The Great Dining Hall buzzed with the clamor of dishes and voices until Rowan Thalric raised a hand and the conversation softened, a ripple of respect for the Alpha.

He sat at the head of the table, black hair streaked with grey at the temples, the years only sharpening his edges instead of dulling them. A strong man of about six foot one.

Picking at his hot cinnamon buns.

Beside him, Zoran studied the platter of roasted meat set before him. Grapes and a jug of wine were also arranged neatly at his place. He picked up the goblet, swirled it lightly, and then looked up at his brother.

"This..." he tapped the rim, "is it alcoholic?"

Rowan chuckled. "No, brother. It is not."

Zoran took a brief sip and then inclined his head.

It packed a fruity punch.

The Alpha leaned back in his chair. "So. Tell me. Have you rethought your decision about the Beta seat? The Pack still waits. You would serve well, you know."

Zoran set the goblet down carefully.

"Unfortunately not. The Beta's role demands mateship, perhaps children down the line. But a primordial cannot take that path. If I ever found a mate..." He left that part hanging. "It's better to remain in council."

The silence that followed was brief, but not uncomfortable.

Rowan's attention then shifted to the boy on his left.

"Silas."

His son froze mid-bite. "Yes, father?"

Rowan chewed, swallowed, then said casually, "That reminds me. Zoran mentioned last night that he saw Naelis. Out in the storm, alone. Trying to leave?"

Silas's fork clattered against his plate.

"Uh-yes. Well. We are not... together anymore, stuff happened."

Rowan's hand stilled. The fork in his grip paused mid-air. His head turned to his son, brows knitting in confusion.

"Not together?"

Silas cleared his throat, fidgeting under his father's stare. "Naelis thought it was better if we ... .stayed best friends. Platonic, that's her word for it."

Rowan leaned back, the faintest sigh escaping him. "Huh. She's wild, that girl. Spirited too. I thought the two of you made a fine match."

"Apparently, we're better off platonic." Silas muttered, stabbing his venison.

Rowan shook his head, then raised a brow.

"And where is she, then? Why isn't she at breakfast?"

Silas hesitated. Turning off his ringing mobile.

"She, uh... went to the woods."

"To....?"

"To hunt."

Rowan frowned. "To hunt? At this hour?"

The answer came before Silas could form one. The great iron doors at the end of the hall banged open. Heads turned to the figure coming in and gasps rose.

Naelis strode in, her dress torn at the hem and hands slick with blood. She dragged a full-grown boar across the stone floor until she heaved it forward and dropped it with a meaty thunk.

The carcass sprawled in the middle of the dining hall, blood coating the polished tiles, the scent of fresh kill cutting through the aroma of roasted delicacies.

Naelis straightened, her dark eyes bright with feral triumph.

"I hoped someone saved me a seat."

The hall fell silent, even the cooks froze in the archways.

Rowan's fork slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground. The chunks of bread in his mouth, spilling over his parted lips and falling onto his plate.

Zoran alone did not flinch, his gaze met Naelis's and deterred the dead boar. Others may have assumed it was just a simple hunt. But he saw the thin pendant around the boar's hoof. And he understood the gesture.

"A little birdie told me that this would be a good gift for your brother, Alpha Rowan."

She plopped into the seat and grabbed a chicken thigh. She wanted to put it in her mouth when Silas pulled out a water gun from his pocket and squeezed jets onto her face.

"You look like a bloody Mary."

"Silas!" Rowan tried to hold back his chuckle.

Naelis narrowed her eyes when the stream of water stopped hitting her. She wiped her face.

"I might gut your son in his sleep, and I'll do it with one hand."

Zoran dropped his grapes, plopping the last one into his mouth and washing his hands in the porcelain basin beside him.

"Good morning, Naelis... Haldrith." He said simply, a soft smile on his face.

All traces of irritation melted from Naelis's face as she turned to Zoran.

The turquoise shirt. The laces at his cuffs. The navy joggers that seemed almost careless, and yet the man carried them with an elegance that made the hall itself lean in to listen.

Her lips curved.

"Zoran," she said, greeting him by name, "would you... like to taste it? The chef could immediately prepare the boar for you, served however you please."

He shook his head gently, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

"I don't eat boar."

Naelis blinked, her eyes darting to the carcass she had dragged in triumph. The hunt that had left her bruised, scraped, blood-soaked.

"You... don't eat boar?" she repeated, voice thin.

Zoran's gaze dropped to the beast's snout, streaked with a purplish line. He did not say more than that.

