Chapter 10

The next morning the room reeked of whiskey. They had tried to drink themselves unconscious. It didn't work. The face of the woman they were mourning kept coming back to them, and it hurt.

The first light of morning came through the window. Julian dragged himself upright and reached for his phone. Their father had died years ago. Elara's only living family besides him was their mother, half a world away in Redwood Territory.

When Nora died, he had kept it from their mother. This time there was no keeping it from her. Even if she hated him. Even if she cursed him for it. He deserved it.

The line rang a few times. She picked up. She was at an Infirmary. Her eyes on the screen were ice. "What is it?"

"Mom. Elara—" He caught a shape behind her. His eyes went wide.

She seemed to realize it. She shut the camera off fast. "I'm visiting a friend. Can't do video. What is it?"

"Nothing." He pressed it down. He kept his voice even. "Just checking on your health."

"My health is fine. Hanging up." The call ended.

He sat with his phone in his hand for a long time. He started laughing. Quiet and manic. "Damon. Elara is alive. Elara is alive."

Half a world away. Celeste Ashford hung up. She held back the urge to curse her son across the ocean. Her eyes went from furious to tender on the figure in the Infirmary bed. "Elara. The Healer says you can be discharged in two days. How do you feel?"

Elara propped herself up. She smiled, thin and tired. "I'm better. Thank you. Mom."

"Don't thank me, you silly thing." Celeste scolded softly, stroking her hair. The softness turned to rage. "Julian has lost his mind. Helping an outsider against you."

"And that Sterling boy. I thought he was decent. I didn't think he was capable of any of this."

"Poor Elara. Poor Nora."

At Nora's name, something dimmed in Elara's eyes. Celeste caught it and gathered her close. She made her voice bright. "A Mate. Who cares. There are Alphas lining up from here to the border. I'll introduce you to ten. Twenty."

Even knowing her mother meant well, Elara was alarmed. When her father cheated, Celeste had Severed the Bond without hesitation and left for Redwood Territory. Her father had regretted it the rest of his life. He never Bonded again. Celeste, on the other hand, had reached Redwood Territory and found spring, then another spring, and another. At the moment she was with a Beta-level wolf a good fifteen years younger.

Julian disapproved. Celeste always laughed him off. "You male wolves can hold three Mates and nobody blinks. I take my boyfriends one at a time and Sever cleanly each time. I'm a saint."

Elara admired her mother's steel heart, but she had no interest in being swarmed by pretty younger wolves. She tried politely. "I'm still not well enough. Maybe not yet—"

"The Healer says you're fine. Day after tomorrow. I've found you one. Six foot one. Absolutely go see him."

The next morning Celeste pushed me into a streetside café on the Redwood waterfront and told me to wait for my date. "Six-foot-one, top bloodline, Wyndham Territory. Don't be rude."

I sat by the window with my hands folded. I hadn't said yes. I hadn't said no. My mother took no for an answer about as well as a storm takes a fence.

A tall Alpha walked in. Ash-blond hair, cropped short. Green eyes. He was close enough to six-foot-three to make me sit up straighter. He scanned the room, saw me, and came over with a polite smile. "May I?"

"Please."

"I'm Ryder."

"Elara."

We shook. His hand was warm and steady. I remembered my manners and asked him about himself. He answered in fluent, slightly accented Pack-tongue — books, old records, stone architecture, a grandfather who had raised him on stories. He was funny without trying. He watched me the way a careful Alpha watches a wounded pup — attentive, unhurried, ready to give space.

"You frown when you're not talking," he said at one point. "You're much prettier when you laugh. Try it sometimes."

I laughed despite myself. He smiled like he had won a small prize.

We traded Mind-Link tags. He said he hoped I'd contact him. Before I could answer, three young Alphas in dark suits rushed up to the window. "Sir — sir, there you are. Professor Joss has been waiting at the Council Hall for twenty minutes —"

Ryder raised an eyebrow. He had the grace to look mildly embarrassed. "Forgive me, Elara. Duty." He stood, inclined his head, and followed them out.

My phone rang. Celeste. "Darling, the six-foot-one boy tripped coming down the stairs of his manor and broke his ankle. He sends his apologies. We'll reschedule."

I stared at the window Ryder had just walked past. "Mother. The Alpha I just had coffee with was not your matchmade."

"Oh?"

"I sat with a stranger for three hours."

"Hm." A thoughtful pause. "Was he pretty?"

"Mother."

"Send me a picture, darling. This is much more interesting."

Ryder messaged that night asking me to lunch the next day. I said yes because I owed him an apology. I told Celeste I'd only met a very tall stranger. She cackled.

At the restaurant he looked even better in a grey suit than he had in jeans. I sat down and tried to explain my error. He just smiled over the menu. "I figured it out ten minutes in, Elara. I came anyway."

"You — what —"