Chapter 11

Jason's swamped with military duties, but he carves out time for me every day. At first, it's just to show me around the camp, teaching me about frontier herbs—how to spot them, how to use them if I get hurt or sick. I soak it all in, focused, but sometimes I catch him watching me, his gaze steady and intense. When I look back, he quickly turns away.

He's quiet, not much for words, but he's thoughtful in ways I didn't expect. I mentioned liking gardenias once, and the next day, a few hardy frontier varieties show up in the courtyard. At night, when the wind howls and I'm uneasy in the dark, he lights a lantern outside my room, its soft glow filtering through the window, easing me into sleep.

Slowly, I let my guard down and start talking to him. "Back in Belmor Town, spring brings flower festivals," I say one evening, cradling a cup of hot tea. "She-wolves wear bright dresses, wolves recite poetry, and it's this big, lively affair."

Jason sits across from me, polishing his sword. He glances up. "No flower festivals here, but we've got the Bonfire Feast."

"Bonfire Feast?" I ask, curious.

"Yeah." His voice is low, rough. "It's a good time."

I smile. "Can I check it out this year?"

His fingers pause on the blade, eyes lingering on my smile. "Of course."

The next day, I get the urge to visit the market. With my maid Talia, I wander the stalls, picking out fabrics and ingredients.

"Look at this, Leah," Talia says, holding up a bolt of indigo cotton. "Perfect for a tunic for the general."

I run my hand over it—coarser than Belmor Town's silks but sturdy, practical. I think of Jason's worn-out clothes and nod. "Wrap it up."

As I pay, a commotion stirs behind me. "Leah!"

That voice hits like a thunderclap. I freeze, turning slowly. Shawn stands in the street, clad in moon-white robes, his eyes burning with a storm of emotions.

He strides toward me. "It's been long enough. You're still not coming back with me?"

The market crowd gathers, eyeing the striking wolf and she-wolf. I step back. "I told you, Shawn. I'm not going back."

He grabs my wrist. "I know you're mad, but come home, and you'll still be the lady of Yates Den. Quinn can be a lesser mate."

"Let go!" I struggle, but his grip's too strong.

Whispers ripple through the crowd, but no one steps in. "Shawn, have some respect," I say, voice shaking. "I'm bound to another."

"You were supposed to be mine!" he snaps. "Jason's just some roughneck soldier. He doesn't deserve you."

His words ignite the frontier folk. An old sheep-meat vendor steps forward. "Jason protects our pack! Who are you to badmouth him?"

Shawn glares, and the old wolf shrinks back but holds his ground. I take a deep breath, raising my voice. "Shawn, you're manhandling a bound she-wolf in public. You want that getting around?"

The crowd explodes like oil on a flame. "This is how Belmor Town's fancy wolves act?" "Thinks he can do whatever 'cause he's some hotshot!" "Shameless!"

Shawn's face darkens, but his grip tightens. "I don't care! You're coming with me!"

"Let her go!" I cry. "Help!"

"Shout all you want," he sneers. "Who in this backwater dares touch me?"

"I do." A voice, sharp as a blade, cuts through the air.

The crowd parts, and Jason strides forward in black battle gear, his sword clinking at his side. Shawn's eyes narrow, his hand loosening.

I pull free, stepping to Jason's side, rubbing my reddened wrist.

"Jason," Shawn says, straightening to keep his noble air. "I'm here for my she-wolf."

Jason doesn't answer right away. He turns to me, voice low. "You hurt?"

The simple question makes my nose sting. I shake my head. "I'm fine."

He faces Shawn, eyes like frost. "What's your game, harassing my mate in the street?"

Shawn scoffs. "You're the one who stole her—"

"Enough." Jason cuts him off. "She's my lawfully bound mate, decreed by the Alpha. What's this about stealing?"

Shawn's face twists, red and white. Jason steps forward, shielding me completely. "If you've got no business here, leave the frontier. Or I'll have you hauled back to Belmor Town for disturbing a soldier's mate."

Tension crackles. Shawn's men rush up. "Boss, let's not mess with the local alpha. We should go."

Shawn shakes them off, staring at me. "One day, I'll bring you back to Yates Den myself."