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.

Chapter Nine – The Alpha's Dilemma

Tristan

Tristan stood outside the infirmary, jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. The scent of her clung to him even through the closed door-wildflowers and rain, maddeningly sweet, wrapping around his senses like a snare.

Thorne prowled in his chest, restless, claws dragging across his soul. She is ours, the wolf snarled. Claim her. Hold her. Protect her from everyone, even your own guards.

"She's a stranger," Tristan muttered under his breath. "A rogue. An ex-Pearl pack member. My mate or not, she is a risk."

She is not a rogue, Thorne snapped. She fights like us. Bleeds like us. Smells like truth. You saw her eyes, Tristan-you know she is not lying.

Tristan dragged a hand through his pale hair, tugging at the strands until pain sparked across his scalp. He couldn't let himself give in. The mate bond was a gift, yes-but it could also be a curse. If he accepted her blindly, he could be endangering his entire pack. The Melting Moon wolves depended on him to be cautious, to be ruthless when necessary.

And yet...

He remembered the sight of her tied to the cot, tears streaking her face as she begged him to believe her. He remembered the way her voice shook when she said Jalen had cast her aside for another. The way she'd said, I wasn't going to bother anyone. I just wanted to survive.

It twisted something inside him. He'd seen rogues before, half-feral and consumed by madness. This woman was nothing like them. Her eyes still held fire. Her body bore wounds not from aimless violence, but from battle-desperate, defensive, raw.

"Alpha." A voice broke his storming thoughts. His Beta, Liora, approached, bowing her head. "Do you want me to send scouts to check her claims?"

Tristan hesitated, then nodded curtly. "Yes. Just the woods past the border. If she speaks truth, there should be dead rogues not far."

Liora glanced at the infirmary door. "And if she doesn't?"

His gaze flicked to the faint light spilling from under the doorframe, and his chest tightened. "Then I'll decide what to do with her."

But when Liora left, Tristan stayed where he was, staring at the door as if sheer will could tear it down. His hands flexed, itching to untie her binding ropes, to comfort her, to soothe away the anguish he had seen in her trembling frame.

She is ours, Thorne growled again, the word echoing with primal certainty.

Tristan closed his eyes, his voice rough. "If she is ours, then why would the goddess tie me to a broken Luna? Why give me a mate who belongs to another? This could start a war"

The wolf's answer was a low, steady rumble in his bones. Because she never truly belonged to him.