Her eyes followed his, finally remembering the tales.

Boars with purple-streaked snouts were one of the things regarded as sacred by the citadel men.

Fuck.

She pressed her palm hard against her brow and let out a frustrated groan. "Crap."

She pushed back her chair, muttering, "Fine. I'll go hunt you a deer instead. Something.... proper. The cooks can-"

But Rowan cut her off,

"Naelis. I've never seen you hunt for anyone."

Naelis exhaled, her eyes fixed stubbornly on Zoran.

"I just... wanted to align myself with him. I know the rest of this family. Even your dead relatives. But your brother is the only one I don't know. And I thought.... a gift would bridge that."

Rowan leaned forward as though he had something more to say, only to be cut off by his own delighted groan.

The chef had returned, bearing a tray of fig, sour lemon, and curd. Rowan's favorite. His eyes lit up like a boy's, the Alpha's composure dissolving into simple, greedy joy.

Silas stared in disbelief, lips twitching. How easily his father could be conquered by food.

"Honestly," Silas muttered, pushing back his chair, "you reek of blood, Nae. Go wash before the stench kills my appetite any further."

Naelis screwed up her face and jutted her tongue at him.

"Uh...fine."

But just before she grabbed the chicken thigh, she reached into her pocket, drew a small, folded paper and slid it across to Zoran just as he lifted his goblet.

His brows arched but she motioned for him to open it.

Alpha Rowan was too busy devouring curd to notice.

Silas was too busy glancing at his screen.

The moment Zoran's fingers flipped open the paper, he spat out his wine.

All eyes turned to Zoran as he coughed out his wine. He grabbed the napkin and hurriedly sloshed off the mess, his hands shaking a little.

The paper dissolved into the liquid.

"Uncle Zoran, is everything fine?" Silas reached out to help him clean the table's surface. Rowan too had paused munching and seemed concerned.

"Was there something in the drink, brother?"

"No. I just... forgot that I had to purchase extra yarn in order to knit like I had planned and-"

Naelis bit into her apple and licked her lips, holding his gaze when it crossed hers. Zoran's eyes got even wider seeing she wasn't bothered.

He immediately excused himself.

That was when Silas noticed the tiny piece of parchment soaking in the spilled wine.

"Is this your doing, Nae?" He whispered.

"Probably."

He fished for the paper but it was already falling apart. "What does it say?"

"Nothing you need to know in particular," she whispered back.

Rowan was confused, but he was too immersed in his lemon curd to ask.

"Alpha Rowan, I'll head upstairs for a bath. I don't want to ruin the carpets any further."

"Alright, child, I could still have the cooks prepare the boar. I'd like it with curry sauce and a little bit of parmesan."

"Of course, Alpha, enjoy."

She licked her fingers clean and waltzed away.

•••

Steam still clung to Naelis's skin as she stepped out of the washroom, drying her hair with a towel while her phone buzzed.

"Mm-hmm, yes, Sally, I'll tell you another story later, no, don't sneak cookies, you little thief," she laughed softly before hanging up.

Sally. A very soft, but yet, over-curious six-year-old.

Half-sister. Her father's bastard, but yet... a girl that had come to matter to her. Somewhat.

She tossed the towel aside, tugged on a loose robe, and flopped across her bed. With the curtains drawn and the mansion quiet, her finger hovered over her screen, tapping open something explicit.

She opened her flap and parted her legs, her heat cycles still pungent.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

The sound interrupted her before her hands could even make contact with her folds.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Silas, if that is you trying to dissuade me again-" She snatched a shoe off the floor and flung it.

The sensor-stimulation feature was still on. The doors creaked open just in time for the shoe to collide squarely with Zoran's chest.

He let out a small grunt, clutching his laptop.

"May I... have a word?" His voice was polite, but there was a rough edge beneath it.

Naelis's jaw dropped, heat rising in her cheeks. "Shit. Sorry. I thought you were... never mind. Come in."

He stepped inside, his refreshing scent hitting her nostrils.

Wild-root and coffee-tang.

She gestured behind her. "Make yourself comfortable, the bed is free."

Zoran nodded, moving stiffly to the chair instead. He set the laptop on his knees.

"I... ah... came to clarify," he began, "the note you handed me at breakfast. It was... wildly inappropriate."

Naelis stretched languidly on the bed, her damp hair spilling over her shoulders. "Oh? Inappropriate is just another word for memorable."

