They summoned Zane to the old house's study, and there I sat on the edge of the sofa, eyes on my lap like lead.

Harold chucked a stack of docs across the desk, barking like a drill sergeant. "Sign 'em already-handover grind for the pack's ops."

Zane peeled back a page, giving it the once-over, and earned a sharp tsk from the old man, patience thinner than frost.

He quit stalling, flipped the corners, and scratched his mark down the line. "Locked in."

The words landed, and my temple throbbed-gaze snared on the bundle's gut, that taut wire in me slackened. Still, something vital slipped away, leaving a void.

Harold herded us to the threshold, while the help shuttled load after load of tonics into the trunk-back seat a fortress of jars, no inch spared.

"House's stocked solid-keep 'em for yourself..." Zane trailed off under a withering side-eye.

"Not a scrap for you, boy!" Harold clapped my shoulder, his look loaded with unspoken weight. "Cleared it with the healers already. Get that checkup squared away-no lingering shadows, hear?"

Zane's stare raked me head to toe, sharpening. "Shadows? You under the weather?"

I shook it off, dodging that blaze in his eyes, palm fluttering to shield my middle before I sidestepped. "Grandpa... if the winds blow right, I'll circle back your way."

Zane's brow creased-he smelled the shift, off-kilter as a lame gait.

The drive dragged in dead air, me zipped tight for once.

On a normal haul, I'd fumble through chatter, tossing lines till he'd grunt a bone.

"Come whine to Harold, that it?" He cracked the quiet, pegging me for still stewing. "Over a mutt? You're jealous now? Vivian's got a soft spot-says that collar fits Snowy to a T. I'll square you a fresh one..."

I cut him soft, low. "Pass."

My grip crushed the phone till knuckles bleached.

Anything she craved? Off my wishlist.

Screen flared: Harold's unbound draft, crisp.

Our marks, shoulder to shoulder-like the last time on the binding scroll.

Back then, all teeth and no tail for the legacy grab. Three years of this grind? Soul-sucked. Over it.

A shrill chime pierced the cab-Zane thumbed it live, and Vivian's voice tumbled out, quaking like a leaf. "Zane... Snowy's seizing up, twitching wild-I'm losing it here. What if... what if she doesn't pull through?"

His paws locked the wheel white-knuckled, yanking a hard veer. Inertia slammed me into the glass-skull cracked the pane, pain folding me double.

"Vivian, cradle that pup at the door. Hold tight-I'm inbound, alright?" That tone? Velvet worry, a stranger's lilt.

He burned through every light, tires screeching to a halt at her stoop.

"Zane..." Vivian gawked at the jammed rear, clutching the dog like a lifeline, wails cranking louder. "Snowy, hang on for Mama, please?"

Zane twisted my way, reaching to pop my harness. "Hop out-I'll rush 'em to the healers, loop back for you..."

I didn't let him finish-shook off his grasp and bailed.

She barreled past, shoulder-checking me hard as she dove in. "Zane, floor it-Snowy's gone ice-cold."

I reeled, barely righted, and his taillights were ghosts in the flurry.

A laugh bubbled up, ragged-tears carving rivers down my face, unstoppable.

Pick-your-poison roulette, three years running? Never landed my square.

Now up against her flea circus? Still drawing the short straw.

I wheeled to ghost when the tail end of the drive erupted-raucous yips and jeers.

"Lame bet. Rode it three winters-threw my stake when she swelled up, figuring she'd stick. Ditched again? Buzzkill."

"Nia, fresh rejection from Zane? Float you a ride home? Word from Vivian's you gotta grovel for a dime-tsk, pack's queen playing street scrounger."

"Were it not for that fluke save on Zane's grandsire, Vivian'd be whelping his litter by now, pups underfoot."

Those sneers-etched on faces of their shared packmates, wolves who'd run with them both.

They'd flung the barbs to my face for three cycles. I'd swallowed 'em down. This round? Throat closed for business. "Long as I'm bound, they're sidelined-off the scent. Don't sleep on it: Zane's throne? My doing. Without that, he'd still be scrapping in the dirt for a scrap of legacy he'd never sniff."

No debts left on the ledger. Clean break. Paid in full.

I came to under a sloppy barrage of licks, those wet laps pulling me from the black. Blinking awake, there it was-a dog's mug shoved right up in my grill, all slobber and stare.

Shadows from those hellish days I'd holed up healing crashed back in: a pack of feral mutts baying at my heels, me eating dirt, then that ragged snarl of teeth and pain as they piled on. Still felt like yesterday.

"Ah!" The scream ripped out before I could choke it. I snatched up a pillow and hurled it like a lifeline.

Curled tight as a spring, I wedged myself in the corner, quaking like a leaf in a gale.

