Chapter 8
Rawson must’ve sensed my hesitation, because he tugged gently at my sleeve, his fingertips warm
and familiar.
I shot him a reassuring smile. “I’m good.”
But when I turned to Orion, the smile vanished. “Let’s be real–you and Melody are perfect for each other. Both selfish, both totally clueless. Why don’t you wait for her to get out of jail, seal the mate
bond, and lock it down for life? Save the rest of us the trouble.”
Orion’s head snapped up, the last flicker of hope in his eyes snuffed out. His lips moved, but no
words came just a hollow, broken stare.
For a split second, I saw the kid he used to be, crying in the snow after being stolen. Back then, I’d
shared my roasted meat with him. Not this time.
I grabbed Rawson’s hand and strode into the cabin, Orion’s stifled sobs trailing behind us like a
wounded lone wolf.
Inside, my parents lit up the second they saw Rawson.
Mom grabbed his hand, bombarding him with questions, while Dad bolted to the cellar to dig out his prized moonshine. Rawson was practically family–they’d watched him grow up, treating him
like their own son.
Our families had always been tight. Growing up, I spent so much time at their place, I probably
scarfed down more dinners there than at home.
But after I bonded with Orion, Rawson started coming around less. Mom would grumble about it, and he’d always brush it off with “Council’s keeping me busy.”
Now, I wondered if he’d just been trying to spare me the awkwardness.
Mid–conversation, a knock at the door interrupted us. I opened it to find Rawson’s mother standing there, a basket of fresh–baked honey cakes in hand.
Her eyes sparkled when she saw me. “My little Aurora, you’re finally back!” she said, pulling me
into a bear hug that hadn’t lost its strength since I was a kid.
“Come in!” I tugged her inside. “Rawson’s here too.”
“Perfect timing!” Amy clapped her hands. “Tonight, we’re grilling in the forest. I’m making Jack
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bring out last year’s venison jerky!”
Mom chimed in, and the two of them scurried off to the kitchen, chattering about ingredients like
giddy teenagers.
Watching the familiar chaos unfold, my throat tightened. I’d spent so many years wrapped up in
Orion, I’d let these precious bonds with family and friends slip through my fingers.
A week later, Mom pulled me aside, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Amy’s got an idea… She
thinks you and Rawson should give it a shot.”
My wooden spoon clattered into the pot. “Are they nuts? Rawson’s always seen me as his little
sister!”
Mom smirked, tapping my forehead. “Oh, honey. Who do you think ran to Orion’s place in the
middle of the night to chew him out when he made you cry? Or quietly sent moonroot herbs to keep you safe when you were pregnant?”
She paused, her voice softening. “Rawson’s a deep one, keeps it all locked up. He said he’d wait
until you were ready–really ready–before saying anything.”
I stood there, stunned, as forgotten moments flooded back. When I was a kid getting picked on by
wolf pups, it was Rawson who stepped in front, taking bites without flinching.
When Orion and I fought, it was Rawson who patched me up, always with crushed herbs ready to go.
Even now, with Melody’s trial, he’d dropped urgent Council business to gather evidence, his eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights.
His kindness had been there all along, woven into the years, but I’d been too blinded by Orion’s flashy charm to see it.
Years later, Rawson and I sealed our mate bond on the pack’s sacred mountain. As he marked the back of my neck, the weight in his eyes made my own sting with tears.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I murmured, nestled in his arms, my fingers tracing the clan tattoo on his chest–identical to the one on my neck from our coming–of–age ceremony.
He tightened his hold, his voice low and steady. “Wanted to wait until I was strong enough to protect you properly.”
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Back then, he’d just joined the Council, still finding his footing, while Orion was the pack’s golden boy, untouchable. “Never thought you’d fall for someone else first,” he added, his eyes tinged red, like cedarwood under moonlight.
It hit me then: that quiet admiration I’d buried as a kid wasn’t one–sided.
He was too steady, and I was too scared, swept away by Orion’s reckless storm.
Orion and Rawson were opposites–two kinds of men.
Orion was a wildfire, blazing hot but destructive. He chased Melody for three years, even knowing she was his stepfather’s daughter, even though pack law forbade their bond. When the Council stepped in and Melody married some rich guy from another pack, he spiraled.
But he never let her go. One look from her, and he’d come running like a loyal dog, claiming he “just felt sorry for her.” He’d ditch his own mate–me–without a second thought.
I used to think that was love. But when he abandoned our pup to “help” her, I saw it for what it was: a weak excuse, a refusal to admit he was just her puppet.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too late.
Rawson’s warmth radiated through his fur, solid as the sacred mountain itself. In the distance, the laughter of pack pups echoed, moonlight spilling through the cabin’s windows, casting dappled
shadows on the floor.
I knew then I’d finally found my place. The wasted years, the tears–they were behind me.
And this man,
years to come.
who’d tucked his gentleness away for a lifetime, would walk with me through all the
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