His gaze averted, just for a second, toward the sleek little wand-like toy resting near her pillow. He stiffened, color rising in his cheeks. He tried to look anywhere else, her window, the carpet, the wall... anywhere but there.

"Miss Haldrith-"

"-Naelis."

"N-Naelis," he said, carefully, "I am not... interested in... any of that."

She cut him off with a soft laugh.

"You sound like you swallowed a sermon. Relax, Zoran. I wasn't proposing anything serious. Just a little... fun fact." She dragged the words out deliberately, savoring his fluster.

His knuckles whitened on the edge of the laptop.

"It wasn't funny."

"It was hilarious." Her grin widened. "The way you nearly spat out your wine? Priceless."

He narrowed his eyes. "You enjoy making people uncomfortable."

"Only the ones I want to look at me twice," she shot back, leaning forward on her elbows. "And I want you to look at me, more than twice."

That silenced him.

"Aren't you thinking of getting back with my nephew?"

"No."

She slid off the bed with an almost feline grace, the hem of her robe dragging behind her. The fabric clung damply to her skin from the steam of her bath, emphasizing her figure. She sank down to her hands and knees, and then began to crawl.

Zoran felt a rush of trepidation.

He stood up. Every time her hand pressed into the carpet, he took another step back.

Her robe gaped, her cleavage visible with each movement, the curve of her breasts strained against the thin fabric, and Naelis didn't hide it, she wanted him to notice.

He didn't. At least, he tried not to. His gaze kept darting toward the wall or the floor.

"Miss Haldrith. Stop this. Calm your raging... omega hormones. There are other men out there, plenty of them. Dozens, hundreds. Someone that would willingly want this."

She laughed softly as she crawled another inch closer.

"I don't want any of them," she whispered. She crawled another pace forward, closing the gap he kept trying to create. "Let them be the fishes in the sea."

Her lips curved into a lethal smile. "For now, I just want one shark."

Zoran's back hit the wall, laptop clutched against his chest like a holy relic. "Naelis, this...this is not amusing."

Her laughter rang out. "Relax, hot cake..."

Zoran blinked. His red-ringed eyes shuffled with awkwardness.

"I'm not asking for forever," she continued, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "Just... wicked little moments. Nothing to fear, unless you're afraid of enjoying yourself."

"I am fourteen years older than you, I could be your uncle too," he blurted, as though the number itself might build a barricade.

Not when Naelis Haldrith was involved. Certainly not.

"Listen to me, young lady-"

She whimpered, letting out a half-moan that made his entire locomotive system come to a stand-still.

His lips parted in disbelief.

"Stop being so bashful and come here." Her nails reached out to grab his pants.

His back was against the wall. There were no more backward steps to take.

"N-Naelis!"

She didn't notice the intensifying red in his eyes, the venomous claws prickling at his fingertips.

"Zoran-uh... your pheromones."

Something was happening, his pores were leaking something. But it definitely wasn't pheromones.

"Enough!"

One moment his cheeks were flushed and he was frozen against the wall. The next, he leaned down and grabbed her by the throat.

Eyes blazing with distinct blood-lust.

Three days had passed, and Zoran was nowhere in her line of sight. He was absent at breakfast and neither Rowan nor Silas knew where he had gone. Her door had been fixed from when he tore it down and sprinted out, but the complexity of her thoughts? Nah.

Naelis sat on the sun-warmed bench, tilting her face toward the sky. Her heat had dulled, leaving her skin oddly restless. She should have been relieved, but instead the quiet made her itch.

Even the young pups playing nearby couldn't lift the knot in her chest. Not like she liked kids that much anyway.

Something wasn't right.

She noticed it first in the way the guards moved along the perimeter, with quicker strides and glances. It was a little whiff at first, but her nose caught the scent almost instantly.

Gunpowder.

Her senses were sharper now that she was on her period, (lunar cycle).

The first shot went off.

The children screamed, scattering like startled birds. "Shit! Get inside, quickly." Naelis yelled, springing to her feet.

They ran inside, all... but one.

A boy tripped, a painful scream was torn from his throat as his ankle snapped. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his leg. His friends attempted to skiddle back to his rescue with their little friend.

"Don't!" Naelis barked, sharper than the gunfire echoing from the borders. "Get inside! I'll handle him!"

And though their eyes brimmed with fear, they obeyed, rushing for the Alpha house.

She sprinted to the ash-haired five year old, attempting to pull him up, she tried and almost successfully got him off the ground.

Except...

