pressing herself against the heavy wooden headboard, her eyes wide and wild as she stared at him.
Kaelen stayed where he was, standing at the edge of the bed. He slowly unbuckled his leather gauntlets, dropping them onto a nearby chair, keeping his movements open and visible.
"You are safe here, Nila," he said softly, his golden eyes locked onto hers with a fierce, unwavering intensity. "No one is going to hurt you. No one is going to demand anything from you."
Nila swallowed hard, her voice trembling so violently her teeth clicked together. "Why... why did you bring me here?"
"Because you are my mate," Kaelen said, as if it were the simplest truth in the world. "Because your place is by my side. Not in the dirt of a pack that doesn't deserve your shadow."
"I am a murderer," she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them. The lie her father had drilled into her brain for twenty years bled through her lips. "My father said... I tore my mother apart. I took her life. I am a curse."
Kaelen’s face hardened into rage. But the anger wasn't directed at her. A low growl vibrated in his chest, making the floorboards beneath the bed tremble. He took a single, half-step forward, his fists clenching at his sides.
"Your father is a liar," Kaelen said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, deadly whisper. "I smelled the rot on him the moment I entered his hall. You are no curse, Nila. You are the rightful blood of that pack, and he has broken you to keep you from realizing it."
Before Nila could process his words, a soft knock rattled the door. Vera entered, carrying a heavy silver tray laden with a steaming bowl of thick stew, fresh bread, and a basin of warm water with clean cloths.
The scent of the food hit Nila’s nose, and her stomach gave a loud, violent twist. She hadn't eaten since the previous morning, and the richness of the meat made her mouth water, but she didn't move. In the Down Pack, eating before the warriors were finished meant a lashing.
Vera set the tray on a low table near the bed, her eyes softening as she looked at Nila’s defensive, curled-up posture. "Leave us for a moment, Kaelen," the older woman said, her voice gentle but firm. "You're looming like a thunderstorm. Go talk to Marcus. Let me look after her."
Kaelen looked at Nila, his eyes tracking the way she held her breath, watching him like he was a predator waiting to strike. A flash of profound sorrow crossed his sharp features, a temporary crack in his Alpha mask.
"I will be downstairs," Kaelen told Nila softly. "Eat. Wash. Then sleep. This room is yours. No one enters without your permission."
He turned and walked out, closing the heavy oak doors behind him with a soft, careful click.
Nila stared at the closed door, the silence of the room suddenly rushing in to fill the space. The heat from the hearth fire was wrapping around her, the smell of the rich food was filling her senses, and the soft furs beneath her were cleaner than anything she had ever touched.
But as she looked at the silver tray, a deep, hollow panic settled in her gut. The light of this place was too bright. It made her scars feel too visible, her brokenness too obvious. She reached up, her trembling fingers touching the dark bruise on her shoulder, staring at the door as if the monster from her past was already waiting on the other side to drag her back into the dark.