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.

Chapter Ten – Bound and Questioned

Evandra

The ropes dug deeper into her wrists when the door opened again. Her heart lurched, and her wolf, Sage, pressed forward in her chest with a tremor of recognition.

He's here, Sage whispered, equal parts longing and rage. Our mate.

Evandra swallowed hard as Tristan stepped into the room. His presence filled it instantly, a shadow stretching across the walls. The air seemed to thicken, and though she hated it-hated him-her body reacted to the mate bond's magnetic pull.

He closed the door behind him with deliberate calm and came closer. His scent rolled over her, stronger now: moss, smoke, and the faint tang of iron. She tried not to breathe it in, but her lungs betrayed her.

His gaze pinned her. "You say you were not running with the rogues."

"I wasn't." Her voice cracked, but she forced steel into it. "They were hunting me. I killed three of them on my own."

A flicker of something passed across his expression-surprise, maybe-but it was gone in a second. He folded his tattooed arms over his broad chest, looming like judgment itself. "And why would rogues be hunting you?"

Evandra let out a bitter laugh that sounded too much like a sob. "Because I was alone. Weak. Prey. Isn't that what everyone sees when they look at a discarded Luna?"

Tristan's eyes narrowed. "You expect me to believe that the Alpha of the Pearl Pack would cast away his Luna? You?" His voice cut sharp as a blade. "No Alpha worth his rank would be so careless. Unless you betrayed him."

The words sliced her open, deeper than he knew. She sucked in a ragged breath, shaking her head. "I never betrayed Jalen. I loved him. I gave everything to that pack. But it wasn't enough." Her chest heaved, tears spilling hot down her cheeks. "He wanted an heir, and I couldn't give him one. So he found someone who could. And the moment she got pregnant, he divorced me, rejected me, broke our bond and banished me from the pack. I had nothing but a night gown and a thin cover up on. I walked through the woods in house slippers for miles until I lost my sense of direction and the soles wore on my slippers. Nothing to help me stay warm except the embrace of my own arms."

For the first time, Tristan faltered. His posture shifted, his arms lowering just slightly. The green fire in his eyes dimmed, softened by something like shock-or pity.

"I told you already," she whispered, her voice breaking. "If you don't believe me, send your Beta to Pearl Pack. You'll see I was replaced. Ask your scouts to search the woods-you'll find the hut I built with my own hands, and the rogues I killed to survive." She lifted her bound wrists. "But stop keeping me tied up like I'm a liar."

Sage surged forward, fierce and raw. Show him we are not weak. Show him our truth.

Tristan stared at her for a long moment, jaw tight, chest rising with heavy breaths. He could feel her anguish-he knew it was real. The bond didn't lie. And yet, his duty clawed at him like bound ties of his own.

Finally, his voice came low and rough. "If your story proves true... then you are not my prisoner." His green eyes burned into hers, softer now but still guarded. "But you are not free either. Not yet."

Then he turned and left her alone again, her tears glistening in the faint torchlight.