The horns did not sound again.
That was what unsettled Talia most.
She stood beside the window long after Luka had gone still, watching the dark treeline beyond the estate. Snow dusted the branches like ash, untouched, pristine...too quiet for something that had crossed a boundary meant to keep monsters out.
"What was it?" she asked finally.
Luka didn't answer right away.
He stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, shoulders tense beneath his shirt. The Alpha mask was fully in place now...controlled, unreadable, dangerous. When he did turn to her, his eyes were darker than before, gold dimmed to something molten beneath the surface.
"Not prey," he said. "Not a scout."
Her stomach twisted. "Then what?"
"A reminder," he replied.
That did not help.
He moved toward her then, slow and deliberate, as if every step was calculated not to frighten her. She hated that it worked. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up...pulse quickening, skin tightening with awareness.
"Tonight," Luka said quietly, "you don't leave this wing."
"I haven't been leaving much," she said, attempting lightness.
"This is not a suggestion."
There it was.
Not anger. Not force.
Authority.
Her breath caught, heat blooming low in her belly in a way that had nothing to do with fear. Luka noticed. Of course he did. His gaze dropped briefly...just long enough to make her feel seen in ways that left her exposed.
"You feel it too," he said.
"The tension?" she asked.
"The claim," he corrected.
Her heart slammed. "Luka..."
He reached out, fingers brushing her wrist, then sliding down to lace with hers. The contact grounded her, even as it unraveled her.
"I won't take what you don't give," he said. "But tonight, I need you close. Obedient. Safe."
The word obedient sent a shiver through her.
She swallowed. "And what do I get?"
His mouth curved slightly. "Protected."
That should have been enough.
It wasn't.
Dinner was quiet.
Too quiet.
The long table felt like a battlefield dressed in silverware and candlelight. Wolves filled the seats...Betas, council members, elders...all carefully composed. Conversations were low, controlled, stopping entirely whenever Luka shifted in his chair.
Talia sat at his right, acutely aware of every movement she made.
Every breath.
She could feel their attention like pressure against her skin.
"She handles herself well," one of the elders said at last, voice smooth. "For a human."
Talia stiffened.
Luka didn't look at the man as he replied. "She handles herself well. Full stop."
A few heads inclined. Others didn't.
"And yet," another voice chimed in, female this time, "she doesn't understand our customs. Our laws."
Talia opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Luka's hand found her thigh beneath the table.
Warm. Heavy. Possessive.
"She will learn," he said.
"How?" the woman pressed. "Observation alone won't prepare her for what's coming."
The room seemed to lean in.
Luka's thumb pressed lightly into Talia's skin, a silent command.
Stay still.
"She doesn't need to be prepared for everything," Luka said calmly. "She needs to survive."
"And will she?" the elder asked.
Luka finally looked at him.
"Yes."
The certainty in that single word shut down the conversation.
But it didn't erase the doubt in the room.
Later, when they were alone again, the silence followed them.
Talia paced near the fireplace while Luka poured himself a drink he didn't touch.
"They don't trust me," she said.
"No."
"They think I'm weak."
"They think you're disruptive."
She stopped. "That's worse."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "It is."
She turned to face him fully. "Do you regret bringing me here?"
The question hung between them, fragile and dangerous.
Luka set the glass down slowly. "No."
"You didn't even think about it."
"I did," he said. "And I chose you anyway."
Her chest tightened.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, the restrained power coiled just beneath his skin.
"Tonight," he said again, softer now, "you're not a Luna. You're not a symbol. You're not a problem for them to solve."
Her voice barely worked. "Then what am I?"
His gaze dropped to her lips.
"My little bunny."
The words wrapped around her like a slow burn.
Her knees felt unsteady. "You say that like it means something different now."
"It does," he said. "Tonight, it means you stay with me. You listen. You trust."
"And if I don't?" she whispered.
His hand lifted, fingers tilting her chin up until she had no choice but to meet his eyes. "Then I'll still protect you," he said. "But you'll feel the difference."
Her breath hitched.
"I don't want to feel the difference," she admitted.
"Good," he murmured. "Then come here."
She did.
Not because he ordered her to.
Because she wanted to.
He drew her into him, not crushing, not claiming...just holding her close enough that her ear rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, powerful, grounding.
"You smell like fear," he said quietly.
She laughed weakly. "I am afraid."
"And something else," he added, voice lower now. "Something you don't want to name."
Her fingers curled into his shirt.
"Luka…"
His breath warmed her hair. "Tonight, be my little bunny," he said. "Let me decide where you hide."
Her body answered before her mind could object.
"Yes," she breathed.
Outside, the wind shifted.
Far beyond the estate, something howled...not a wolf, not a warning.
A promise.
Luka's hold tightened imperceptibly.
And for the first time since Christmas, Talia wondered if choosing safety meant stepping deeper into danger.