Chapter Six – A Rogue's Scent

Evandra

Her paws stumbled, body giving out as the world tilted and blurred. She could hear snarls and howls all around, but they weren't rogues anymore-these were stronger, disciplined, the sound of warriors.

Then the ground rushed up to meet her. She shifted back mid-fall, her battered human form hitting the dirt. Pain flared bright and merciless in her shoulder, her breath shallow and ragged.

Shapes closed in: wolves, sleek and powerful, hackles raised. Her vision blurred, but she caught a flash of silver-gray fur and the glint of spears tipped in moonlight. Voices shouted over her head, rough but controlled.

"She crossed the border!"

"Rogues are behind her-watch for ambush!"

Evandra tried to speak, to tell them she wasn't a threat, but blood filled her mouth, turning her words to a cough. Her body trembled, unable to shift again.

And then everything stilled.

A new presence stepped forward, and the wolves parted without hesitation. Tall, broad-shouldered, eyes piercing green catching the moonlight. His scent was cedar smoke and steel, Alpha strength rolling off him in waves.

He was looking at her.

Tristan

Tristan Walker's wolf surged the moment the scent hit him. Wildflowers and rain, fresh and intoxicating, a fragrance so vivid he could almost taste it. Thorne lunged inside him, snarling with recognition, desperate to get closer.

Mate.

The word shook him to his core. Tristan staggered, his chest tightening as the bond snapped into place. His mate. His goddess-given mate... lying broken on the dirt of his border.

But she was a rogue.

Panic coiled like a viper in his gut. Thorne raged, clawing against him. She is ours. Claim her. Protect her.

"No," Tristan ground out inwardly, forcing control. She reeks of rogue blood. She came with them, Thorne. What trick is this?

Thorne's snarl shook him. I don't care where she came from. She is ours.

Tristan turned sharply, addressing his sentries, ignoring the magnetic pull dragging him toward the woman. "Take her to the infirmary. Treat her shoulder." His voice was ice. "Bind her with rope, not silver cuffs, she is already injured enough. But I still want answers."

The wolves obeyed instantly, hauling the broken stranger to her feet. Tristan forced himself to turn away, his heart hammering as Thorne clawed for release.

He didn't dare look again.

Evandra

She drifted in and out of consciousness as rough hands carried her, as ropes tightened around her wrists. The sting burned against her skin, locking her beneath her flesh. She tried to fight, to explain, but her body was too weak.

The next she knew, she was lying on a cot, the scent of herbs and steel filling the air. Bandages wound tightly around her shoulder. The ropes were tied to the bedframe.

Her chest tightened. A prisoner.

The door opened, and she lifted her head. He stood there. The Alpha who had found her. His green eyes locked on hers.

And recognition struck like lightning.

She knew him. She remembered him standing tall at the Moon Gala, black suit gleaming, his presence commanding even from across the hall. She remembered brushing past him in the photo line, her arm slipping through Jalen's as she tried to pose for the cameras, Jalen stiff as stone beside her. Tristan Walker had been watching.

And now here he was, staring at her as though he'd seen a ghost.

His lips parted slightly, confusion warring with something raw in his gaze.

"You," Tristan murmured, more to himself than to her. "The Pearl Pack's Luna."

Evandra's throat tightened. Shame, pain, and fury tangled in her chest. "Not anymore," she whispered.

Chapter Seven – The Ropes of Truth

Tristan

Tristan shut the infirmary door behind him, the weight of his wolf pressing hard against his chest. Thorne prowled, restless, snarling with need. She is ours. Ours. Claim her now.

Tristan ignored the voice, his jaw hardening. The woman tied to the bed was no ordinary trespasser-he knew her face, her presence. She was Evandra Johnson, Luna of the Pearl Pack. Or she had been.

And now she was here. Broken. Alone. Reeking of rogue blood.

He stepped closer, his eyes sharp and unforgiving. "Why are you here?" he demanded, voice like steel. "Did you betray your pack? Are you running with rogues now?"

Evandra's breath hitched. Her lip trembled, though she tried to steel it. "I didn't-" Her voice cracked, breaking like glass. "I didn't betray anyone."

Tears welled, spilling before she could stop them. Her body shook against the restraints, shoulders curling in as the weight of his words pressed down. "I just... I just lost everything." She said it through sobs as she turned her face away from him.

