Trinity couldn't bear to walk in silence anymore, pretending to be in marvel of the trees. Everything was so different now; the towering pines felt less like a wonder and more like the bars of a vast, green cage.
It was as if nothing had changed. Everything still looked and smelled the same. Grayson's wolf remembered every turn of the pack lands with a fierce, instinctive clarity. Every tree he used to climb. Every trail he used to run down. He'd been so young when they left, but the memories—they stayed, etched into his marrow. He still remembered this place well. Grayson wanted to find his old home, but he knew that space was limited in packs. No home would just remain uninhabited; someone else would own it by now, claiming the walls and the history as their own.
Trinity walked beside Grayson, their fingers interlaced in a grip that felt more like a rehearsed performance than a genuine connection. As the dirt path smoothed out and the first wooden storefronts of the town square came into view, they both instinctively slowed their pace. The tension between them remained like a physical weight, but they straightened their shoulders, projecting the image of a contented, newly mated couple for any prying eyes in the pack.
"I haven't really explored the pack," Trinity said, her voice low enough to stay between them. She looked around at the slow-moving morning. It still felt odd to be in a town that lacked the telltale signs of traffic—the rhythmic honking of horns or the biting smell of gasoline. But the pack was devoid of those human identities. Though the territory was large enough to take several hours to explore in its entirety, wolf form eliminated the need for cars. Even bikes weren't common.
"What have you been doing with your time?" Grayson questioned, his eyes remaining fixed forward. He took note of how the passing wolves seemed to shoot dark, distrusting looks toward Trinity. A few of the critical glances landed on him, but they were more wary than outright hostile.
"Whatever the Alpha has commanded," she replied, a trace of bitterness leaking through her tone.
"I saw you and Ryan sometimes when you were in the forest training," Grayson noted, his tone shifting toward a familiar edge. "You looked like you were having fun." He had spent months living in his wolf form, at the edge of losing his sanity, surrendering to his beastly nature—all in hopes of saving his brother. And the two of them were always laughing, as if they were in no danger in the pack. It was a bitter pill to swallow that while his sanity was slipping away, they were enjoying themselves. That life just continued as if there was no pause at all for them.
Trinity stopped, her boots kicking up a small cloud of dust. "You act like we voluntarily returned." She couldn't believe that he would question her about something so obvious. "There were moments... when we were having fun—I, I don't understand what I did that was so wrong. It's like you're holding something against me." Trinity looked up at him, wishing he would just look at her and remember that she wasn't some enemy. She was doing everything she could to protect him, Ryan, and Jess—everyone that she cared about. And the list was becoming long, and it was harder to help, but she was doing her best.
Grayson didn't look at her, but his jaw tightened. "I was inside with you—" Finally looking down at her, his free hand moved so his thumb ran across her lower lip, remembering the taste and the feel of her beneath him. It wasn't as if the desire to fuck her just disappeared; it just always happened at the worst times, and it was always followed by disaster. It was as if bad luck struck every time he let himself cross that line. "—when they took Ryan." The admission was heavy with a guilt he was choosing to share with her rather than carry alone. If he hadn't been distracted by her in that bar, he would have been outside. He would have known the wolves were coming. Dropping his hand, he pulled her along with him.
Trinity's eyebrows shot up, her grip on his hand loosening as the weight of his grudge finally settled on her shoulders. But Grayson didn't let go; he tightened his hold, pulling her along toward the end of the strip where an ice cream cart stood. His touch left its own ghostly weight behind.
His feet carried him on muscle memory alone, easily recounting times long past. The memories of the carefree child easily allowed his feet to lead him to the place he had wanted to visit since returning.
A young woman sat on a stool behind the cart, her tanned skin glowing in the morning light as she read a book. She smelled just as he remembered—like vanilla and sugar swirled together. As they approached, her ears twitched. She looked up, her brown eyes landing on Grayson. There was a long, silent beat of searching—a squint of her eyes as she took in his face, his scent. Her nostrils flared, and she took in his woodsy scent—like old oak and moss. The cloud of years of separation slowly dissipated. Then, the recognition hit her like a physical wave.
"Grey?" A beautiful smile bloomed across her face. Vivian couldn't believe it. He was back. He was here!
