C5

Evelyn Carter POV

"Ian, are you a healer at the Pinebrook Medical Center now?" I look down at my hands, quickly grabbing my scattered papers from the stone floor while forcing a small smile.

Ian Philips lets out a low, warm chuckle that makes my chest tighten, reaching out to ruffle my hair just like he did when we were kids in Pine Hollow Village. "You are still as clumsy as a newborn pup, Evelyn. How many winters has it been now?"

My chest swells, my dark skin burning with a sudden flush under his gaze. "I am twenty cycles old now, Ian."

He looks toward the end of the stone corridor, his smile softening. "What brings a village girl all the way up to the high pack labs?"

"My friend Chloe is inside, speaking with her cousin about some pack remedies," I say, pointing toward the heavy oak door of the consultation room.

Ian checks the copper watch on his wrist, the noon sun casting long shadows through the narrow valley windows. "The high-ridge hunters are on their lunch break, so the halls are clear. Your friend will be trapped in there for a while. Why don't you join me at the tavern down the track? My treat."

I bite my lip, my mind racing. I turn back to the wooden door, giving it a quick tap before calling out to Chloe. "I am stepping out for a bit!"

Ian moves ahead with a confident stride, and I follow him quietly through the stone archways. My heart has belonged to this human boy since I was sixteen winters old. My mother Margaret had collapsed near the village square during a harsh frost, and Ian was the only one who ran to help. He lifted her small, frail body, carried her three miles to the nearest shelter, and stayed by my side all night telling me about his studies in medicine. That was the exact moment I decided to learn the healing arts, just so I could walk the same mountain paths he did. But even after I made it to the center, I never had the courage to seek him out. The last time he spoke to me was two winters ago, just to give me a pouch of dried mountain herbs and tell me to keep fighting.

He leads me into a small timber tavern at the edge of the village, pulling back his white linen medic coat to drape it over a bench. Without the heavy cloth, his lean shoulders look striking against the firelight. He flips through the parchment menu. "I remember your sweet tooth, Evelyn. You still favor honey cakes and mountain berries, right?"

"Always," I whisper, my throat closing up because it has been so damn long since I sat across from him.

Suddenly, the black stone transmitter in my skirt pocket vibrates hard, its dark magic humming against my thigh. I offer an apology to Ian and step back toward the timber pillar to activate the stone.

"Where the fuck are you hiding your scent, human?" Alaric's deep, low growl vibrates through the stone, instantly making my pulse jump.

I press my back against the wood, my brow furrowing. "Who is speaking?"

"Your Alpha. Your husband," Alaric snaps, his voice completely freezing the heat in my veins. "Get your plus-size hips back to Wolfhart Moon Manor for the noon meal. Now."

"How did you even track this frequency?" I whisper, looking back at Ian, who is carefully watching me from the table. "Can you give me a few moments? I just sat down with an old friend."

The line goes entirely silent for three heavy heartbeats. "Ten minutes, Evelyn. If you are not at the pack gates by then, I send Owen to drag you back by your hair."

"Fine," I snap, cutting the connection.

"A lover from the northern borders?" Ian asks with a teasing grin when I slide back onto the bench.

"No, he is not a boyfriend," I murmur, scratching the back of my neck sheepishly, my dark face turning hot. "He is my master. My husband."

Ian's posture goes completely rigid, the easy smile dying on his lips. A moment later, he forces a tight laugh, but the warmth never reaches his eyes. "You took a mate? When did the pack ritual happen?"

"Yesterday," I whisper, my voice cracking.

His eyes turn incredibly dark, a shadow passing over his face as he clears his throat. "I didn't even bring a silver token or a wedding gift to the altar for you. I guess this tavern meal will have to serve as your blessing, then." He turns to hail the tavern maid.

"No, it is fine," I say, reaching across the table to stop his hand. "I will just finish this wildberry juice. My alpha expects me at the high manor for the noon feast."

Ian’s face turns pale as ash. He stares at me in absolute silence before letting out a ragged sigh. "How many seasons have you been tracking his scent?"

How long have I known the monster? I count the hours in my head. We have been bound for exactly twenty-six hours. I cannot let a human healer know I sold my womb to a cursed werewolf for a pouch of medicine.

"A few months," I lie, looking down at the wooden table.

He forces another stiff smile. "That is a very short hunt, Evelyn. Was it a true blood-match at first sight?"

