The night settled heavily over Silverfang stronghold.
Mira felt it in the stone beneath her feet, in the way the torches burned lower than usual, in the uneasy silence that pressed against her ears. The rejection sickness had not worsened since the healer's chamber, but it lingered—sharp, watchful, like a predator waiting for her to stumble.
Her heart skipped at random. Her breath sometimes caught for no reason at all.
And every time it happened, the bond reacted.
She felt Ryker then. Always Ryker.
Not his thoughts, not his voice but his presence. A steady pressure at the edge of her awareness, like a hand hovering inches from her skin without touching.
It made her angry.
It made her afraid.
A guard escorted her through the upper corridor without speaking. The Alpha's wing was quiet at this hour. Most of the pack had been dismissed after the council meeting, but Mira knew the decision had not been delayed.
They were waiting for Ryker to act.
The guard stopped at a tall oak door carved with old runes.
"He's inside," the guard said, then hesitated. "Alpha ordered that you be allowed to leave at any time."
Mira nodded once.
The door opened without a sound.
Ryker stood near the wide window that overlooked the valley. He had removed his armor and jacket, leaving only a dark shirt rolled at the sleeves. His sword leaned against the wall, close enough to reach.
He turned when she entered.
The bond stirred sharply in recognition, tension, and restraint.
"Mira," he said.
She closed the door behind her. "They told me you called for me."
"I did."
She crossed the room slowly, stopping several steps away from him. "Have you decided how you'll kill me?"
Ryker's jaw tightened. "I would never..."
"Your council will," she interrupted. "If you don't claim me."
Silence stretched between them.
Ryker looked tired. Not wounded, not angry—just worn down in a way that reached deeper than bone.
"They want me to force the bond," he said finally.
Mira laughed softly. "Of course they do."
"They say it's the fastest solution," he continued. "A public claiming. Marks. Ceremony. Submission."
Her wolf snarled, pressing hard against her ribs.
"And you?" Mira asked.
Ryker met her eyes. "I said no."
The bond pulsed once—sharp with surprise.
Mira blinked. "No?"
"I will not force you," he said, voice steady. "Not now. Not ever."
She stared at him, searching for the trick, the hidden edge.
"You'd let your pack turn on you?" she asked. "Risk your position?"
"Yes."
Her breath caught. "Why?"
Ryker looked away, out toward the dark valley. "Because if I win you that way, I lose everything else."
The words landed harder than she expected.
"You could order it," she said. "They'd obey."
"They would," he agreed. "And I would hate myself for the rest of my life."
The bond sounded quietly, approving, and dangerous.
Mira shook her head. "You think this makes you noble?"
"No," Ryker said softly. "I think it makes me human."
She swallowed. "Then what happens now?"
Ryker turned back to her. "Now we buy time."
"How?"
"I invoke the Alpha's Delay," he said. "It's rarely used. Dangerous. But it gives us days. Maybe a week."
"And then?"
"And then," he said grimly, "the council will try again."
Mira's chest tightened. "You're postponing the inevitable."
"I'm refusing to make your choice for you."
She looked down at her hands. They were shaking.
"You don't understand," she said quietly. "If I accept you, my father will kill me."
Ryker nodded. "I know."
"If I reject you, we both die, and I have said it before."
"Yes."
"And if you force me," she continued, "I will never forgive you."
He stepped closer, careful, giving her space. "I don't want your forgiveness. I want your consent."
Her eyes burned.
"No one has ever given me that," she whispered.
The bond pulled—gentle, aching.
Ryker reached out, then stopped himself, his hand hovering in the air between them. "May I?"
She hesitated, then nodded once.
His fingers closed around her wrist not the iron chain, but skin. Warm. Steady.
The bond surged but not violently.
It settled.
Mira gasped softly.
For the first time since the bond formed, it didn't hurt.
It didn't burn or claw or twist.
It simply… existed.
Ryker felt it too. His breath caught, eyes darkening with something close to awe.
"This," he said quietly, "is what they want me to take from you."
Mira pulled her hand back, heart racing. "Don't make me trust you."
"I won't," he said. "I'll earn it. Or I won't."
A sharp knock sounded at the door.
Both of them stiffened.
"Alpha," an elder's voice called. "The council demands an answer."
Ryker straightened, Alpha presence snapping back into place. "You'll have one at dawn."
"That is unacceptable," the elder snapped. "The pack grows restless."
"Then they can grow patient," Ryker replied coldly. "Or they can challenge me."
Silence followed.
Footsteps retreated.
Mira exhaled shakily. "You're making enemies."
"I already had them," Ryker said. "Now they're just showing their teeth."
He turned back to her. "You should rest."
"I don't sleep," she said. "Not anymore."
"Then stay," he said without thinking.
They both froze.
"Here?" she asked.
"In the outer chamber," he clarified quickly. "Guarded. Safe."
She studied his face. "You're afraid to leave me alone."
"Yes," he admitted. "Because someone already tried to twist the bond."
Her wolf growled low.
"Fine," she said. "But don't think this means..."
"I don't," he said. "It means you're alive."
He opened the door to the adjoining room, smaller and warmer, with a low fire already lit.
Mira stepped inside.
As the door closed behind her, the bond tightened suddenly—sharp, warning.
Ryker felt it too.
He spun toward the hall just as a scream echoed through the stronghold. Not fear but pain.
A guard came running, blood on his mouth. "Alpha—Elder Thorne—he's dead."
Ryker went still.
"How?" he demanded.
The guard swallowed. "The bond chamber. Runes burned into his chest."
Mira felt the floor sway beneath her feet.
Ryker's voice dropped to a whisper. "Someone is clearing the board."
The bond flared—hot, urgent. And far below the stronghold, ancient magic stirred again angry that the Alpha had refused to obey.