Zane and Vivian burst through the door like a storm front, scooping up the whimpering mutt from the floorboards.

Vivian's voice cracked, thick with that fake ache. "Nia, Snowy's just a harmless pup. If you've got beef with me, spit it out-don't go savage on her! And you're about to whelp your own-maybe rack up some good karma for the little one's sake?"

My breaths evened out slow, those knee-jerk tears clinging to my lashes till I swiped 'em gone.

Karma? I'd piled it sky-high, and look what it bought me: that poor lost soul in my belly, snuffed before it drew breath.

Zane gave the dog the once-over-no scratches-then pinned me with a look sour as week-old milk. "Enough with the drama already, Nia. You're crossing lines here."

Me crossing lines?

My stare locked on Vivian's getup: legs bare as the day, drowning in an oversized button-down that hit her like a tent. Stark white, it burned my eyes-my pick for Zane's birthday this year, special-ordered with all the heart I could muster.

She fumbled to button up the gap flashing her chest, words tumbling in a panic. "It's not what you're thinking! Last night, Zane and I stayed up late with Snowy on her drip-crashed right here. I didn't pack a change; he tossed me this on the fly. If it bugs you, I'll ditch it now!"

She half-rose, like she was bolting, then wheeled back with this oh-duh lightbulb, eyes flicking to Zane all troubled. "Wait-my stuff from yesterday's soaked through... Nah, still, I'll swap it out."

A sneeze cluster hit her then, hand clamped over her nose.

Zane snagged her wrist in a vise, his mug twisting uglier than sin. "No need."

Vivian shot me a pleading glance. "But..."

He cut in, flat. "Nia, ease up-don't go all hard-ass. I gave her the shirt. You expect her to sack out in damp threads on a night like that?"

I hauled myself up, gaze scraping his storm-brew face-itching to crack it open with a slap.

Not a word from me, and suddenly I'm the bully in the crosshairs.

I fired back, cool as frost. "My closet's jammed with threads-none fit her just right?"

Zane clammed up, busted.

Vivian's hack broke the ice-wet, hacking coughs. She swatted his arm, all pouty scold. "Your fault, big guy. Dragged me up to the roof deck past midnight for stargazing, or I wouldn't be fighting this bug. Or gotten splashed with that red-cue the mix-up with Nia..."

Roof deck.

My pupils blew wide.

That's where Zane and I locked eyes back in college-astronomy club nights, sparks flying under the scopes. After we bound, I turned our top-floor balcony into a full setup: pro gear, cozy nests, poured my guts into it.

Every invite for a midnight watch? Met with his shrug-off, every damn time.

Figured the grind had burned it out of him.

Turns out, just me he'd cooled on.

Found someone else to chase constellations with.

Fingers dug into my hip to keep my mask locked-no tells, no cracks.

Zane's eyes darted my way, braced for the usual waterworks, that puppy-dog pout and endless whine.

Too tired to unpack it.

Just a shirt. She was splitting hairs.

But this time? His stare hung on my blank profile-no flinch, no furrow.

Should've been a win. Instead, some itch flared under his ribs, unexplained.

Vivian tamped down her smirk, ducking behind him, voice all fragile. "Nia, word is you're a wizard with mushroom stew-mind whipping up a bowl? This cold's kicking my tail."

I didn't glance up, ice in my tone. "Not my gig, nursemaid."

"Sorry-I didn't mean it like that," she mewled, hand to her chest as another cough rattled loose, big eyes swimming to Zane. "Zane, does Nia hate my guts? What'd I screw up?"

He petted her crown soft, like soothing a spooked foal. "Ain't on you."

Wheel to me, and the warmth evaporated-patience torched.

He clamped my arm, marched me to the kitchen, pinned me in the nook. Dropped to a squat, eye-level with my deadpan stare. "Cut the crap, yeah? Vivian said her piece-call truce? It's one bowl of soup. Do it for me?"

My gaze dropped to the angry red welt scorched across my hand's back.

Freshly bound, I'd fretted over his all-nighters running the pack's reins-slaved over custom grub every dawn, loaded with all the fixings to keep him sharp.

Payoff?

Vivian's posts: my handiwork dumped in Snowy's slop dish, like table scraps.

Jaw clenched, I swallowed the lump, shoved him off to bolt-but his voice sliced cold as a blade. "Got your dam's heirloom back from hock. Want it? Play nice."

I whipped around, gobsmacked. He loomed, gaze hard as flint-no give, pure order.

For one bowl? Holding my mother's ghost over my head.

College days, her passing-he'd shouldered the rites with me, knelt grave-side and swore moon and stars: love eternal, guard her shadow forever.

Vows turn to smoke quick. He'd shed that skin long ago.

Lips quivered, nose stinging sharp.