She felt a sharp abdominal twinge, a menstrual cramp. She hissed, nearly doubling over. She never had cramps before, never.

"Miss, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the boy whimpered, his eyes wide.

"Shit," she muttered, clutching her stomach with one hand while shoving him up with the other. "Goddammit-go inside! Get your little playmates in, cover your ears, and stay put!"

He was conflicted. The little boy shook his head, insisting on sniffing out what was wrong with her.

Kids and their damn innocence.

"Do I have to root my claws in your snout before you run inside already?" She hissed, grabbing her abdomen and shoving him forward on his good feet.

The threat scared him and forced him to limp inside to the safety of the main house.

Naelis tried to stand up, tried to push through the twisting pain, but the cramp worsened, making her scream.

A stone was thrown toward her direction and she narrowly missed it by an inch.

Are these intruders really resorting to throwing rocks?

Another stone came from over the fence and collided with her temple. She cursed and placed her palm on her bruised forehead while still fighting her cramps.

Come on, Naelis, move!

She kept screaming at her legs that seemed paralyzed. These no longer felt like cramps but like little acidic explosions in her uterus.

The children yelled at her from inside as a large rocky stone was hurled into the air. With her chest blazing with panic and her legs immobile, all she could do was close her eyes and hope to not get crushed to smithereens. Which was highly unlikely.

Three...

Two...

One...

Firm arms slid under the knees and pulled her from the line of impact before the rock could impale itself on her skull.

Zoran.

"Your abdomen..." His eyes darted to her stomach. "What is wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" He leaned down, his nose hovering just below her navel. He inhaled. "I can smell blood...."

Naelis bit her lip, suddenly feeling very doe-like.

"Are you hurt?"

She tapped her tummy twice and he understood.

Oh, that kind of blood.

He straightened, touched her temple where the rock had grazed her. His fingers were surprisingly gentle against her skin. "It will swell if we don't handle it. There is a health kit upstairs. We can treat it there."

He was effortlessly professional like he had done this many times, saving people, carrying them. Her eyes couldn't help but notice the strands of fur jutting out from his skin.

"Why?" she asked softly, brushing her fingers against the fur before she could stop herself.

Zoran went still. His grip on her tightened, as if he was forcefully pinning the wolf back inside.

"My wolf is on edge," he admitted.

The noises of trouble outside were still very loud.

"Intruders, invaders, curious personnel, or?"

"A band of rogues. We had a fragile alliance, but they broke it."

Her brows furrowed. "Why?"

"They demanded that Rowan betroth Silas to their leader's daughter. To solidify the alliance further."

An arranged marriage?

She scoffed.

"Sometimes, some werewolves act a bit too traditional."

"The rogue leader lacks the ability of discernment."

She lifted a brow, surprised an insult was spewing out from his holy lips. "Did you just-"

"No, Naelis. I only speak the truth. Rowan refused and said that Silas should choose his own woman, in his own time. They took offense to that and said that Rowan rejected them for being rogues."

"But Alpha Rowan isn't like that."

Zoran's eyes flicked to hers, a glint of agreement in their depths. "Exactly. He wasn't looking down on them, he was simply protecting Silas's choice. And for that, they are here....."

She looked down at her abdomen scornfully.

"If not for these cramps, I would've marched down there and curdled off some heads."

"Rowan has it handled."

"I know that. But he is probably what... reasoning with these rogues? Talking? No. Rogues understand one language and one language only. Death. And Frostpine should give it to them."

"Not everything-"

"No. I guess you are some kind of delusional eunuch, I don't expect you to see that violence is necessary sometimes."

"I'm not a eunuch. Eunuchs are usually castrated. I wasn't."

"So your intact-cock is what separates you from those timble men of faith?"

He marched the stairwell quietly.

"Is your tongue always this... sharp?"

"Untamed? Unbridled? All words people use to caution me when I speak the truth and they know it."

He looked down, at the way her thick brows furrowed in anger. The way her eyes narrowed with distaste. Her feline-like eyes, radiating the same intensity her hair did.

This was the first time he really looked.

"What? Gawking now?" She rolled her eyes, "I assumed I had the body of a parasite since a certain man punched a hole in my door, to run away from me."

His eyes turned guilty. Maybe she had tried to seduce him against his will. But his actions were far from the spectrum and inexplicable. For someone who held rationality as essential.

He opened his mouth to apologize,

"Miss Haldrith,-"

Her finger pressed to his lips, sealing the words in.

"Tell me what happened and why you ran, Zoran. I want the truth."