The walk to the River Pine Pack house was a blur of discomfort for Elara. Her knee throbbed, but it was the silent tension radiating from Maddox that truly weighed on her. He walked a few paces ahead, his powerful frame radiating a cold indifference that contradicted the undeniable pull between them. Lyra, her wolf, whimpered at the emotional distance, even as she thrilled at the Alpha's close proximity.
They emerged from the deep forest into a clearing, and Elara gasped. The River Pine Pack was nestled beside a wide, rushing river, its banks lined with ancient, towering pines. The houses were sturdy and well-maintained, exuding a sense of peace and prosperity. It was everything Moonshadows wasn't. Wolves milled about, some shifting back to human form as they spotted their Alpha, their expressions a mixture of respect and curiosity as their gazes landed on Elara.
Maddox, however, offered no introductions. He simply led her directly to a large, welcoming building that smelled faintly of antiseptic and herbs. "Infirmary," he stated, pushing open the door.
Inside, a kind-faced woman with warm brown eyes, clearly the Pack Healer, looked up from a cluster of dried herbs. Her eyes widened as she took in Elara, then shifted to Maddox, a knowing spark in their depths. "Alpha Maddox," she greeted, a slight smile playing on her lips. "And who is this?"
"Elara," Maddox replied curtly, his tone doing little to soften the revelation. "She's injured. Rogues." He didn't mention the word 'mate,' but the Healer's gaze lingered on Elara with an understanding that made Elara's cheeks flush. The scent of fated mates, it seemed, was not something easily hidden.
The Healer, whose name Elara soon learned was Maeve, gently tended to her scraped knee, her touch surprisingly comforting. "A brave girl, facing rogues alone," Maeve murmured, her eyes kind. "You're safe now, child."
Maddox stood by the door, his arms crossed, a formidable sentinel. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, a fact that twisted a knot in Elara's stomach. This was her fated mate, the one the Moon Goddess supposedly chose for her, and he seemed to resent her very presence. The rejection, so familiar from her past, settled heavy on her shoulders. Lyra recoiled, whimpering softly.
Later, settled in a small, cozy guest room Maeve had prepared, Elara stared out the window at the unfamiliar landscape. She was safe, for now. But Thorne would be looking. He wouldn't let her go so easily, not after the shame she'd brought upon him by simply running away. She was a possession he'd lost, and he would reclaim her, if only to prove he could.
A knock on the door jolted her. It was Maddox. He stepped in, his expression unreadable. "Maeve says your knee is a minor scrape. You'll be fine." His gaze swept over her, lingered for a moment on her face, then quickly shifted away. "I… I need to speak with you. Alone."
He led her to a small study, filled with books and maps. The air was thick with unspoken tension. "Elara," he began, his voice flat, "I'm sure you felt it. The bond. I did too. But this is… inconvenient. My pack is my priority. A mate wasn't in my plans." His words were a punch to her gut, reaffirming her deepest fears of being unwanted. "I will ensure your safety here," he continued, "but you need to understand that this bond… it changes nothing about my focus."
Elara's chin lifted, a spark of her inherent resilience pushing through the hurt. "I understand, Alpha," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I never asked for this either. I only asked for freedom." A small, silent plea to the Moon Goddess left her lips, hoping for guidance. She didn't know what her special ability was, but she knew, deep down, that she wouldn't be a burden to anyone ever again.