I take a frantic gulp of my juice to hide the guilt eating at my stomach. "Yes. A blood-match at first sight."

The moment the sweet liquid coats my lips, my mind flashes back to the slick, heavy heat of our bedroom last night. Alaric’s mouth had felt so firm, so violently hot when he dragged his tongue across mine, pinning my small four-foot-two frame deep into the dark furs until my entire body shook. My cheeks turn a burning crimson just thinking about it.

From across the table, Ian watches my face change, thinking my blush belongs to a human girl deeply in love with her new master. His skin turns even whiter.

"Evelyn!" Chloe barks, bursting through the tavern door and shattering the heavy silence between us. "The Wolfhart Pack Guard has a carriage idling right by the main track. Bryce says your ten minutes are dead. Are you going to spend the whole day flirting with the village boys?"

I check the iron dial on the wall. The ten minutes Alaric gave me are gone. I scramble to my feet, grabbing my leather bag and looking at Ian with pure regret. "Let us share stories another time, Ian. Safe paths."

He gives a slow, heavy nod. "Keep your scent safe, Evelyn."

He sits by the window, his jaw tight as he watches Chloe yank my arm and pull me into the black carriage with the silver Wolfhart crest emblazoned on the wood. A bitter, broken smile touches his lips as the wheels churn up the mud. He thinks I have climbed into a golden cage of happiness.

"Evelyn, I had my cousin brew this virility oil for your alpha's hidden curse!" Chloe screams the moment the carriage door slams shut, shoving three unlabelled clay jars deep into my leather satchel. "High-born wolves who lose their eyes or their limbs always suffer from deep shame between their thighs. If you tell Alaric these are for his manhood, his wolf will think you are calling him a weak cur and he will rip your throat out. Just tell him they are strength elixirs for his health! I scraped off all the medical seals. The dosage and the lunar hours are written on this parchment!"

"Thank you, Chloe," I sigh, my head throbbing from the sudden separation from Ian. I don't even bother looking at the jars as I shove them to the bottom of my bag.

Bryce drops Chloe off at the border of Pine Hollow Village and drives the horses hard up the rocky trail toward Wolfhart Moon Manor.

When I walk into the massive dining hall, the blindfolded alpha is sitting completely alone at the head of the oak table. The harsh noon sun strikes his white complexion, making the single red cufflink on his gloved hand glisten like a drop of fresh blood. The massive shadow he casts across the stone floor looks impossibly lonely.

I wash the dirt from my hands at the basin and hurry to the table, my jaw dropping when I see the sheer mountain of food laid out across the platters. Roast stag, heavy breads, winter fruits, and sweet creams cover every inch of the wood. "Are the high elders of the Wolfhart Alpha Council joining us for a war meeting?"

"No," the blind monster rumbles, his gloved fingers tapping against a silver chalice. "It is only the two of us."

I sink into my chair, looking at the feast in disbelief. "We cannot consume half of this meat before it rots."

"Undoubtedly," Alaric says, slowly picking up a heavy silver fork. "But I ordered Edith to double the slaughter anyway."

"Why would you waste pack resources like that?"

His massive hand freezes in the air. A cold, mocking smile spreads across his lips as he tilts his black silk blindfold toward my face. "Just a precaution, little bird. I wouldn't want the valley scouts reporting that the lord of Moonshadow Valley is starving his new human mate, especially when she is seen gorging herself with another male in a village tavern the very morning after our ritual."

The breath dies in my throat. I sit completely frozen. "You... you had your guards tracking my scent inside the tavern?"

He goes back to cutting his meat with terrifying precision, his voice smooth and nonchalant. "It seems the whispers are true, then. My Luna prefers the company of common human dirt."

My blood boils. He thinks I am stupid. I can see the brutal traps hidden behind every single word rolling out of his mouth, and I loathe it when wolves play games with their food. I take a deep breath, my wide chest rising hard against my shirt. "I don't mean that the meat in this manor is foul, Alaric, and I am not hiding from your table. I simply crossed paths with someone from my childhood while collecting Margaret's medicine at the center."

He raises a thick, pale eyebrow, his cigarette smoke curling around his face. "And what exactly were you collecting for your mother's blood?"

I reach deep into my leather bag, yank out the unlabelled clay jars Chloe gave me, and slam them down onto the oak table right in front of his plate. "I brought back strength elixirs for your body, Alpha, since your wolf seemed too weak to finish what you started last night."