Mate Me in Moonlight

Chapter 2

POV: Adeline

Waking up took me a moment, because nothing hurt the way it should.

No frozen ground beneath my back. No smoke in my lungs. Just warmth, the faint weight of a blanket, and the steady hush of a building that had survived the night.

For a few breaths I lay there, waiting for the wrong sound—the crack of splitting beams, distant screams. All I heard were footsteps overhead, something clinking in the kitchen, a low ripple of laughter from downstairs.

My wolf stirred, stretching into the quiet. See? she murmured. We slept. We woke. No flames.

Trust didn't come as easily to my human half. Comfort always felt like a trick the world was playing before it took something else away.

The ceiling above me was wood, pale and plain. My boots sat by the door, cleaned of yesterday's mud and placed side by side. Someone had done that. Touched my things like I belonged here.

On the dresser, folded clothes waited—a soft shirt, leggings, socks. Freya's scent clung to them. She had chosen these. For me.

The thought made something twist under my ribs. Gratitude and unease were tangled things.

I showered quickly, bracing a hand on the tile when hot water loosened muscles I'd gotten used to holding tight. By the time a knock came at the door, I was dressed, guard mostly in place.

"Adeline?" Freya's voice was muffled but bright. "You decent?"

"Yes. Unfortunately."

She slipped inside. Her braid was messier this morning, her eyes scanning me head to toe.

"Better," she decided. "Less corpse, more person."

"I'm aiming for 'functional ghost.' Don't raise expectations."

A grin tugged at her mouth. "Come downstairs. Breakfast is ready. Also, Aiden wants to see you after you eat."

My spine tightened. "To do what, exactly?"

"Ask questions." She shrugged. "He called it 'getting you oriented.' That's Alpha for 'I want to understand what's coming so it doesn't kill my people.'"

"That sounds familiar," I said quietly.

Her gaze flickered, sympathy there and gone. "Come on. You'll think more clearly with food in you."

I followed her to the common room.

It felt like stepping into another life.

Long tables ran the length of the space. Wolves sat clustered in groups, eating and talking, brushing shoulders without flinching. A fire burned low in the hearth. The room smelled of coffee, bread, woodsmoke, wet fur, and the simple fact of many bodies moving in the same rhythm.

Heads turned when we walked in. Curious eyes tracked me, weighing the stranger at Freya's shoulder.

My wolf lifted her head, as if we'd walked into a song she recognized. My body reacted differently: shoulders tight, gaze flicking to doorways and windows, counting exits.

Freya steered us to a table near the wall. A plate waited—eggs, bread, something spiced that made my stomach clench with sudden hunger.

"You did this," I said.

"I threatened the kitchen staff on your behalf," she corrected cheerfully. "Eat."

I'd forgotten what it felt like to eat without rationing every bite. The first mouthful nearly undid me. Warm, solid, not stolen.

Around us, the pack existed in its own quiet orbit. Someone argued about border patrol. A woman braided a little girl's hair while the child complained. Teenage wolves laughed at something in a book. Nothing extraordinary, yet my chest ached as if I were watching something fragile.

My wolf soaked it up. We remember this. We were born for this.

The human part of me remembered the moment normalcy had turned to screaming and heat. It held the ache at arm's length.

Freya watched me between sips. "Aiden's going to ask about Ash Hollow. He needs to know how far Ironclaw is willing to go."

"I know."

"You don't have to bleed for him. Just give him enough to keep people alive."

"Alive is more than most packs got," I replied.

She studied my face. "Ready?"

"No. But waiting won't fix that."

We went to Aiden's room.

His scent met us before the door did. My wolf leaned into it without hesitation. I held myself still and pretended not to notice my pulse jumping.

Freya knocked. "Aiden? I brought your stray."

"Send her in."

The room inside was simple but lived-in. Shelves lined with binders, a large map on the wall, a sturdy desk bearing controlled chaos. Light spilled through the window, catching on the loose curl that had escaped his bun.

He stood when we entered.

"Adeline. How are you settling in?"

"Still here. That's better than some places."

His mouth twitched. "Please, sit."

I took the chair opposite his desk. Freya stayed near the wall—a strange comfort, a witness who knew both sides.

"I'm going to ask you questions about Ash Hollow and Ironclaw," he said. "If I hit something you don't want to answer, say so. I'll find another way around it."

Most Alphas treated information like a commodity they were entitled to. He was offering me a boundary.

"Go ahead," I said.

His questions were clear, organized: numbers, terrain, timing of raids, how long between tests at the border and the final attack. I answered what I could, skirting the places where memory threatened to drag me under.

He didn't ask how it felt to watch everything burn. He didn't ask who I'd lost.

When I finished, he let the silence sit.

"Thank you," he said. "That helps."

"I'm glad something useful came out of it."

"Do you believe Ironclaw will follow you here?"

"I don't think I'm that important. They're expanding. I was in the way once."

"And the rumors? About you being the only one who walks away?"

"Rumors need patterns. Some packs got hit after I passed through. Cause and effect make a neat story."

"But you don't believe you're the cause."

"If I thought I was, I wouldn't be here. I'm tired, not cruel."

Something in his expression eased. "We'll treat Ironclaw as a regional threat, not a personal vendetta."

That shouldn't have felt like a kindness. Somehow, it did.

He studied me for another beat, then said deliberately, "There's one more thing we should acknowledge."

I already knew what it was.

"The bond," he said quietly. "You feel it."

The air changed. Freya froze near the wall, eyes widening briefly, then sliding away to give us space.

My wolf stepped to the front of my mind, bright and fierce. She answered without shame. Yes. Of course.

My human mouth was slower. "I do. I'm not looking to do anything about it."

Aiden nodded as if he'd expected nothing else. "Same."

I blinked. "Same?"

"I feel it. I'm not interested in forcing it into something it doesn't need to be, especially when you've lost as much as you have."

My chest tightened at how easily he put that into words.

"In Willow Ridge, bonding is a choice," he continued. "Not a price of admission, not a duty, not a way to bind someone against their will. Whatever the bond is doing between us, it doesn't write our decisions for us."

Relief swept through me so fast it left a faint ache. I hadn't realized how much I'd braced for pressure until that pressure didn't come.

My wolf didn't retreat. She settled. Eased. She liked that he'd given us room.

"Good," I said quietly. "I can live with that."

Freya let out a breath she'd been holding. When I glanced her way, she gave me a quick half-smile.

Aiden leaned back. "You came here asking for a bed, a door that locks, and a chance to earn your keep. You'll have all three, bond or no bond. That's the promise."

Simple. Clean. No hidden hooks.

"Then we have an understanding," I said.

"For now," he agreed. No threat in it. Just honesty.

He glanced toward Freya. "Show her the rest of the house, the basics of the perimeter."

"Yes, Alpha." She pushed off the wall. "Come on, Adeline. Before he starts talking about patrol grids."

Aiden's mouth curved. "I would never."

"You would absolutely," Freya said, then stepped into the hallway.

I rose. The bond tugged once more, a soft thread under my sternum.

At the door, I couldn't stop myself from glancing back.

Aiden was watching me, dark eyes steady and unreadable. No demand. No expectation. Just an awareness that mirrored my own.

The flicker that had started with his words about choice warmed beneath my ribs. I smothered it and stepped into the hall.

Freya fell beside me. "He didn't scare you off. I'm impressed."

"I've seen worse," I replied.