Evan roared. He didn't think. He just charged, the bone knife raised, ready to carve Caleb into pieces.

Kala's hand shot out. She didn't grab his collar; instead, her fingers moved like lightning, precisely clamping down on the meridian points of Evan's wrist. A sharp numbness shot up Evan's arm, instantly dissipating his forward momentum. Using his own weight against him, Kala smoothly redirected his force, making him stumble backward and land hard on his butt.

"Why?" Evan yelled, twisting his head to look up at her. His face was a mask of frustration and confusion. "Why are you stopping me? He's trespassing!"

Kala didn't answer him directly. She looked at Armond, catching his eye. She gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head.

Armond's jaw clenched. The urge to rip Caleb limb from limb was screaming in his blood. But his daughter asked for patience. He forced himself to stand still, a pillar of lethal threat, his aura pressing heavily against the porch.

Kala took a deep breath. She pulled Evan to his feet and dragged him a few steps away, lowering her voice.

"Look at what he's holding," Kala hissed into Evan's ear.

Evan glared at the porch. "I don't care what he's holding."

"That is Pearl-grass," Kala said sharply. "It's extremely rare. Augusta Frye needs it for her potions. If you attack him now, you are the one causing trouble. The Council will use it against us. Against Father."

Evan froze. He hadn't noticed the herbs. He had only seen the enemy. His shoulders slumped slightly, the fire in his eyes dimming.

"He's still a creep," Evan muttered stubbornly.

Kala sighed. She cupped Evan's face with both hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes. Her gaze was serious, stripping away all the teasing.

"Listen to me, Evan," Kala said, her voice low and firm. "I am not some naive girl who will be bought by a few weeds and sweet words. I know exactly what I want."

Evan blinked, suddenly paying attention.

Kala pointed a finger at Armond, who stood like an iron tower behind them. "I want someone like Father. Mature. Steady. Not some impulsive, arrogant pup who thinks fighting is the only way to prove himself."

Armond, who had been radiating murderous intent, suddenly perked up. The corners of his mouth twitched violently upward. The killing intent vanished, replaced by a smug, almost arrogant pride. He puffed out his chest.

Evan looked at his father's ridiculous, proud expression and rolled his eyes hard. But the anger in his chest finally settled. Caleb was nothing like Armond. Caleb was a joke.

"Put the knife away," Kala ordered, releasing Evan's face. "Keep the Padilla dignity."

Evan slid the bone knife back into its sheath. He walked over to stand beside Armond, mimicking his father's protective stance.

Kala turned back to the porch. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by the impenetrable mask of official courtesy. She walked up the wooden steps, stopping just out of arm's reach from Caleb.

Caleb had watched the entire exchange. A flicker of jealousy crossed his features before he masked it. He held out the Pearl-grass, the stems wrapped in broad leaves.

"The Council of Elders asked me to deliver this to you," Caleb said, his voice low and smooth, using the official errand as a shield for his presence. He tried to sound gentle, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed him. "They said Augusta Frye desperately needs it for her potions, and I volunteered to climb the Broken Cliff to get it for you."

Kala looked at the glowing herbs. The dew on them sparkled. It was a calculated move. He was trying to buy her gratitude with her duty.

She didn't reach for them. She simply stared at Caleb, her face unreadable.

Behind her, the air grew thick. Armond and Evan were staring holes into Caleb's hands, ready to pounce if he made a single wrong move.

Caleb's patience thinned. He pushed the herbs forward again, the leaves almost brushing the fabric of Kala's dress.

A low, vibrating growl echoed from the yard below. Armond's foot pressed against the stone path, and a hairline crack snaked out from his boot.

Kala smiled. It was a polite, empty thing.

She reached out. But she didn't take the stems. Her fingers pinched the very edge of the broad leaf wrapping the bouquet. She plucked it from his hand without a single millimeter of skin contact.

Caleb's hand hung in the air, empty. A flash of disappointment crossed his face.

"Thank you, Caleb," Kala said, her voice crisp and professional. "I will deliver this to Augusta Frye immediately. I will make sure to tell her of your contribution to the clinic."

The words were a slap in the face dressed as a compliment. She had taken his romantic gesture and filed it under 'public donation.'

Caleb's jaw tightened. The careful mask slipped for a second, revealing the anger beneath.

From the yard, Evan let out a loud, mocking snort.

Caleb took a sharp breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Will you be collecting dew at the forest edge tomorrow?" he asked, trying again. "I could escort you."

"No," Kala said instantly. "I will be processing these herbs all day. I will be at the clinic."

