"What are the two of you doing here?" His amber gaze locked onto the parchment in my hands. "Who's seeking a Bond Severance?"
Something about the document seemed to catch his attention, a flicker of recognition crossing his features.
Before he could examine it more closely, I had already slipped the papers into my satchel, keeping my voice light and unbothered. "Raven is going through a Bond Dissolution with her mate. I'm helping her seek guidance from the Mooncourt."
Raven Stormholt was my closest friend among the packs—convenient enough to use as a shield for the truth.
I redirected the conversation, letting my eyes drift to Aurora, who was so intoxicated on moonwine she could barely keep her footing. "What happened to Aurora? Did she overindulge at the feast?"
His expression shifted, something uncomfortable passing through his scent as his attention pulled away from the document. "Her former mate's pack is stirring up trouble," he offered vaguely. "She'll be staying at the den with us for a few days."
Then, with a practiced air of concern, he turned his focus to me. "Even if you're assisting a friend, you shouldn't be meeting unmated males this late under the moon."
That familiar lecturing tone, as if he had any right to it.
I watched Aurora, practically draped across his chest, her fingers curled into the fabric of his tunic, and felt nothing but hollow irony settle in my bones.
This male who called her his sister at every gathering had long since positioned her where a mate belonged.
"Pack Advocate Thornhart, let's end our consultation here for tonight." My voice remained steady, betraying nothing.
Kael's sharp, fox-like eyes swept over Aurora with deliberate slowness, and a knowing smile curved across his lips.
"Now that I think about it, I've never had the pleasure of meeting Alpha Duskmoor's bonded mate."
He shot me a look heavy with meaning, then glanced back at Aurora, his tone carrying an edge of suggestion. "Don't tell me the Alpha's true mate is—"
"My pack's private matters are none of your concern." Fenris cut him off, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. Clearly, he had no intention of revealing who bore his bond mark.
Kael dipped his head in acknowledgment, entirely unruffled by the Alpha's displeasure. "My apologies. Open bonding arrangements are so common among the elite packs these days—I simply assumed Alpha Duskmoor might follow that custom. Rest assured, I know when to keep my nose out of another wolf's territory."
Before Fenris's temper could fully ignite, Kael turned and strolled away into the shadows, leaving only that knowing smile lingering in the moonlight.
"If you ever find yourself in need of a Bond Severance, Alpha Duskmoor, feel free to send a howl-call my way. I'll offer you a favorable arrangement."
Fenris's gaze cut to me instinctively, his voice ice-cold and absolute. "My mate and I share a perfectly content bond."
Kael was already too far away to hear the declaration.
But Aurora heard every word.
She nestled deeper against him, drunk and hazy, lifting her glistening eyes to meet his. Her voice came out small, fragile as morning frost. "Am I... intruding on your time with your mate?"
Before he could form an answer, her eyes reddened with unshed tears, and she struggled to pull herself from his arms. "You're not just my brother anymore—you have your own bonded now. I shouldn't be standing between you. I'll return to the guest lodge."
Fenris pulled her back into his embrace, holding her tighter than before, his arms wrapping around her like she was something precious that might shatter. His voice softened to something almost unbearably tender, a tone I had never once heard directed at me.
"You're right. I'm not just your brother anymore."
He paused, and the silence stretched like a held breath.
"But you're always welcome to intrude."
His gaze burned into her—raw, undisguised, his wolf barely contained beneath the surface—as if he might devour her whole right there under the stars.
In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty. He was one sentence away from crossing a line he could never uncross. One breath away from speaking words that would shatter whatever fragile pretense we had maintained.
I stood there like a complete outsider, a ghost haunting my own bonding, watching the scene unfold with detached clarity. My wolf whimpered somewhere deep inside, but I had long since learned to silence her.
Only then did he seem to remember I existed at all. He released Aurora, a flicker of guilt crossing his features like a passing cloud. "Sweetheart, you don't mind, do you? She's just my sister."
He'd already prepared himself—ready to soothe a jealous mate, to offer pretty words and empty reassurances.
But I only pulled my lips into the ghost of a smile, the expression feeling foreign on my face.
"I don't mind."
The moment those three words left my mouth, I heard it clearly—the sound of my own heart tearing open, the bond between us straining against wounds that would never heal.
When morning light crept through the stone windows, I woke and reached instinctively for the space beside me on the sleeping furs.
It was already cold.
