I spent the most time in Timber Hollow’s territory when other packs hosted me as heir apparent to Silver Falls as part of the peace agreement. It’s a way for those who are next in line can build relationships between nearby packs for trade and learn different methods to lead. It’s Silver Falls’ turn to host Alistair’s heir. I’m hoping that will make Alistair want to support my bid for an updated trade agreement between our packs.

I peer through the trees as the path curves around the south face of the mountain. The forest where Timber Hollow Pack lives is just visible in the distance past the foothills and woods surrounding Ashbury between our territories.

Visiting other packs opened my eyes to many things that make an alpha worthy of leading their pack, but those weeks down in that forest only made me want to come back here. They interact the most with humans and their technology out of all of us, and it was exhausting to regulate control over my more wild behaviors for their sake. Besides, the lake in Timber Hollow doesn’t compare to the natural springs dotting the mountain. I missed hiking to the highest point for the best view in the region and the falls…and⁠—

I cut myself off from reminiscing about what it is that makes this mountain home, tearing my gaze from a fallen leaf that’s the right shade of amber to match⁠—

Fuck. No. I blow out a terse breath and roll my neck, stretching a tense knot from my shoulders.

The interaction with Avery refuses to leave my head, poisoning every thought and bringing my awareness back to her no matter how much I steer myself away. If I don’t address it head on, she’ll own my mind the rest of the night.

A snort jerks my head. This shouldn’t surprise me by now. After all, none of the Morgan clan turned out to be who my family thought they were.

Yet I’m stuck on her. More than I should be, noticing more than I allow myself to.

Like the dark circles smudged beneath her eyes. How lean she’s grown ahead of the winter season.

The way the afternoon light catches on her golden light brown hair. The shape of her expressive mouth. The challenge in her eyes that always makes the blood in my veins pump faster. I bring my thoughts to a halt once more.

Noticing anything about Avery is a dangerous path. One I don’t grant myself permission to venture. Not anymore.

Not since her father challenged mine a mere week after I returned home from Timber Hollow Pack.

I swipe a hand over my mouth, turning the encounter earlier over in my head. There’s something I want to pin down about it that bothers me more than usual—other than the obvious way my wolf reacted to her rebellious attitude with interest—yet it evades me. What was she doing all the way at the edge of that border when she lives by the northernmost part of the territory?

I write the fixation off as part of my dedication to ensuring my pack is safe and cared for. Even traitors like her who live one step above banishment. Every shifter within this territory is my responsibility.

“I don’t need this right now,” I grumble.

Frowning at the picturesque view below the mountainside speckled in an array of oranges, reds, and yellows, I scratch my chest to rid myself of the phantom sensation of a spark attempting to flicker to life.

“What are you doing?”

I still at the voice, shocked I was so lost in thought that I didn’t sense my second in command approaching. “Liam.”

He dips his head in greeting, attention pausing on my shirt with a raised brow. I stop scratching and drop my hand, along with the bundle of wood.

“Itching to go to fur? Me too.” He ruffles his dark brown hair with a lopsided grin. “Wolf’s been acting up even though I went for a long hunt last night. You’d think he’d found his mate.”

My lips quirk. I appreciate that he’s never one to pry. He’s been with me through everything. We’ve grown up together from pups. Once I was officially named heir at fifteen, I knew I’d appoint my best friend as my top lieutenant. There was no other choice I’d trust more than him for the role of my beta.

For the briefest second, I consider the possibility that an impending mate bond is my wolf’s problem, quickly dismissing it. He’s never taken much interest in any female in the pack before. I’ve also never heard of a fated pairing with a Wolfless shifter. An arranged mating, sure. As far as I know, no Wolfless has ever awoken a mating bond with someone.

Avery’s the only Wolfless currently in our pack. Any we had in the past were blotted out when a wolf didn’t emerge at coming of age ceremonies, driven from the territory or put down for tainting bloodlines with weakness. My jaw clenches. It’s not how things are done around here anymore.

“Always is when there's a full moon.”

“I don’t know how some of the other packs out there handle not running whenever they want.” He shudders. “It doesn’t seem right.”

I shrug. “They’re traditionalists. They go by the oldest of ways, respecting the moon goddess’ cycle. I couldn’t live like that permanently, but it wasn’t so bad when I spent time with the nomadic Tullut in the remote northern tundra during my time traveling to different packs. It makes you appreciate the shift more.” My mouth stretches with a taunting smirk. “Teaches you how to maintain a harmonious balance with your wolf so you learn not to give in every time they want you to do stupid shit.”

His expression mirrors mine. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve got us all beat there. Are you done up here? The border line is good. I checked it myself this morning.”

There’s still one stretch left, but I let it go with a nod. “I got some extra wood for the bonfire.”

Liam eyes the pile at my feet skeptically. “Wood? Those are twigs at best.”

I exhale in amusement. “Shut up.”

Gathering wood with him is the most normal I’ve felt all day. But as we follow the trail back to the center of the packlands, the odd sensation of flickering dances through my chest again.

4AVERY

The rest of the walk back to the cottage I share with Beatrix and Lena only takes minutes, except every step feels wrong somehow. Maybe I’m still coming down from the adrenaline of crossing paths with Caden.

When I reach the crooked gate Bea helped me build as a project to distract ourselves the first year we moved up here, I breathe easier. The wood’s seen better days. We did what we could with the pieces we salvaged from the group assigned to manage the carpentry supply for the pack. Even though the scrap wood cost us twice the trade value than it should’ve because we’re Morgans, it makes the place feel slightly homier.

The dilapidated tiny house is one of the original ones built on the mountain, dating back to the shifters that settled here to start Silver Falls Pack once they broke away from the first pack to exist. And it shows its age after being uninhabited for decades. The roof is in disrepair, there are cracks in the pockmarked stone steps, the door is hanging on for dear life to its creaky hinges. One of the narrow arched lattice windows has a chip from a hailstorm that’s splintered outward with a fracture line.

We do everything we can to keep the place standing, though the cobbled stone foundation is deteriorating faster than I know how to patch with mud and whatever stones I’m able to collect. Last year I picked the sloping field behind the cottage clean to repair a corner.

It’s not much, but it’s ours now. Our love for each other fills the small space to make it a home.

I check my garden before heading in. It was hell to get this land to cooperate with me, but I won out as the more stubborn one in the end.

There was some help I received to get my garden to take. She caught me by chance in the woods, desperation driving me to search for food when we didn’t receive enough the first week here.