Lena's question hung in the air like a blade, What are you? Kael felt it cut deeper than any claw. They stood in the dim stairwell of her wrecked apartment building, Crestwood's night pressing against the cracked windows.
Her hazel eyes burned into him, wide with fear but sharp with demand, blood still staining her shoulder from the attack. His wolf howled, urging him to pull her close, to protect, to claim, but he stayed rooted, every muscle taut.
She'd seen him shift, seen him kill. There was no dodging this now.
"Lena," he started, voice rough, "we need to move. More could come."
She crossed her arms, wincing at her wound but standing her ground. "No. You don't get to dodge this. That thing upstairs, you turning into... whatever that was. Tell me what's going on Kael, or I'm not moving an inch."
He cursed under his breath. Stubborn as hell—she'd always been, even in the café, calling him out with that spark he couldn't resist. But this wasn't a flirty game. Her life was on the line, and his pack was circling, ready to rip them both apart. He glanced up the stairs, half-expecting another shadow to lunge, then back at her. Those eyes, damn them, pulled him in, mate bond or not.
"Fine," he said, stepping closer, his boots scuffing the concrete. "But you won't like it."
"Try me." Her voice shook, but her chin lifted, defiant.
He exhaled, running a hand through his black hair. Where to start? The pack, the laws, the bond tying them? His wolf growled, impatient, but he shoved it down. "I'm a werewolf," he said bluntly. "Born, not bitten. My people—my pack, live hidden, away from humans. That thing upstairs? A rogue, one of us gone feral.
It wanted you, and I don't know why yet."
Her lips parted, a sharp breath escaping.
"Werewolf." She said it like a test, like saying it louder might make it less insane. "You're saying... you're a werewolf."
"Yeah." He held her gaze, letting her see the truth in his eyes, gold-flecked, still half-wild from the fight. "And it's not just me. There's a whole world you don't know, Lena. Packs, territories, laws. I lead mine. The Silverfangs."
She laughed, a short, brittle sound, backing up until her shoulder hit the wall. "This is crazy.
Werewolves aren't real. You're messing with me, or I'm hallucinating. Maybe that thing drugged me."
"You saw me shift," he said, voice low but firm.
"You felt it, us—when we touched in the café.
That wasn't nothing."
Her hand flew to her chest, like she could still feel the spark. Her cheeks flushed, but her eyes hardened. "Don't. That was... I don't know what that was, but it's not this. I'm human, Kael. Normal. I make coffee, I pay rent, I don't belong in your fairy-tale monster world."
He stepped closer, too close, his scent—pine, leather, wild-flooding her senses. His wolf clawed at him, hating her denial, needing her to understand. "You're not just anything, Lena.
You're my mate." The word slipped out, raw, heavy, and he saw her flinch. "It's not a choice. It's fate. My wolf knows you, has since I first saw you. That spark? It's real. It's us."
"Mate?" She spat the word, her voice rising.
"Like what, your soulmate? Your girlfriend? I'm not your anything. I didn't sign up for this!" Her hands shook, but she didn't back down, her glare cutting through him. "You don't get to walk into my life, turn it upside down, and claim me like l'm property."
Her words stung, sharper than she knew.
Kael's wolf snarled, torn between pain and pride, she was fighting him, just like she'd fought that rogue, fearless even now. But she didn't get it. The bond wasn't ownership; it was deeper, a tie that burned in his bones. He wanted to tell her—how her scent drove him wild, how he'd defied his council, risked his title, all for her. But her fear, her anger, stopped him cold.
"It's not like that," he said, softer, fighting to keep his voice steady. "A mate's... everything.
Partner, equal. My pack's got rules,stupid ones—against humans, but I don't care. You're mine, Lena, and I'm yours, whether you want it or not."
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "Yours?" She stepped forward, jabbing a finger at his chest. "I'm mine, Kael. Not yours, not fate's, not some wolfy destiny's. You saved me, and I'm grateful, but this? No. I'm out."
She turned, starting down the stairs, her sneakers loud in the quiet. Kael's heart twisted, his wolf howling to chase her, to make her see.
But forcing her would break something he couldn't fix. He followed at a distance, keeping her in sight, his senses sharp for any threat.
The rogue's attack wasn't random, those yellow eyes, that speed. Someone wanted her, and until he knew why, he wasn't letting her out of his reach.
They hit the street, Crestwood's lights casting long shadows. Lena hugged her arms, her breath fogging in the cold, but she didn't look back. Kael stayed back, his wolf tracking her every move, her quick steps, the faint tremble in her hands. He'd told her the truth, and she'd thrown it back. Fine. She could deny it, but the bond didn't lie. Neither did the danger.
He stopped at an alley's mouth, watching her cross the street. She was safe for now, but his gut churned. The council's ultimatum echoed, reject her or lose everything, and her rejection didn't make it easier. His pack was fracturing, Torin's report spreading poison, and the Thornclaws were out there, waiting. He needed answers, about her, about the rogues, about the howl that wasn't his.
A rustle broke his thoughts. Kael tensed, nostrils flaring. A scent familiar, Silverfang—hit him, sharp and close. Not Rhea. Not Torin.
In the shadows, crouched behind a dumpster, a pack scout named Vren watched it all. His lean frame blended with the dark, his gray eyes glinting as Lena stormed away and Kael lingered. Vren's ears caught every word — werewolf, mate, fate. His lips curled, not in joy but calculation. Torin had sent him to trail Kael, to dig up dirt, and he'd hit gold.
Vren slipped deeper into the alley, his phone already out. The message was short, sent to Torin's private line: Alpha called human his mate. She rejected him. Trouble brewing. He hit send, the screen's glow catching his smirk.
The pack wouldn't stay quiet now.