After they left the chamber, I shut the heavy oak door and drove the iron deadbolt home until it clicked into place. The sound was small, but it echoed through me like a declaration of war.
I stripped the bed down to the bare frame. Every sheet, every pillowcase that still carried even a trace of the evening's indignity, that honeysuckle laid too thick over copper and something faintly rotted, I tore free and replaced with fresh linens from the armoire. My wolf paced low beneath my skin the whole time, hackles raised at the foreign scent on my own den. Then I pressed in my earbuds, lay back against the cool pillow, and forced myself into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Lena found me in the corridor outside the kitchen. His jaw was set like cut marble, and the vein at his temple pulsed with a fury he didn't bother to conceal. The sour reek of cheap copper and wine gone bad rolled off him before he even spoke.
"What was that last night?" His voice was low, the kind of quiet that preceded violence in this den. "I scratched at that door for twenty minutes, Iris. Twenty. My mother and father woke because of it. You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
I met his gaze without flinching. "Yes, I did it on purpose. I thought I'd give you the chance to share quarters with Tessa. You should be thanking me."
Something shifted behind his eyes. He looked at me the way one might look at a packmate that had suddenly bared its teeth. "Are you out of your mind, Iris? Why would I bed Tessa? You're my mate. You're the Luna of this den."
"Oh, so you still remember that." I kept my tone flat, stripped of everything except cold fact. "I thought the moment Tessa Thornvale crossed our territory line again, I'd be cut out of the picture entirely."
As if summoned by the sound of her own name, Tessa appeared at the far end of the hallway. She moved with the practiced grace of a she-wolf raised among powerful Alphas, her dark hair swept over one shoulder, her expression arranged into something soft and concerned. Her scent reached me a breath before her voice did, that too-sweet honeysuckle masking the brittle rot underneath.
"Please, don't fight because of me." Her voice carried just the right tremor of guilt. "We're meant to leave for the gathering. I'd never forgive myself if my being here drove a wedge between you two. That's the last thing I want."
Lena turned to me, and I watched the last flicker of doubt leave his face. "You see? You see how she carries herself? Tessa has grace. She knows her place. Unlike you, with your petty games and bolted doors."
The click of Agata Greyhollow's heels preceded her arrival. The Matriarch filled the doorway, her posture rigid as forged steel, her eyes sweeping the scene with the cold efficiency of a she-wolf who had ruled this den's hierarchy for three decades. Withered lavender and bitter herbs trailed in after her, dry as chalk-dust.
"Iris." My name in her mouth was never a greeting. It was always a correction. "Your temper is becoming a problem. Barring your mate from his own quarters? In this den, that is unacceptable. We will overlook it this once, since we leave for the gathering. But do not test me again."
Adrian Greyhollow's voice rolled in from the adjoining room like distant thunder. He did not bother to step into the hallway. He didn't need to. The faint pressure of an old Alpha's aura crept under the door ahead of his words, thinned now by years of lost wars but still enough to make my wolf bristle. "This is what happens when you show too much leniency. A mate is the head of his den. He is the heir to this pack. And she seals the door against him?" A pause, heavy with contempt. "Disgraceful. A Luna like this needs reminding of her place. Sharply, if necessary."
Rowan materialized at her mother's elbow, a steaming cup cradled in her manicured fingers, green sap and sour milk hanging around her like ozone before a storm. She sipped, smiled, and slid the blade in with a giggle. "Careful, Iris. With that temper of yours, my brother might just sever the bond altogether. And then where would you be?"
I caught Tessa's eyes over Rowan's shoulder. The mask of the concerned peacemaker had slipped, just for a heartbeat. Beneath it was something triumphant. Something that glittered like a knife turned in lamplight. She held my gaze, and the corner of her mouth curled with the quiet satisfaction of a she-wolf who believed she had already won.
Lena said nothing in my defense. Not a word. He simply dragged all of the luggage across the foyer tiles and lined the cases up in front of me like a barricade.