Caleb's pride stung. He was the elite warrior of the pack, and this female was treating him like a delivery boy. He wanted to push, to demand, but her smile was so perfectly polite that he had no angle of attack.

Armond finally moved. He walked up the steps, his massive body filling the space between Kala and Caleb. He looked down at the younger male, his eyes cold and dismissive.

"Padilla family dinner," Armond said, his voice a deep rumble. "No outsiders allowed. Get out."

Caleb's fists clenched at his sides. He knew he had lost this round. He gave Kala a stiff, formal warrior's bow, turned on his heel, and walked down the steps.

As he passed Evan, Caleb threw a look of pure, unmasked contempt at the boy.

Evan bristled, his hand flying to his knife, but a sharp look from Armond froze him in place.

Caleb disappeared into the darkness. The oppressive atmosphere on the porch finally lifted.

Armond turned around and immediately snatched the Pearl-grass from Kala's hands. He held it away from his body like it was a dead rat.

"Take this filth," Armond grumbled, shoving the bundle into Evan's chest. "Throw it at that old woman Augusta first thing tomorrow."

Kala laughed out loud, the sound ringing clear in the night. She pushed open the heavy wooden door of the cabin.

Warm, orange light spilled out, along with the mouth-watering smell of roasting meat.

Kala stepped into the entryway. She was just bending down to unlace her boots when Evan's voice rang out from behind her.

"Kala!" Evan whined, his tone dripping with sour jealousy. "You were so nice to him. You didn't have to be that polite. Don't tell me you actually like that fake guy?"

Armond, who had been hanging up his fur coat, froze. His hand stopped halfway to the hook. The air in the entryway dropped a few degrees.

Kala closed her eyes. She inhaled slowly, counting to three in her head. She turned around to face her brother.

She reached out and grabbed Evan's ear. She pinched hard.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Evan yelped, trying to pull away, but Kala's grip was iron.

"Is your brain made of rocks?" Kala scolded, her voice sharp. "Do you understand nothing about social etiquette? Do you want the whole pack to think the Padillas are savages?"

"I don't like him," Evan sulked, rubbing his red ear once she let go. "Other females have a bunch of strong mates. You're the best female in the pack. You should have the best warriors!"

Kala's expression turned serious. She dropped her hand and took a step back, her eyes locking onto Evan's.

"I could never handle living in a house that constantly feels like a battlefield," Kala declared, her voice firm and unyielding. "I just want peace, not a daily war over who gets to guard my door."

Evan stared at her, confused.

"If I ever choose a mate," Kala continued, her voice dropping to a casual but serious tone, "one is more than enough of a headache for me. Just one person. I don't have the energy for a whole pack of them."

Evan's jaw dropped. He looked at her like she had grown a second head. In the beast world, monogamy was a death sentence. It was an anomaly. It was heresy.

"One?" Evan stuttered. "That's insane! One mate can't protect you during the harsh winter! You need a pack!"

Kala scoffed. "Are you saying the men of the Padilla family are useless?" she challenged. "Can't you protect me?"

It was the ultimate trap.

Armond snapped to attention, his chest puffing out. "Who dares touch you?" he bellowed, looking around for an enemy to crush. "I'll tear them apart!"

Kala pressed her advantage. "My future mate," she said loudly, "has to defeat Armond first. Or get a unanimous vote from this family."

It was a dead end. She knew Armond would never let anyone pass. It was her perfect shield.

Evan looked deflated. He couldn't argue with that logic.

A soft, rhythmic sound came from the stairs. Footsteps. Light, elegant, and unhurried.

A man descended from the second floor. He wore a dark silk shirt, buttoned to the top. His posture was straight, his movements precise. He exuded an aura of cold intellect.

Joaquin Townsend. Rhiannon's other mate. Kala's second father.

Joaquin pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. A faint, chilling smile played on his lips. "A perfect idea," he said, his voice smooth like velvet over steel.

Evan squeaked. He instantly shrank behind Armond, trying to make himself as small as possible. He had been complaining about Joaquin's creepy vibe just that morning.

Joaquin walked past Evan without a glance. He stopped in front of Kala. He reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The gesture was intimate and doting.

"Next time you spread rumors," Joaquin said, his voice light but his eyes cold as they flicked to Evan, "I will pull out your tongue."

Evan slapped both hands over his mouth, his eyes wide with terror.

Kala beamed. She threw her arms around Joaquin's, hugging his elbow. "Uncle Joaquin!" she chirped. "You're home!"