A Surprise Visit

Rafe

She didn’t trust me a single inch. Her muscles remained locked tight beneath my hands, a clear physical barrier she threw up to protect herself. Every flinch, every rigid breath she took only deepened the primal need inside me to hunt down whoever had ruined her life. Someone in the Moonscar pack had framed a child for murder, tossing her into a life of misery and abuse. I wanted to know every dirty detail. I wanted to uncover the truth and punish the liars.

While Vesper had checked her over in the medical wing earlier, I had made a quick call to my Beta, Garek. I needed him to watch the Moonscar pack from the shadows, searching for any cracks in their facade. When I asked what he found, his answer frustrated me. He found nothing out of place. Their absolute anonymity gnawed at me. A werewolf pack living less than fifty miles away from my borders, yet invisible to the supernatural world until Brant knocked on my door? It made zero sense. I ordered Garek to head back to the estate. Tonight was a full moon. We had a pack run to lead, and my Beta needed to be here for it.

I brought my focus back to the shivering woman standing in front of me in my office. Malia hadn't cracked a single smile since stepping onto my territory. Her strange scent hadn't shifted to show even a hint of comfort. As I rubbed the healing cream into the brutal gash on her stomach, she held her breath. Her eyes darted around my office, tracking the shadows, finding anything else to look at to avoid meeting my gaze.

"Are you afraid of me?" I asked directly, letting the question hang in the heavy air.

She paused, biting hard on the inside of her cheek. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the oversized fabric. "Everyone is," she muttered, her voice breathless and trembling.

I raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully.

"You have the biggest pack in the state," she continued, the words tumbling out as if she couldn't stop them. "You've gone to war and absorbed other packs. You have killed multiple Alphas who stood in your way. People beg for your help, and you never ask for theirs in return. It would be stupid if I didn't fear you."

A slow smile formed on my lips. My wolf, Rokar, puffed his chest with immense pride, preening at her words. We had worked relentlessly to build this ruthless reputation with blood and bone. But I needed her to understand the stark difference between my enemies and her.

"That's not what I meant," I said, keeping my tone steady and low. "I know my position in the world. I'm talking about you. Are you, Malia, afraid of me?"

Her blue eyes fell straight to the floor in heavy silence. I hated that submissive gesture. I wanted her looking at me, not bowing her head like a beaten dog.

"Were there others in your pack treated this way?" I pressed on, appalled by the reality she lived in. Where one wolf was abused, usually there was a whole class of outcasts hidden away from sight.

She shook her head, her gaze still glued to my boots. "Only me."

The answer hit me like a physical blow. It made her situation a hundred times worse. She carried strong Alpha blood, yet they used her as a punching bag while treating everyone else like royalty.

"You are one person who never needs to fear me," I stated firmly, wiping the leftover cream from my fingers with a tissue. "I want you to know that. I am not them. I do not beat women to feel powerful."

She didn't answer. She just pulled the long sleeves of the navy sweatshirt down over her hands, shrinking further into herself and hiding away from me.

By the time nightfall arrived, the tension hadn't broken. I guided her out of the office and up the grand staircase toward my bedroom. She needed to rest and heal. Since she had no connection to her Wolf, she wouldn't survive the chaos and raw energy of tonight's hunt.

We stepped into the master bedroom. She stood awkwardly near the door, keeping a safe distance.

"I'm leaving," I told her, walking toward the closet to grab a fresh shirt for after the run.

She let out a soft gasp, her head snapping up. "You're leaving?" she whispered, staring at me in surprise.

"It's a full moon tonight. I have to lead the pack run. I'll be back in a few hours, but you should be fast asleep by then."

Her brow knitted together in deep confusion. "Pack run?"

I stopped moving, turning to face her. "You know, when the entire pack shifts and hunts together under the moonlight." She just stared at me. Her blank expression sent a warning chill down my spine. "Moonscar doesn't do a pack run?"

She shook her head slowly.

That was impossible. "You will get used to it here. Get some sleep. Because once you get your Wolf back, you will be joining us out there."

Leaving her standing there to process that bizarre revelation, I headed downstairs to the main foyer. Garek and Wyatt were already waiting, shedding their outer layers in preparation for the shift.

"How's the new girl settling in?" Wyatt asked, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it onto a chair.

"She's staying," I replied, my mind still stuck on her words. "And Moonscar doesn't do pack runs."

Garek stopped dead in his tracks, staring at me. "Are you serious?"

"That's what she said."

"I thought that was standard everywhere," Garek argued, stunned. "All wolves are empowered on the night of a full moon. It's a biological requirement. It's the best time to hunt."