Trinity couldn't help the stinging irritation growing inside of her. She watched the two of them, feeling the sudden coldness on her palm where Grayson's hand had been. He hadn't even introduced her. The woman didn't even bat her eyelashes in her direction.
The moment the name left her lips, Grayson's hand slipped away from Trinity's. He stepped forward, a genuine half-smile breaking his stony expression. "It's been a long time, Viv." He was glad that one thing was still exactly the same.
Vivian scrambled around the cart, throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug. "I didn't realize you were back! This is crazy," she said playfully, stepping back to look him over. "You got big and tall!" She laughed, holding on to his biceps as she stared up at him. In the back of her mind, she felt a little disappointed that he wasn't her mate. She almost prayed that she would feel the telltale pull, the tingle over her skin, the electricity—the bond slamming into place between them. "So you've just been a rogue all these years?" But there was nothing. He was just an old friend, and a very welcomed friendly face. She stepped back, letting her hands drop.
"Kind of," Grayson replied, his voice warmer than Trinity had heard it in days. "It's definitely more nomadic than the pack life."
Trinity stood a foot away, her hand feeling suddenly cold where his had been. She opened her mouth to speak, but the two were already deep into a rhythm of shared history, talking about parents and old times.
Trinity watched them, feeling the space between her and Grayson grow with every word they exchanged. She was the forgotten third wheel in a play she didn't have the script for. It was as if she was intruding on a couple, just wishing to be left alone. Feeling the sting of rejection, she no longer wanted to be a spectator. She retreated slowly, fading into the background of the quiet street. Neither Grayson nor Vivian looked her way. To them, she had already disappeared. She turned her back on the cart and walked across the street, her eyes scanning a shop, seeking refuge. She stepped into a quiet clothing boutique.
Inside the shop, the warm atmosphere chilled the moment the woman behind the counter saw Trinity. The shopkeeper's smile died, replaced by a hyper-aware, worried expression; she adjusted a stack of folded shirts with trembling hands. Trinity ignored it, her fingers gliding over the fabrics. She lifted a soft, cream-colored dress, weighing the choice in her hands. In a way, she'd expected to see animal skin skirts and prehistoric clothing, even though the pack dressed regularly. There was just something so primitive that didn't allow your mind to wander to the present.
The bell above the door rang once more, a sharp chime that announced a new patron. But Trinity didn't pay it any attention, placing the dress over her arm, deciding to keep it.
"You're rarely alone," the girl said. She stared at Trinity without remorse. She had spent days following Trinity intermittently, watching her closely. If her father was obsessed with Trinity, this girl wanted to know why. Why was someone so unremarkable such a pain for her larger-than-life father?
Trinity stiffened. She looked toward the shop window. Outside, leaning against a post, was Kale. He wasn't looking at the shop, but as if sensing her gaze, he gave a single, subtle nod. She realized then that no one could get this close to her if they were truly dangerous; Kale wouldn't allow it.
Her shoulders relaxed as she acknowledged the stranger. She turned back to see a girl with blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. She radiated a raw, regal power that seemed to vibrate off her skin, making the air in the small boutique feel heavy. Trinity didn't recognize her, but she knew that aura—this was one of the Alpha's daughters. The real question was which one.
"I don't think we've met," Trinity said, turning back to the aisle of dresses.
The girl began to wander the shop alongside Trinity. While Trinity examined the dresses, the girl reached out to a display of expensive leather purses. As she touched one, her hand underwent a partial shift—nails lengthening into jagged claws. She dug them into the fine leather, dragging them down in a slow, destructive caress that made the material moan. The shopkeeper watched the damage, her face pale, but she said nothing, keeping her neck bowed in submission. There was nothing she could do.
Trinity's eyes flickered to the ruined bags, her gaze flicking between the girl and the shopkeeper. Neither seemed to acknowledge the destruction.
"Cheap materials," the girl said, the corner of her lip quirking upwards ever so slightly.
Trinity noted how her hair was messy and her clothes seemed disheveled. She couldn't imagine an elite of the pack looking so barbaric. All of them seemed to love to project the illusion of class and elegance.
