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Damon's finger was still on my collarbone when Cade's hand locked around his wrist.
"Touch her again," Cade said, voice flat, "and I'll break every bone in your hand."
I didn't move. Couldn't. The mark on my neck was still burning, fresh and raw, and now Damon's eyes were locked on the birthmark just above my collarbone. The thornwood sigil. Small, faint, shaped like a tangle of briars. Most people wouldn't even notice it. But Damon wasn't most people.
He pulled his hand back slow, like he was making a point. "That's a Thornwood mark."
"So?" Cade didn't let go of his wrist.
"So Thornwood's been dead for six years." Damon's gaze slid to me, cold and sharp. "Which makes me wonder where you found this one."
My wolf stirred, hackles up, but I shoved her down. Not now. Not here. There were still a dozen wolves standing around us, watching, waiting to see what their new luna would do.
I lifted my chin. Looked Damon dead in the eye. "You calling your alpha a liar?"
That got a ripple of noise from the crowd. A few low growls. Challenging a beta was one thing. Challenging an alpha's claim in front of the whole pack was something else.
Damon's jaw tightened. He didn't answer me. He looked at Cade instead. "You know what she is."
"I know she's mine." Cade's tone didn't change. "That's all you need to know."
For a second I thought Damon was going to push it. His wolf was right there, burning in his eyes, and mine was clawing at my ribs, begging me to shift, to fight, to run. But then he stepped back. Gave Cade a look I couldn't read.
"Your call, alpha." He turned and walked off, and the rest of the crowd started to scatter.
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
Cade's hand was still on my shoulder. Warm. Steady. The bond hummed between us, a low current under my skin, and I hated how much I wanted to lean into it.
Into him.
I pulled away. "I can handle Damon."
"Not if he figures out who you are." Cade's eyes were dark, unreadable. "He's not stupid, Sienna. That mark—"
"Is none of his business." I crossed my arms, tried to ignore the way my wolf was still buzzing, still reaching for him. "I didn't blow my cover for six years just to let your beta ruin it now."
Cade stared at me for a long moment. Then he stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him, smell the wood smoke and iron still clinging to his skin from the Rite.
"You think I don't know what you're doing?" His voice dropped, quiet enough that no one else would hear. "You think I can't feel it? You're using the bond. Playing luna. Buying time."
My heart kicked. He wasn't wrong. But I wasn't about to admit it.
"And you're keeping me alive because you want to figure out what I'm hiding." I met his gaze, didn't blink. "So I guess we're both using each other."
His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. "Guess so."
He turned and walked toward the main hall, and after a second I followed. What else was I supposed to do? I was his luna now. Marked. Bound. If I ran, the bond would drag me back. If I stayed in the omega quarters, someone would notice. So I followed him up the stone steps, through the heavy oak doors, into the pack house I'd been scrubbing floors in for six years.
Only this time I wasn't going to the basement.
Cade led me upstairs, down a hall I'd only ever seen from a distance, and stopped in front of a door at the end. His room. Of course.
He pushed it open. "You'll stay here."
I didn't move. "With you."
"You're my mate. Where else would you stay?"
"I don't know. Somewhere I can sleep without worrying you'll snap my neck in the middle of the night."
He looked at me, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then he stepped inside and held the door open. "If I wanted you dead, Sienna, I wouldn't wait till you were asleep."
Great. Comforting.
I walked in.
The room was bigger than any space I'd been allowed in six years. Big bed, dark wood furniture, a fireplace that was still smoldering. It smelled like him. That same smoke and iron and something else, something wilder. My wolf purred. I told her to shut up.
Cade closed the door behind me. Locked it. I tensed, but he just walked past me to the far side of the room and started pulling off his shirt.
"What are you doing?"
"Changing." He didn't look at me. "Unless you want me to sleep in blood-soaked clothes."
I turned around. Stared at the door. My pulse was hammering and I didn't know why. This was fine. I'd been around half-naked wolves before. I'd shifted in front of entire packs. This was nothing.
Except the bond was still humming, still pulling, and every breath I took was full of his scent.
"You can look," he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'm not shy."
"I'm good."
I heard him laugh, low and quiet, and then the bed creaked. A minute later he said, "All clear."
I turned back around. He was sitting on the edge of the bed in clean clothes, forearms resting on his knees, watching me like I was a puzzle he couldn't figure out.
"You're scared," he said.
I opened my mouth to tell him he was full of shit, but my wolf whined, and the lie stuck in my throat.
"Not of you," I said finally.
"Then what?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't. Because the truth was worse than anything I could make up.
I was scared of the bond. Of how easy it would be to let it take over. To stop pretending. To let him in.
Cade stood and crossed the room, stopped right in front of me. Close enough to touch. My wolf surged, and before I could stop myself I breathed in, just once, and the scent of him hit me like a drug. Smoke and cedar and something warm, something mine.
My wolf went quiet. Just like that. The panic, the rage, the six years of sharpened-edge survival instinct—all of it smoothed out, just from one breath.
I stumbled back. Hit the wall.
Cade caught my arm. "Sienna—"
"Don't." My voice came out rough. "Don't touch me."
He let go, but he didn't step back. "The bond's stronger now. You're going to feel it more."
"I don't want to feel it."
"Too bad." His eyes were gold at the edges, his wolf rising. "You took my mark. You're mine now. And I protect what's mine."
I shoved past him, crossed to the far side of the room, put as much distance between us as I could. My hands were shaking. I clenched them into fists.
He was right. The bond was stronger. I could feel it like a second heartbeat, steady and persistent, pulling me back toward him. And the worst part was my wolf wanted it. She wanted him. Wanted to curl up against his side and let him keep us safe.
But I couldn't. I wouldn't.
Because the man I was bound to was the son of the monster who murdered my father.
I took a breath. Steadied myself. Then I looked down at the clothes I was still wearing—the same rough omega dress I'd had on during the Rite, now streaked with dirt and blood.
"I need to change," I said.
Cade nodded toward a dresser. "Bottom drawer. Should be something that fits."
I pulled it open. Found a stack of clean shirts, soft and worn. I grabbed one and turned toward the adjoining bathroom, but something caught my eye. A loose button on the floor, half-hidden under the edge of the dresser.
I picked it up. Turned it over.
There was a seam along the back, barely visible. I dug my nail in and pried it open.
A tiny slip of paper fell out.
I unfolded it.
Five words, written in handwriting I hadn't seen in six years.
*Thornwood wasn't wiped out. Meet me alone.*