I frowned, a deep sense of suspicion settling into my gut. "Are you sure you didn't see anything unusual when you were watching their territory today?"

Garek shook his head. "From my position, they acted just like everyone else. Some went to work, some stayed and trained, others harvested their crops." He cocked a brow at me. "Why? What do you think they are hiding?"

"Massive red flags," I muttered. "For starters, the true identity of whoever murdered Malia's parents."

"You think Brant did it?" Garek suggested.

Wyatt scoffed loudly. "I don't think Brant is smart enough to orchestrate a cover-up like that. The idiot didn't even bother to read the mating contract before signing his sister away."

"Exactly," I agreed. "There is a much deeper scheme going on in that pack. I think we need to pay them a visit tomorrow."

Wyatt grinned, his eyes flashing with anticipation. "Surprise them?"

"Sometimes, it's better when they don't know we are coming," I said. "Brant was already pissed about my arrival the first time. Let's see how they react when we show up unannounced."

We finalized our departure time for the next day, then stepped out into the crisp night air, letting our wolves take over for the hunt.

Hours later, the run finished. The wild adrenaline slowly faded from my blood. After taking a blazing hot shower to wash off the dirt, sweat, and pine needles, I walked quietly into the dark bedroom.

Malia was still there. A part of me thought she might have used the opportunity to run, taking advantage of the empty house to escape into the woods. Instead, she lay sleeping soundly in the middle of the bed. She was curled up in a tiny, defensive ball, hugging a plush pillow tightly to her chest, still wearing the oversized sweats I had given her earlier.

I climbed into the bed beside her. Without waking her, I reached out and pulled her tiny, weak frame gently against my side. She made a few funny, soft noises as she stirred, but quickly fell back into a deep sleep, her body warmth soaking into my skin.

When morning broke, bright sunlight streamed through the large windows. I woke up first, staying perfectly still just to watch her sleep. At some point during the night, she had rolled over and now faced me. In the early morning light, a faint, beautiful dusting of freckles marked the bridge of her nose.

Then, she let out a sudden, panicked gasp.

She scrambled backward, sitting bolt upright and rubbing her eyes. "Where am I?"

"Malia, you are in my pack, remember," I said, my voice rough and gravelly from sleep.

Her wide blue eyes locked onto mine, then immediately drifted downward. She stared directly at my bare chest, tracing the muscle lines down to the thin white sheet that barely covered my waist.

"Are you... Are you naked?!" she stammered. A delicate, beautiful rosiness flooded her pale cheeks, making her look much less fragile and far more alive. She patted down her own arms and legs, letting out a massive sigh of relief when she realized she was still fully dressed in her clothes.

I smirked at her panic. "I prefer it that way, especially in my own bed."

'We could strip her,' Rokar muttered darkly in my mind, his primal instincts flaring at the sight of her flushed skin. 'We could show her what we really want.'

'We need to take it slower,' I warned him, forcing my sulking wolf to the back of my mind. 'She isn't like the others.'

Thankfully, as I had gotten older, I had become better at keeping his demands under control, but Malia tested those limits without even trying.

Malia scrambled off the mattress, practically running across the room. She shut herself in the attached bathroom. Even through the thick door, I could hear her nervous muttering, trying desperately to compose herself.

I climbed out of bed, pulling on a pair of dark jeans and a black tee.

"When you are done," I called out, leaning against the wall, "we need to put your cream on."

Ten solid minutes passed before she finally made an appearance. She stepped out cautiously, her eyes tracking every movement I made. I grabbed the frosted pot of cream from the nightstand and gestured for her to come closer and lift her top.

She walked over, rigid as a board.

"Garek, Wyatt, and I have an errand to run today," I informed her, unscrewing the lid. "You will be staying here."

She froze, her hand hesitating on the hem of her sweatshirt. "Alone?" she asked, her voice quivering with clear anxiety.

"Alone," I confirmed. I scooped out the cold cream. "Well, there will be others here in the pack house, so not completely alone. You will be protected."

She nodded slowly, cautiously rolling up her top to expose her bruised stomach. I applied the cream, keeping my touch as light and careful as possible. As I finished rubbing it into her skin, my hand hovered over her soft stomach a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Her skin was warm, contrasting with the cold medicine.

Rokar growled loudly in my head. He was desperate to claim her as ours, to bite her, mark her, and finally put a silence to the vicious rumors surrounding us and the women of our past.

I dropped my hand abruptly, denying him the satisfaction. I wouldn't rush this.