Chapter 8: Shadows and Secrets

The morning sun pierced through the thin curtains of my room, dragging me from the fragile peace of sleep. The events of the previous night rushed back with the force of a tidal wave, and my stomach twisted with a mixture of longing and dread. Dax’s words, his touch, the unspoken promise in his eyes—they were all too vivid, too real.

I pushed myself out of bed and headed for the shower, hoping the scalding water would wash away the weight pressing down on me. Steam filled the small bathroom as I stepped under the spray, letting the heat seep into my muscles. But no amount of water could cleanse the guilt that lingered just beneath my skin.

Guilt…and something else. Desire.

A sharp knock on the bathroom door jolted me back to reality. “Alina? You’ve got five minutes. Jack wants everyone in the main hall.” Kara’s voice was muffled but urgent.

“Got it,” I called back, hastily finishing up and wrapping myself in a towel.

By the time I reached the main hall, the room was already buzzing with tension. Jack stood at the front, his arms crossed and his expression grim. Dax was beside him, his face a mask of calm, but his eyes found mine the moment I entered. Heat flared in my cheeks, and I quickly looked away, focusing instead on Jack.

“We have a problem,” Jack began, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Ronan’s rogues have been spotted less than a mile from our northern border. They’re moving closer, testing our defenses. This isn’t just a show of force. They’re planning something.”

A ripple of unease swept through the pack. Jack’s gaze swept over us, his authority undeniable. “Patrols will continue as planned. Dax, you’ll take point on the northern border. Alina,” his eyes locked on me, “I want you paired with Kara on the eastern patrol.”

My stomach tightened. The thought of being separated from Dax, even for a few hours, felt unbearable. But I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “Understood.”

As the meeting broke up, I felt a hand on my arm. Turning, I found Dax’s intense gaze boring into mine. “Be careful,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“You too,” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my effort to keep it steady. His touch lingered for a moment, and then he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd dispersing to their posts.

I exhaled a shaky breath and turned toward Kara, who was already waiting by the door. Her sharp eyes assessed me, and a knowing smirk tugged at her lips. “Ready to go?”

I glared at her, though there was no malice in it. “Let’s just get this over with.”

We set out toward the eastern border, the crisp air biting at my skin as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Kara was mercifully quiet, her usual stream of sarcastic comments replaced by a focused tension. The forest was alive with the subtle noises of rustling leaves and distant bird calls, but the unease in my chest drowned out any sense of calm.

Hours passed in relative silence, broken only by brief exchanges as we patrolled our section of the border. My wolf paced restlessly beneath the surface, and my thoughts kept drifting back to Dax—his voice, his touch, the intensity in his eyes when he looked at me. I hated how much I craved him, how much I needed him.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Kara’s sharp whistle snapped me out of my thoughts. “Shift change,” she announced. “Let’s head back.”

Relief flooded through me as we made our way to the rendezvous point. I didn’t want to admit it, but part of me hoped I’d run into Dax before the day was over. The bond was pulling me toward him like a tether, and the ache of his absence was beginning to fray my nerves.

We arrived back at the main house just as dusk was settling over the pack lands. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, mingling with the faint traces of other wolves. Kara peeled off with a quick wave, leaving me alone in the clearing. I was just about to head inside when I caught his scent—strong and unmistakable, like the forest after a storm.

“Alina.”

His voice was soft but commanding, and I turned to find Dax standing a few paces away. The fading light played across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. My heart leapt into my throat as he closed the distance between us.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice low and rough. There was an edge to his tone, a weight that made my chest tighten.

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.”

He led me toward the edge of the clearing, away from prying eyes and ears. When we stopped, he turned to face me fully, his expression raw and unguarded. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching between us like a taut wire.

Finally, he broke it. “I can’t keep pretending, Alina. Not anymore.”

My pulse thundered in my ears as he stepped closer, his hands brushing against mine before he caught them, holding them tightly. “Every time I see you, every moment we’re apart, it’s like a part of me is missing. I thought I could handle it, that I could stay in control, but I can’t.”

His eyes searched mine, and I saw the vulnerability there, the cracks in his usually unshakable demeanor. “I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rough, breathless rush.

My breath hitched, the weight of his confession crashing over me like a wave. The bond between us flared to life, stronger and brighter than ever, and my wolf howled with joy.

“Dax…” My voice was barely a whisper, but the emotion in it was undeniable. Tears blurred my vision as I stepped closer, my hands tightening around his. “I love you too.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, we just stood there, the world around us fading away. Then he cupped my face in his hands, his touch as gentle as it was possessive, and kissed me with a passion that stole the air from my lungs.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the threats looming over the pack, not the guilt or the fear. Just us, bound together by a love that felt as unshakable as the earth beneath our feet.