Page 18 of Fated Wolf's Redemption

The lodge smells like Lucas—cedar, pine, and heat. I hate how easily I notice it. I’m sure there are other aromas, but they don’t register with me. His scent overwhelms all of my senses.

I trail behind Ryder through the wide entry hall as he leads us to the guest wing. Oscar and Kylie follow close, each of us a little too alert, like we’re being walked into enemy territory, even if the words say otherwise.

“This place is…” Kylie whistles under her breath. “Not what I expected from a bunch of settled wolves.”

Ryder glances over his shoulder. “We don’t live in caves, you know.”

Kylie grins, unbothered. “No, but I figured you’d be a little less… Pottery Barn meets Viking warlord.”

I cover a snort with my hand. Oscar glares at her. Ryder just keeps walking.

We pass through a vaulted common room with leather couches, a massive stone fireplace, and shelves filled with books I’d love to get my hands on later. Everything feels curated but lived-in. Warm, grounded. The kind of place that’s easy to sink into if you’re not careful.

Ryder stops at the far hallway and gestures to three heavy oak doors. “You’ll each have your own room. Fully stocked. Fresh linens. You’re our guests, and you’ll be treated as such. But I expect mutual respect.”

Oscar nods. “We’re not here to cause problems.”

Marcus’ voice cuts in before Ryder can respond. “No. You’re just here to bring them.”

I stiffen. The elder stands at the end of the hallway, arms folded, his narrow face set in stone. His appearance suggeststhat the mountain the pack protects carved him—unyielding, brittle, and already braced for collapse.

“We’re not here to stir anything,” I say evenly. “We’re trying to help. Whether or not your pride likes it.”

His eyes narrow, cold and dismissive. “The last time outsiders claimed to be helping, we lost a quarter of our northern territory.”

“That wasn’t us.”

“No. But it will always be someone.”

I lift my chin. “I’m not interested in reliving your history. I’m interested in solving the problem you’re pretending isn’t getting worse.”

Ryder steps between us before Marcus can bark back. “Enough. They stay.”

Marcus’s jaw clenches. “You’re making a mistake.”

“That’s mine to make.” Ryder’s voice never rises, but it carries the kind of weight that silences the rest of us. “You’re dismissed, Marcus.”

For a second, I think the elder might challenge him, but finally, he nods sharply and disappears down the hallway, his disapproval trailing behind him like a storm cloud.

“Friendly guy,” Kylie mutters.

Ryder rubs a hand down his face. “He’s an elder from a different generation. His view of the world is shaped by scars most of us never had to earn. Give him time.”

Oscar stays quiet. So do I.

Ryder’s gaze flicks at me. “You found something in the library, didn’t you? That’s why you asked to see the archives.”

I don’t answer right away. I’m still trying to decide if I even believe what I read. Still trying to figure out how to make sense of what’s happening with Lucas… with me.

“It’s nothing concrete,” I say. “But it’s… familiar. Stories my grandmother used to tell. Tales about soulbonds. About wolvesconnected not by choice but by destiny, but even more than fated mates. I thought they were bedtime nonsense, but now?” I trail off, not wanting to give too much.

Ryder watches me for a beat, then nods slowly. “Keep digging. But be careful what you stir up. Some stories are buried for a reason.”

He heads back down the hallway, leaving us to settle in.

I open the door to my room and stop short. It’s beautiful.

A king-sized bed with a dark wood frame sits beneath a window that overlooks the eastern ridge. A fireplace rests against the far wall, already stacked with logs. The scent of sage and cedar clings to the air. There’s even a little sitting area with an oversized armchair and a woven blanket draped over the back.

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