Vivian yipped from the hall. He bailed in a flash, tossing over his shoulder: "She skips the sweet-go light on the sugar."

I ferried the steaming bowl to the table. Vivian leaned in for a whiff, nose crinkling like she'd sniffed roadkill. "Smells rank."

Zane steadied it under her chin, huffing cool breaths while he coaxed like a doting sire. "Down the hatch-that's the cure. Give it another go."

She sipped from his hold, dainty as a fawn. "Still scorches a bit."

...

Numb as a post, I climbed the stairs, their chatter fading to a dull hum behind the latch.

Yanked the old suitcase from its hidey-hole, started folding in the threads I'd hauled over three years back-neat stacks, no fuss.

The racks of high-dollar labels? Left 'em cold. Untouched.

Couldn't even claim the pick- just borrowed glamour, no strings owned.

Door creaked as Zane shouldered in; I'd just clicked the locks.

His growl rumbled low. "Where you headed?"

Shoved the case behind the panel, I shrugged it off. "Over it-trash run."

But the pivot slammed me back against the vanity. "Yeah, you're the pack's darling now, back for the high life, right? That hit the spot? Closets bursting with silks and sparklers, rides on tap. Back when you snagged that five mil payout-dreamed of this glow-up?"

He crowded my space, hot breath ghosting my neck, each syllable a barb sinking deep.

I'd sworn it a thousand ways: that cash? Never touched a dime.

Never sank in.

Locked eyes with his wild, shadowed glare-obsession churning-and for the first time, I zipped it.

What good was yelling myself hoarse?

Whatever. Let it lie.

Done clawing innocence from a wolf who'd never buy it.

Head down, I let out a feather-light sigh.

He read it as checkmate, snagged my wrist, yanked my chin up. "Still peddling the 'not for the green' line? Then why you save Grandpa? Why me in the lineup? Show me! Prove you're in it for me-for real!"

His bark cracked, fraying at the edges, madness bubbling.

My wrist ground under his grip, bones grinding-I bit back a yelp, then he flung me loose.

Slam. Door rattled shut. Legs buckled; I pooled on the floor.

Three years of his "prove it" gauntlets. Three years of me showing, not telling.

Harvest? Bottomless digs and spits.

Head to knees, the dam cracked-shoulders shaking, sobs sneaking out in hitches.

Till dusk bled to pitch black. I clawed the wall for leverage, snagged the buzzing phone from the quilt.

Thumbed it live: call from the burial grounds. "Nia, slides hit the ridge hard these days-your dam's plot hugs the drop. Groundskeeper just clocked the stone cracked through. Gotta relocate before tomorrow's downpour, or even the ashes go. Relo plus fresh spot? Around a hundred grand."

Clicked off, tore the place apart hunting funds.

App pinged up the request-hundred K, queued for three-day vetting.

Too late. Way too.

Shoes jammed on in a scramble, flicked open a post: Vivian's fresh drop, Zane deep in her house's bash.

Beat feet over there; found him hunkered in a sofa corner, slamming a full glass of red like it was water.

Vivian blinked, thrown. "Nia? What's the play?"

Ignored her flat, lasered on Zane.

Teens below, that arctic bite-I'd sprinted the whole haul, sweat beading my spine. "Zane... can we step out? Just a sec."

She plopped beside him, all sugar. "Nia, spill it here-pack's tight, right? Out there's a freezer; he just tossed back vino-could catch a chill."

Planted there, I watched him freeze, just arching a brow, raking me top to tail. "Out with it."

Ice in his drawl, zero nod to the raw scramble twisting my gut.

A dozen stares bored in-palms slick, my ask wobbled out. "Can I hit you up for a hundred grand?"

Boom. Laughter exploded, shattering the air.

Cheeks blazed, scalp crawling tight.

But Mom's remains sat exposed-no play B.

"Nia, Zane's mate and you're broke for a Benjamin stack? Here-my kicks, gently used. Still north of ten large."

"Crashing to stir the pot? Like he's shorting you or something."

Vivian stifled her giggle, hand to mouth, all wide-eyed wisdom. "What's the cash grab for? New drops hit, Zane snaps 'em all your way-threads, bling. Nia, greed's a slippery slope."

Zane's eyes shuttered dark, knuckles whitening on his stem.

That probe in his stare stabbed fresh-doubt twisting the knife-but I muscled through. "Mom's marker got smashed in the slide-need to shift it, snag a new plot. It's a loan-I'll square up."

Vivian snort-laughed, waving it off apologetic-like. "Whoops, Nia-had to. But that's a whopper of a fib. Landslide? Not a peep on the wires. Pick a better yarn next time if you want Zane to bite. And cursing your own dam's ghost? Whew-even a stray like me thinks that's low-road."