"Do you ever feel smothered? The way they're always watching you!" The girl always felt suffocated. The eyes of the pack—they never weren't on her. Her father's eyes, the judgmental depths that always seemed to shine with dissatisfaction—it was a constant she had never quite become comfortable with. Her hand subconsciously reached for her other arm, itching vigorously against the skin. Every time she thought of the fucking eyes that followed her, it made her skin crawl and itch in a way that felt so consuming.
Trinity knew exactly what she meant. Once she left her house, it was as if she was alone, but constantly monitored. It was rare to feel relaxed, peaceful, even, not when the microscope was pointing directly at you. "The eyes aren't the problem," Trinity finally spoke. "Why would Alpha Adrian's daughter speak to me?"
No matter what, people always thought of her as the Alpha's daughter. No matter the situation, wolves always mentioned her bloodline; it was an unescapable fact. "You're fascinating, even to my father," she said, her voice carrying a soul-crushing honesty that felt worlds away from Luca's boisterous, arrogant charm.
"I'm a toy to someone like your father." It was laughable to think that Alpha Adrian was fascinated. He was swatting at a mouse, and she was caught in the whirlwind.
"We're daughters of power. We were birthed to be toys." The girl's eyes turned black as she growled, a low, guttural vibration. In the next moment, her eyes were crystal blue again.
Trinity noted how different she was from her brother; where Luca was loud and "kind" in a popular way, this girl felt heavy with reality. She was young, younger than Trinity, but there was this weight to her—a presence that spoke of experience.
"You collect broken things!" It wasn't a question but a statement. The girl had seen it. Trinity wasn't like the other elites; she enjoyed the broken, she didn't mind only being able to keep a small shard of the greater whole.
Placing another dress over her arm, Trinity was becoming curious where this was all headed. The girl didn't seem threatening. Just sad. Lost, even.
"And how would you know that?" Trinity asked, placing a dress back on the rack.
Meeting Trinity's blue eyes, the girl decided to ignore her question. No one liked to know that they were being watched. "Don't you normally train at this time?"
"Mated she-wolves aren't allowed to train with the warriors. So no." Trinity's eyes drifted back to the shop window again, wondering if Grayson would step into the store, finally noticing that she wasn't there anymore. Considering they were playing a role, he could pretend to be concerned, or even actually be concerned.
"Did you like it? The training? Getting stronger?" Unlike Trinity, when she comes of age, she'll never be allowed to join the Warriors, even for a short amount of time until she's mated. Alpha's daughters never trained. They were kept weak, shaped to be docile wives.
Trinity hesitated. She looked at the girl, seeing the intersection of immense strength and total fragmentation. With her Alpha blood coursing through her system, it was undeniable that the girl was strong, but she wore her vulnerability like a second skin. "Yeah," Trinity admitted. "I did."
"I—I want to bring you somewhere!" the girl said, marching toward the door, pausing briefly to look at Trinity over her shoulder.
The girl walked out. Trinity stood among the silent racks for a long moment, weighing the risk. Walking over to the cashier, Trinity dropped her items on the counter. "Can you send these items to the Beta's house? My father, Boris Carter—he'll pay for it."
The scared cashier nodded her head as her eyes darted around, feeling on edge now that it was just the two of them. Defectives were dangerous creatures, and she didn't want to be the next one killed. "Thank you."
Finally, she allowed her curiosity to win. She followed. Her eyes met Kale as she left the store. He subtly inclined his head to the left, indicating which way to go. She was able to easily catch up with the girl.
They walked until they reached a watering hole—a stunning, bottomless turquoise pool fed by a hidden spring. The woods here were unnervingly silent, the kind of stillness that made one's own heartbeat sound loud. The trees weren't as tall, but the foliage was dense—a natural sound barrier casting the small oasis into its own cocoon of reverence. The sun's warm rays beat down, cutting through the trees, feeling as if it was illuminating the water, welcoming its visitors.
The girl stripped down to her underwear before diving into the water, resurfacing to float on her back, eyes closed, the smallest of smiles playing on her lips. It was the only time Trinity found that she didn't seem as sharp. Her edges were softened in this moment.
Stripping off her own clothes, Trinity waded in, the warmth of the water surprising her against her skin.
