Page 96 of Wolf's Reckoning
Adair nodded slowly. “Of course he is. He’s a male. They’realwaysup to something.”
“No.” I looked at her. “This feels different. Like he’s—maneuvering. But not just politically. Personally.”
“Well, you did marry him.”
“It isn’t real.”
Her smile was soft. Pitying. And a little infuriating. “No, but the way he looks at you? It could be if you wanted it to be.”
I shook my head, rising again, pacing the floor. “No. No, no. This is a game to him. Power consolidation. Territory gain. This is about the pack. About the Pack Council. About hisego.”
“Or maybe,” she said, voice quiet, “it’s about you.”
I hated the lump in my throat that rose at that. I hated that itwasn’trage I felt anymore. That it wasconfusion.That maybe, just maybe, under all the fighting, I was starting to wonder if Wolfe was the only one who had ever seen me for who I was—and liked what he saw anyway.
“I can’t be here,” I said to her, striding for the door. I stopped and looked back. “Do you…do you need me here?”
She shook her head, fighting a smile. “Nope, we’re pretty much ready to go, and hopefully we’ll be finished today.”
I nodded, my eyes scanning the group of workers waiting for me to leave. There were two or three women, and I knew I was frowning as I took in their lithe figures and pretty, arranged hair.
I turned back to Adair. “Only you in the bedroom.” Ispoke fast under my breath, in a rush to get the traitorous words out. “Only if you have to.”
I would die if she laughed, and thankfully, she merely nodded, and I practically ran out the door before the sound of her amusement followed me. What was happening to me? I was becoming territorial over who was allowed in our bedroom.
Our?
Goddess Luna, what have you done to me?I demanded as I made my way to the pack hall.
I shrugged off the crazy feelings and sense ofwrong, and by the time I got to the hall, I was determined to start the morning with purpose. Spine straight, lists to conquer, and orders ready.
Routine was my armor. Always had been. I started in my rooms, packing up what I thought I would need, having a clearer idea of what I was heading into. I should have been proud of how quickly the pack had transformed an old, unused house into a functional one; instead, I only resented their competence.
When I was done with my final packing, I made the rounds—checked in with Lewis about the border shifts, only to be told Wolfe had them in hand. I smiled and bit my tongue. Then, when I went to update the rotation for the hunting patrols, one of the younger pack told me that Killian had taken care of that this morning. I nodded, brushing it aside. It was fine, it was part of the change. But when they started talking excitedly about training rotations with the males from Stonefang Pack, I put my politeness aside and left them without another word.
In the kitchens, I discussed the weekly menus with theones who prepared and did all the cooking. Ordering and checking supplies for the food halls was the same as ever. My voice held the same weight as always.
Feeling better, I went outside and saw three of the scouts at the far end of the clearing. I made my way over, like I had done many times before. They chatted easily and were like they always were. Respectful but reserved. Or so I thought. At first…they listened. They participated. Heads dipped. Nods were given.
But then came the looks. Small at first. A glance over my shoulder. A subtle pause after I made a suggestion or gave an instruction. I caught it from the corner of my eye—one of the scouts hesitating before moving, eyes scanning the ridge behind me like he was waiting for confirmation.
“What are you looking at?” I asked, looking over my shoulder. I saw Wolfe and Killian just beyond the tree line, and I knew the answer to my question.
They were waiting for Wolfe.
I turned back and saw three very bashful faces. “Really?” I asked, my voice low. “I’ve run this pack for almost a year. Is there something different you think he—” I hesitated. I could not show scorn for their leader; I needed to be more diplomatic. “Is there something you think that he’ll suggest to you that I haven’t?”
They all shook their heads, and I didn’t show the grace I should have. I simply gave a curt nod, a grunt of agreement, and walked away. I wanted to keep walking right to the edge of the ridge and scream into the void.
I didn’t. We were supposed to harvest our small crop of corn in a week, and I needed to make sure we hadeverything ready. But it happened again—Wolfe had already taken stock of what was needed and changed the schedule.
Fine. It was earlier than I would have harvested, but it wouldn’t make too much difference. All morning, it happened again and again. He’d already either done something or they were looking past meforhim.
Even Lewis, steady as stone, hesitated to answer one of my directives until Wolfe emerged from the trail nearby. Not to correct me—just to exist. Breathe in the same damn space. That was all it took.
The moment he was in view, the pack settled. Like the gravity of him reset their instincts. It burned. Hot and heavy and familiar. This was what had always been denied to me—instinctual trust. They trusted him before he even opened his mouth. They trusted me only if I proved myself first.
And I was tired of proving myself to wolves that had been raised alongside me, grown on the same land, and learned the same rites.