Tristan's chest tightened, though he forced his face to remain impassive. Thorne raged inside him, snarling at her tears, aching to comfort her. Tristan ground his teeth. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

Evandra squeezed her eyes shut, sobs trembling through her body. "How can this even be happening? Another mate bond? So soon?" She pressed her bound hands to her face, voice breaking. "Has the pain of rejection even left me? I thought the goddess had already destroyed me."

Something flickered in Tristan's gaze, but he stayed silent, waiting.

Finally, Evandra dropped her hands, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes. Her voice steadied with something sharp, something desperate. "If you don't believe me, send your Beta to Pearl Pack. See for yourself. There's a new woman at Jalen's side already."

Tristan stiffened. Jalen. The Alpha of Pearl. The one who had stood cold beside her at the gala, a statue while his Luna had shone alone.

Evandra drew in a shuddering breath. "Go into the woods near your border. You'll find the bodies of the rogues I killed. Three of them. I fought them to survive. And you'll find the little home I built-wood, moss, scraps-everything I could manage just to keep myself alive through the storms. It's in shambles now, but I'm certain the pieces are still there."

Her eyes filled again, but she forced the words out. "I wasn't going to bother anyone. I wasn't going to trespass. I was going to live there, in between pack borders, and disappear. But the rogues... there were too many. They drove me out."

Silence thickened between them. Only her ragged breathing filled the room.

Tristan's fists clenched at his sides, torn between fury and disbelief. Evandra Johnson, the once-proud Luna, reduced to this? His wolf snarled at him, demanding he release her, protect her, claim her.

But Tristan's voice came out hard, colder than he meant. "If your words are true, they can be proven. If they are lies, you'll answer for them."

He turned sharply toward the door, though his heart thundered in his chest. He needed space-away from her scent, away from her eyes that made his wolf howl.

Behind him, tied to the bed, Evandra closed her eyes and whispered to Sage, I told the truth. The rest is in his hands now.

Chapter Eight – Wading in Thoughts

Evandra

The ropes chafed her wrists each time she shifted on the infirmary cot. Their sting was constant, a cruel reminder that she was a prisoner here, not a guest. The room smelled of herbs and steel, but underneath it all lingered the Alpha's scent-smoke, steel, and the faintest trace of moss. It clung to her skin, embedded in her lungs.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push it away. Trying not to remember the way his piercing green eyes had seared into hers, curious and cautious all at once. Mate, Sage had whispered, trembling inside her. And the word had nearly undone her.

How can it be true? Evandra thought bitterly. The goddess has already taken everything from me. She cannot give me this again... can she? A second chance mate.

Her mind dragged her back, unwilling, to the moment Jalen had shattered her world. The coldness in his eyes when he said "I want a divorce." The way he'd barely flinched as he told her another woman already carried his pup. The weight of his rejection when he spoke her name as if it were a curse.

The pain of it lingered, sharp and unrelenting. The ache of a severed bond.

And yet when she looked at Tristan Walker, something deep inside her stirred. The bond tugged at her heart, undeniable, a pull she couldn't silence. She hated it-hated herself for feeling it.

Her chest shook with silent sobs. Is this what I am to the goddess? A toy to be bound and broken again and again?

The door creaked open, and the air shifted.

Tristan entered, and her breath caught despite herself. He was not polished like Jalen, not sleek and cold in his black suits. Tristan was raw power, unrefined, a warrior carved from battle.

His shirt clung to his chest, muscles defined and hard as stone. Tattoos scrawled over his arms and shoulders, curling across his chest and disappearing down his back like living shadows. His skin was bronzed from the sun. His hair-icy blond, loose and falling past his chin-framed his face in untamed waves. A dusting of stubble shadowed his jaw, making him look wild and dangerous.

And his eyes. Goddess help her, those piercing green eyes glowed with the same light as his wolf's. They saw everything. Too much.

Evandra turned her face away, ashamed of the heat rising in her cheeks.

Jalen had never looked at her like this Alpha did in a single glance. Jalen had only ever measured her worth in heirs, in status, in how she reflected upon him. Tristan looked at her as though she was both a puzzle and a threat, as though he might tear her apart or protect her with his life.

And that terrified her.

She curled against the wall, whispering to Sage, I can't. Not again. Not so soon.

But Sage only whimpered, her voice soft and aching. He is strong. He could protect us. He could love us.

Evandra pressed her cuffed hands over her heart, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Or he could destroy us," she whispered back.