"It's so quiet," Trinity whispered, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and relief. "I... I like it." She rarely got to experience this level of serenity. Since she arrived at the pack, every moment was crowded and loud. This was entirely different.
"You should keep training," the girl said, floating on her back. "There's a Warrior Exam on September 2nd. The pack won't train you because you're mated, but the exam is a loophole. Anyone can join."
Trinity closed her eyes, letting the warmth soak into her skin. "Why do you care? I still don't understand why you're talking to me."
"I'm broken. And you like broken things," she said. She wasn't like the other elites. She wasn't snobbish or standoffish. She was warm, kind, and unexpectedly open. The girl wasn't sure if she hadn't been rejected, if she would have ever spoken to Trinity, or if she would have seen her as anything other than an obstacle in her father's way.
"I don't collect broken things," Trinity noted, remembering the rumors of the warriors being sent out to find the Alpha's child. "You're missing, right? The daughter the Alpha can't find."
Kale did his best to ignore the two girls, easily making out every word of their conversation. He paced along the ridge, keeping his back to the two young women. His orders were clear from the Beta: protect Trinity, stay by her side. As for Missy, he wasn't a part of the team to find her.
"I want to stay lost. I don't need my father in my head right now." She couldn't help scratching at her arms as she thought of her father, anxiety and dread building up inside of her, trying to chase away the relaxation she was desperate to find.
"What's your name?" Trinity asked, noticing the way she was scratching at herself again. She wanted to distract her. "You look like him." She was a spitting image of the Alpha.
"Missy," she replied. "The oldest daughter."
Kale's ears perked once again as he heard footfalls in the distance. Frowning, he wondered who was out in this part of the forest at this time of day. It was far too early for any parties or picnics.
Silence was shattered by a sharp whistle from the ridge. Trinity looked up to see Simon and Aram. Simon looked uncomfortable, his eyes darting toward Kale, who stood further back on the ridge with his back turned, giving the girls an illusion of privacy. Even with the newcomers, he still didn't shatter the illusion.
Aram leaned over and whispered something into Simon's ear. Simon's face paled, his eyes darting between the girls and Kale. He reached for Aram's arm, but it was too late. Without warning, Aram surged forward, leaping from the ridge and hitting the water with a violent splash that shattered the pool's serenity. He surfaced inches from Trinity.
Aram had set his sights on Trinity. The Alpha had promised her to him. She was meant to be his prize. He wasn't willing to let go so easily. Women were all the same, and all of them could easily be swayed.
Before he could react, before he even spoke a word or reached out towards her, Missy moved.
In a blur, Missy lunged, her legs locking around Aram's waist from behind. Her face shifted partially as she sank her canines deep into the side of his neck. Her blue eyes were black, a savage edge to her movement. Aram screamed, a sound of pure horror, as he ripped her off and threw her away.
On the ridge, Simon didn't wait. Seeing the blood and the madness in Missy's eyes, he turned and bolted into the trees. He didn't want to be involved in anything this chaotic; it wouldn't serve his family well.
Kale was already moving. The moment he smelled blood, his instincts kicked in, and what little privacy he had offered evaporated. Diving into the water, he grabbed Trinity and Missy, hauling them toward the shore, ignoring the stunned Aram for the moment.
"Get Grayson. Then go home!" Kale ordered Trinity, his eyes flashing black for a moment before returning to their brown pools. His grip tightening on Missy's arm. "Aram, follow."
Aram stumbled out of the water, clutching his neck as he stared at the fresh blood seeping through his fingers as he pressed his hand to his throat. The mate bond beginning to take form. He could feel the pull towards Missy beginning to form, the tether taking shape—the bond linking them for eternity.
"You had to do this while I was here!" Kale growled with irritation, pulling at Missy with more force than what was considered appropriate, giving her status.
Missy rolled her eyes as the smile on her lips widened. She tried to turn back to face Trinity. Kale pulled on her arm with more force, keeping her moving. But she wasn't done; she had one last thing to say.
"Don't listen to them!" Missy yelled back at Trinity. "Do whatever the fuck you want! You're allowed!"
Author's note:
This is a long chapter.