Double Trouble, Triple Heat

Chapter 12

Luna doesn't give us a choice.

"If she's being discussed, she should face the pack." Her ice-blue eyes sweep over me with something that might be respect. Or might be calculation. "Hiding makes her look weak."

Dominic's jaw tightens, but he nods. "She's right."

"I don't need you to speak for me," I say, though my voice wavers.

His hand finds the small of my back—warm, steadying. "I know. But you don't have to do this alone."

Caspian flanks my other side as we walk to the truck. "For what it's worth," he murmurs, "you're terrifying when you're angry. Use that."

We drive deep into the forest, past roads I didn't know existed, until the trees grow so thick the moonlight barely penetrates. Then Dominic stops the truck, and we walk.

The sacred clearing opens before us like a wound in the earth.

Dozens of wolves gather around a massive bonfire, flames licking toward the stars. Some are shifted—huge, magnificent creatures with eyes that reflect the firelight. Others are human, but barely. There's something feral in the way they hold themselves, something that reminds me these are predators wearing people-suits.

I feel their stares. Curious. Hostile. Hungry.

The golden thread in my chest pulses, and I realize I can sense them—faintly, like static on the edge of hearing. All these wolves, all these lives, connected to Dominic through bonds I'm only beginning to understand.

Dominic's hand presses harder against my back. "Stay close."

"Always," I whisper, and feel Caspian move closer on my other side, his shoulder brushing mine.

An ancient man sits in a carved wooden chair near the fire. His skin is paper-thin, mapped with wrinkles, but he holds himself with quiet authority. His eyes are milky white—blind, I think, until they find me across the clearing with unnerving precision.

"Eldric Moonwhisper," Caspian whispers. "He's over three hundred years old. Remembers things the rest of us have forgotten."

Beside the elder stands another man. Tall. Scarred. Radiating cold contempt that hits me like a physical force.

Marcus Blackclaw.

He speaks first, voice carrying across the clearing like a war drum.

"Our alpha has taken a human as mate." He lets the word drip with disgust. "Not just any human—the daughter of a hunter. Robert Mitchell's spawn. This breaks every tradition we hold sacred."

Murmurs ripple through the gathered wolves. I feel Dominic tense beside me.

"She carries Lena Ashwood's blood," Dominic counters, voice steady. "She's half-wolf."

"Half is not whole." Marcus's scarred face twists into a sneer. "And this tri-bond? An alpha sharing his mate with his second?" He laughs—ugly, mocking. "It's perversion. Weakness. A sign that our alpha cannot satisfy one woman, let alone lead a pack."

Several wolves laugh with him. I feel Dominic's rage through the bond—a banked furnace, barely contained.

Caspian growls, low and dangerous. I reach for his hand, squeeze. He stills, but the tension in his body doesn't ease.

Dominic silences them both with a look.

Eldric raises a withered hand. "The old texts speak of tri-bonds. Sacred unions that—"

"Old texts." Marcus spits the words. "Written by wolves too weak to claim what was theirs. I challenge the alpha's judgment." He steps forward, and the pack parts before him like water. "If Dominic Blackwood cannot lead with strength, he should not lead at all."

The formal challenge hangs in the air—heavy as a death sentence.

I know what this means. Caspian explained it on the drive. A challenge can't be refused. It's fought in wolf form. It ends in submission or death.

Dominic doesn't flinch. "I accept. Name the time."

"Dominic—" I grab his arm.

He covers my hand with his, but his eyes never leave Marcus. "This was always coming. Better to face it now."

"A fortnight," Marcus says. "Let the pack see their alpha sweat."

The silence that follows is suffocating. Wolves watch with hungry eyes, waiting to see who will blink first.

I should stay quiet. Should let the men handle this, the way they've handled pack politics for centuries.

Instead, I step forward.

Every eye in the clearing turns to me. The human. The outsider. The problem.

My heart pounds so hard I'm sure they can all hear it. But I refuse to cower. I refuse to let them see me as weak.

"Before you decide I'm unworthy," I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel, "there's something you should know."

My hand moves to my stomach. I feel Dominic stiffen beside me—he wasn't expecting this. Neither was Caspian, whose sharp intake of breath echoes in the sudden silence.

"I'm carrying his child." I lift my chin. "Maybe both their children. The first alpha pups born to this pack in over a generation."

Through the bond, I feel their emotions crash over me—Dominic's fierce protectiveness, Caspian's overwhelming love, both of them terrified and proud and desperate to shield me from the wolves who might tear me apart for this confession.

I don't need shielding. I need them to see who I am.

I let that sink in before I continue.

"And if that makes me an abomination to you—if loving two men who would die to protect this pack makes me unworthy—then your traditions are worth less than the dirt we're standing on."

Stunned silence.

Then Eldric rises from his chair. Despite his age, despite his blindness, power radiates from him in waves.

"A Prime's grandchild." His voice carries across the clearing, ancient and absolute. "The first in two generations. Lena's blood, returned to us." He turns those milky eyes toward Marcus. "This isn't perversion, Marcus Blackclaw. This is prophecy."

The murmurs shift. I see wolves exchanging glances, uncertainty replacing hostility. A Prime's grandchild. The words ripple outward like stones dropped in water.

Marcus's face contorts with fury. But he's trapped—he can't attack a pregnant woman's mate without losing the support he may have spent years cultivating. Can't challenge the alpha when the alpha's mate carries sacred blood.

"The challenge stands," he snarls. "After the child is born. Then we'll see what kind of alpha hides behind a woman's skirts."

He retreats into the shadows, hatred burning in his eyes. The look he gives me promises retribution. Promises pain.

I've made an enemy tonight. A dangerous one.

But I've also made a statement.

The clearing begins to empty, wolves drifting away in pairs and packs. Dominic's hand finds mine, squeezes tight.

"You shouldn't have done that," he says quietly.

"Someone needed to."

"You painted a target on yourself."

"I painted a target on Marcus. Now he can't touch you without looking like a coward."

He stares at me—golden eyes unreadable. Then something shifts in his expression. Not anger. Admiration.

"You're going to be one hell of an alpha female."

Caspian appears at my other side, silver eyes bright with something that looks like awe. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Caspian—"

"I'm serious. Watching you face down a hundred wolves with nothing but spite and pregnancy hormones?" He grins, but there's heat beneath the humor. "I've never wanted you more."

"We're in public," I hiss, but I can't help the flush creeping up my neck.

"Don't care." He leans close, lips brushing my ear. "When we get home, I'm going to show you exactly what watching you be fierce does to me."

Dominic makes a sound that might be agreement. His hand slides from my back to my hip, possessive and warm. "Both of us."

Despite everything—the danger, the threats, the war brewing on the horizon—heat pools low in my belly.

These men. My men.

Maybe this whole impossible situation might actually work out.

Then I see Luna watching from the tree line, expression unreadable. She gives me a single nod before disappearing into the dark.

And I realize I might have made an unlikely ally, too.