The Alpha Who Burned My Pack Is the Love of My Life

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

Fallon studied me for another second, then stepped back.

"Be ready at dawn."

"For what?"

"We ride."

The next morning, frost silvered the forest floor.

I had expected a ceremonial hunt designed to display Obsidian strength. Instead, Fallon brought me to the northern boundary where winter traps were being reset and old battle markers removed.

"Why am I here?" I asked as we rode.

"Because the treaty gives Crescent access to this road next month. If you are going to accuse us of moving patrols across the line, you should know where the line actually is."

"How generous. A guided tour of stolen land."

"Half this ridge belonged to neither pack before your grandfather moved the stones."

"And I am sure Obsidian's version of the map says that."

"There are three versions. I have read all of them."

That surprised me enough to end the argument for several breaths.

Fallon rode a black stallion beside my gray mare while six Obsidian guards spread through the trees around us.

"Shorten your reins," he said.

"I know how to ride."

"You ride like someone who expects the forest to apologize before it attacks."

"Your father already tried that approach."

His mouth twitched.

Before I could decide whether it was almost a smile, a whistle cut through the trees.

"Down!"

Fallon launched from his saddle.

His body hit mine and knocked us both from the mare.

We crashed through thorn brush and rolled down a short slope.

A crossbow bolt buried itself in the tree where my chest had been.

Green liquid smoked along the metal tip.

Wolfsbane.

A gunshot cracked above us.

Fallon jerked.

Blood spread across his left shoulder.

"Fallon?"

He rolled off me, drew a pistol with his good hand, and fired twice into the canopy.

A man fell from a branch and hit the ground hard.

Two more shots answered from deeper in the trees. Our escort scattered for cover. Fallon shoved me behind a fallen trunk before he returned fire. The attack was disciplined: one shooter kept the guards pinned while another moved to cut off the trail back to the fortress. These were not desperate refugees. Someone had trained them.

"West ravine," Fallon barked to his captain. "Do not chase past the marker. It is a funnel."

Even bleeding, he recognized the terrain faster than any of them.

"Move," Fallon ordered.

"You're shot."

"I noticed."

He kicked the dead attacker's arm aside.

A black serpent had been tattooed around the man's wrist.

"Serpent rebels," Fallon said.

His face had already gone pale.

The bullet was silver.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me deeper into the woods as another bolt struck the dirt behind us.

We ran until the guards' shouts disappeared.

A narrow crack in a limestone ridge opened into a shallow cave.

Fallon made it three steps inside before collapsing against the wall.

His breathing turned ragged.

I used the small knife from my boot to cut away his jacket. The bullet had passed through the outer shoulder but left a silver burn around the wound. Blackened veins were already spreading under the skin.

"That looks bad."

"Your medical training is astonishing."

"I could make it worse if you prefer."

"There is the woman I remember."

I froze.

Fallon's eyes opened.

"What did you say?"

He looked away. "Nothing."

The lie sat between us.

"The bullet needs to come out."

"No. Silver fragments. Digging blind will make it worse."

"Then what?"

"Pressure. Time. My wolf will push it toward the surface if the dose doesn't stop my heart first."

He said it as if discussing weather.

I tore a strip from the hem of my dress.

"Don't touch the blood," he warned. "There is wolfsbane on the entry wound too."

"You could have mentioned that before smearing it across my sleeve."

I folded the cloth and pressed it against his shoulder.

He hissed.

"Why did you jump in front of me?"

"You are my fiancée."

"I am your prisoner's daughter."

"Same treaty."

"That is a terrible answer."

"It is the one you keep asking for."

His eyes closed.

I tightened the bandage.

The cave grew quiet except for dripping water and his uneven breathing.

I could leave.

Selene might still have allies in the forest. The border was somewhere west. A wounded Fallon could not stop me.

I stood.

At the cave mouth, I could see only trees and pale rock. Freedom might have been a mile away or twenty. The rebels who had tried to kill me might belong to Crescent splinter groups, to the Serpent clan, or to Kael himself if the attack was meant to test Fallon's loyalty. I hated that every path required trusting someone who had already lied.

His hand caught my wrist.

The grip was weak.

"Don't."

I looked down at him.

His eyes had shifted from silver to the bright gold of his wolf.

"Don't what?"

"Leave the cave alone. There are at least three more outside. I can smell them when the wind changes."

That was more sensible than the plea I had expected.

I sat again.

"You thought I was running."

"You were."

"I was considering it."

A rough laugh escaped him.

"At least you are honest when I am half dead."

"Do not flatter yourself."

He leaned his head against the stone.

"Seven days until the wedding."

"If you survive."

"I intend to."

"Disappointing."

His thumb moved once against my wrist, directly over my pulse.

The scar at my throat warmed in answer.

Fallon's gaze sharpened despite the pain.

"You feel it."

I pulled free.

"I feel nothing for you."

"That is not what I said."

Before I could answer, a howl sounded far outside the cave.

Then another.

Obsidian tracking hounds.

Fallon tried to rise and nearly collapsed. I caught his good arm before I could think better of it. His weight settled against me for one unguarded second.

"If you tell anyone I helped you stand, I will deny it."

"Naturally. It would ruin your reputation."

Fallon exhaled. "My father's men found us."

I looked at the bandage darkening over his shoulder.

For reasons I did not understand, relief came first.