Page 72 of Primal

Which just further proves that I need to make this right. I tried to ask her today, tried to find the words. Therightones. I wanted to ask if there was any hope of fixing this. Of repairing the damage I caused in my blind desperation to be the Alpha I thought my people needed. I let duty warp my instincts, twisted myself into someone I barely recognize, all to prove I could protect this pack. That I was worthy of the role I was forced to take.

But the broken way she looked today, standing in front of me days after I turned my back on the most sacred bond I’ll ever have…it hasn’t left me. And I doubt it ever will. She looked like someone surviving on willpower alone.The guilt crashes through me like cold water, and just like that, the tension in my jeans eases, desire swallowed by shame.

I’m almost thankful that she hadn’t pretended to entertain my questions today on the back deck. She’d cut me off almost instantly before cutting me down with her own brutal truth. It’s for the best because I’m not free yet, still tied to McNamara’s bargain. The last thing I want is to give Noa hope when I’m still tethered to that smug bastard across the border.

All I wanted to do was take her into my arms, to breathe her in and swear that I’m not going through with it. That I’d soonerburn everything to the ground than mark someone who isn’t her. But I can’t—not yet. Not without a plan. Not without a damn good alternative.

Because Cathal McNamara is a petty son of a bitch with a glass ego, and I wouldn’t put it past him to retaliate the second I back out of our deal. His pride is laughably fragile, and if he eventhinksI’ve embarrassed him—or worse, bruised his precious daughter’s feelings—he’ll come for blood, just to soothe his own damn insecurities.

So, yeah, I need to be smart. Fast. Thorough. I need backup. And I need leverage, enough to shit in his Cheerios and wreck any shot he has at retaliation before the thought even crosses his petty little mind.

“Nick.”

Rhosyn cuts through my spiral, her voice calm but edged with urgency.

“I got a number for Lowri Craddock while I was in Ashvale,” she says, crossing her arms, her feet ceasing their rhythmic swinging. “Thought maybe we could reach out. See if the she-wolves and maybe the Ashvale witches might be willing to help. Lowri and the High Priestess are together, so if you get one, you’re bound to get both of them to help.”

My body tightens, revolting at the very idea of encroaching on Noa’s space—her people—for this. Official or not, they are Noa’s pack. And besides, would they want to help me and my pack after they stood witness to what I did?

Sensing my hesitation, Canaan pushes off the wall. “You can’t afford to be picky right now, man.”

He’s right, and I hate that he’s right. Silently, I agree that if it comes down to it, I will contact Noa’s people. I just hope that by doing so, it’s not another mark against me in Noa’s book.

She told you she would have helped if you’d only given her the chance,a voice in my head reminds me, echoing Noa’s wordsfrom her justified, shrewdly worded verbal beatdown earlier.She probably would have involved them anyway.

And yet, here I am, feeling like I need permission, like I need to fix at least some of the damage I’ve done to her before I dare use her connections for my own purposes. It feels selfish. It feels wrong.

My fingers drum once against the desk, then still. I glance between them, heart thudding in my chest as I say the words I’ve been turning over in the back of my mind for days. “What about Grimm Faolan?”

The room goes quiet. Dead quiet. Rhosyn stares at me like I’ve sprouted a clown nose, and Canaan lifts his eyebrows before letting out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly like he’s torn between disbelief and concern.

“I know I just said we can’t be picky,” he mutters, “but Faolan? Are you serious? That Alpha is basically feral.”

He’s not wrong. Grimm Faolan and his Montana-based pack are more beast than man. From what I’ve heard, they live half wild, letting their baser instincts govern them. They walk on four paws more often than two feet, and they handle threats the same way a rabid wolf pack would in the wild. By ripping them limb from limb with their teeth.

I thoughtmyfather kept our territory isolated, but Grimm puts him to shame. I don’t know a single soul who’s ever stepped foot on their land and come back with a firsthand account. I only saw Grimm once at a national Alpha summit my father dragged me to when I was sixteen. Even then, the heavily tattooed man radiated something dangerous. Wild. Untouched by politics or pack diplomacy. The most dominant Alphas in the room knew better than to look him in the eye.

But maybe that’s exactly what I need. Someone who answers to no one. Who doesn’t give a damn about alliances or traditions.

This will only work if he gives a damn about omegas, though.

Canaan’s still shaking his head, but eventually he nods with a resigned sigh. He knows as much as I do that we are desperate.Iam desperate. “It’s crazy, but all right. I’ll see if I can dig up a contact number.”

Rhosyn adds, “I’ve been able to make a few contacts myself with other packs’ admins. I’ll see if anyone knows anything useful about the Faolan Pack.” She types notes into her phone as she speaks.

Silence settles again, but my mind’s not quiet. It drifts, as it always does, back to her. To Noa.

I let out a long breath, hand tightening into a fist against my thigh. Even if I’m determined to win her back, I can’t shake the creeping doubt that she’ll ever accept me again.

Inside me, my wolf remains still, but not cold. He lies there, the frayed thread between his paws. And this time, when I reach toward it, he lets me. He doesn’t growl or pull away. He watches me. It’s a start.

Progress.

The connection is distant, but there. Alive. Humming away, just waiting for me to put it back together again.

I glance up, breaking the silence with the question that’s been gnawing at me since the moment I saw her at the outlook.

“How bad was it?”

---