Page 79 of Wolf's Reckoning
I was known as the daughter of the Hollow. But now? Now I was the wife of a pack leader. I needed more time to make the transition, but time seemed to be the one thing Wolfe wouldn’t give me as he started to mold the pack to his way.
A branch snapped nearby, and I didn’t look up.
“I said I needed space,” I muttered, not looking up, not wanting to let him see my tears. “You had your fun,” I added irritably. “Stop following me.”
“It’s a forest,” Adair’s voice replied gently. “You don’t own it.”
A laugh tried to rise. Failed. Relief filled me instead that it wasn’t him. “Don’t tempt me to try.”
She sat beside me, her presence calm as always. Adair never asked questions unless she already knew the answer. Today, she just waited.
“I thought I was ready,” I said after a minute. “I really did. I thought I could…keep going. Step up. Do what needed to be done.”
“You will,” she said quietly.
“Then why does it feel like I’ve already lost?”
“Because your dad died,” she said gently. Adair tilted her head. “And because you thought you would fight alone.”
I looked at her, bitter and tired. “It was supposed to be that way.”
“But now it’s not.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “And that terrifies you more than any trouble coming, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t answer. We sat in silence for a few more moments, and then she stood, brushing off her knees. “You can resent him all you want, Rowen. But don’t forget—you’re stillyou.No one gets to take that. Not even Wolfe.”
When she left, I stayed in the trees, watching the light fade. When I finally stood, the ash clinging to my pants fell like dust to the earth.
I might’ve married Wolfe, but he marriedme.
I smiled as I straightened my shoulders. We’d see who’d be laughing when this was over.
I hadn’tspat in his soup, and he hadn’t kissed me again.
We were operating a truce—fragile, I was sure of it—but for the pack, we looked like we were settling into our new marriage.
Wolfe and some of the others were out on a perimeter run, and I had been busy all day with pack duties. I was halfway back to the main grounds from the stream that ran down the mountain before I felt it—the tension.
Not grief. Not respect.
Challenge.
It rolled over the air like a low growl. Subtle. Dangerous.
Some of the pack circled near the training ring again, but this time they weren’t sparring. They were watching.Confused, I moved closer. I’d heard Wolfe tell the others they’d be gone most of the day.
Standing in the center, arms crossed, wearing a self-satisfied smirk that made my blood simmer, was not Wolfe, but Kirk. He was older than me by a few years. Son of a warrior. Full of the kind of brittle, inherited pride that never learned to bow. The fact that he wasn’t with the others was no surprise to me.
Kirk turned when he saw me. Loud enough for everyone to hear, he greeted me with scorn. “I thought pack leaders chose wives based on strength. Not sympathy.”
My boots hit the dirt harder than I intended as I walked closer. I heard someone murmur something behind him, but he didn’t flinch.
“You’ve got something to say?” I asked, coming to a stop just outside the ring.
Kirk smiled, and it was all teeth. “Just wondering how long the Council’s puppet plans to sit as leader of this pack.”
“Careful,” I said, stepping closer. “You’re starting to sound like a traitor.”
“I’m just saying…” Kirk shrugged. “We buried Malric. The pack is ready to move on. But how can we? With two pretend leaders—one supposedly sanctioned by blood and the other by a ceremony that was so rushed it left a bad taste in my mouth.”
