Mate Me in Moonlight

Chapter 9

POV: Adeline

I woke to the feeling of being held.

For a moment I thought I was still in the circle of fire from my dream. Then the sensations settled: the steady rhythm of a heartbeat under my ear, the rise and fall of a chest, the scent of cedar and pine and something that was simply Aiden.

His arms were around me, one beneath my shoulders, the other draped along my side as if he'd refused to let go even in sleep. My head rested against the warm fabric of his flannel. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting soft amber light across the ceiling, and somewhere beyond the window I could hear the first tentative notes of birdsong.

I kept my eyes closed for another breath, letting myself exist there, suspended in a place where nothing was burning and no one was screaming and the only sound was the quiet, stubborn beat of his heart. My wolf curled into it, content in a way I hadn't felt since before Ash Hollow fell.

Then the memory of the burned sigil snapped back.

The clearing. The circle. The bald Alpha's yellow eyes. The blackened symbol clawed into the earth.

My body jolted—and Aiden tightened his hold instinctively.

"Easy," he murmured, voice husky with lack of sleep. "You're safe. Breathe, Adeline."

I opened my eyes.

We were in my packhouse room. Gray morning light slipped through the shutters. The blanket had been pulled over us both.

I realized, too late, that I was almost half in his lap.

Heat flushed up my neck. I tried to shift away before my mind could process how much I wanted to stay. His arm stayed firm against my back for another second before he let me move.

"You fainted," he said. "Out on the ridge. Do you remember?"

The question cracked something inside my chest. The image of the sigil flared so vividly I could almost smell the char again.

"I remember," I whispered.

"You've been out for a while. Your body was in shock, Elara said."

I swallowed. "You carried me back."

"I wasn't going to leave you there," he said simply, as if there had never been another option.

That was the problem.

I pushed myself upright. My head spun; his hand moved reflexively to steady me, then halted halfway. His restraint made my chest ache more than if he had simply touched me.

"What happened after?"

"We swept the area. Their scent was already fading. They came in a circle, just like you said, and pulled back the moment he vanished."

"He wanted us to feel surrounded," I said softly. "Like Ash Hollow."

His eyes sharpened with regret—regret that he hadn't been able to prevent that parallel, that I had been forced to relive something he couldn't erase. "He's using fear against you. Against us."

"I didn't tell you that," I murmured. "My wolf did."

He huffed a quiet breath that might have been a laugh in any other circumstance. "You're both inconveniently insightful."

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Like cracked glass. Like if he held me closer I'd stop caring that I was broken.

"Tired," I said. "The usual 'your past is coming to kill you' hangover."

I shifted so my feet touched the floor. "What about the pack?"

"Rattled, but holding. Luca doubled patrols last night. I tripled them this morning."

"Tripled? You can't keep that up."

"I won't let him walk into our territory again without knowing we're watching."

Our territory. Not just his anymore.

"He's targeting you because of me," I said.

He didn't flinch. "He wants you, and he wants to hurt anyone who tries to keep you away. That doesn't mean you brought this here. It means he chose to follow you. Those are not the same thing."

It sounded reasonable when he said it. It didn't feel reasonable inside my chest.

"Are you planning to leave?" he asked quietly.

My wolf pressed hard against my chest. No.

My mind whispered the opposite.

"I'm planning to keep them alive," I said.

"Running didn't save Ash Hollow," he replied softly.

The words struck—not cruel, but true.

A rap sounded at the door. Luca stepped inside, looking like he hadn't slept: hair mussed, jaw shadowed, eyes sharp. His gaze tracked from Aiden to me and back again, lingering a fraction too long on the distance between us—as if measuring it, cataloguing it.

"Patrol reports are in. No fresh Ironclaw signs. But some of the wolves are talking."

"About what?" Aiden asked, voice cooling.

"That death follows her," Luca said bluntly. "That Ironclaw didn't come this close before she arrived. That maybe there's a reason every pack turned her away."

The words landed like blows. I had heard them in half a dozen territories. It still stung more here, where I had dared to hope it would be different.

"And what do you think?" I asked.

He held my gaze. "I think Ironclaw enjoys using you as a blade. That doesn't make you the one swinging it."

It was the closest thing to kindness he'd directed at me since I arrived.

"There's one more thing," Luca said. "Two younger warriors were asking if the Alpha is thinking clearly—having the cursed survivor so close to his side."

Aiden's shoulders went rigid. "What were their names?"

Luca told him.

"Keep the patrols running. I'll handle this."

His gaze flicked to me. "You deserve to know what's being said. You also deserve to know how I respond to it."

He left. His scent lingered like a promise.

Curiosity and dread pulled me outside. I moved quietly along the packhouse until I found a vantage point near the sheds.

Two young warriors stood near the stacked wood, speaking low.

"If Ironclaw's Alpha is greeting her like an old friend—"

"He didn't look friendly. More like she's unfinished business."

"Exactly. And now she's sleeping under his roof. If that doesn't cloud his judgment—"

"What about my judgment?" Aiden's voice cut in, smooth as a blade sliding from its sheath.

Both wolves stiffened.

He stepped into view, radiating enough presence that the space rearranged around him.

"Alpha—" one started, color draining.

"I invited her here. I gave her sanctuary. I chose to listen when she warned us. Those choices are mine. If you have questions about my judgment, you bring them to me directly."

"We meant no disrespect."

"You didn't mean to get caught. Disrespect was already there."

The second wolf shifted. "We're only worried for the pack."

"So am I. That is why I trust the wolf who has already survived what we are facing now."

Silence stretched.

"She isn't cursed," he added, voice softening to something deeply personal. "She is alive. That's the difference. And if any of you had been through what she survived, you would want someone to see that too."

Something in me loosened and tore at the same time.

"If you cannot accept that, you're free to leave Willow Ridge and search for a safer story somewhere else."

He didn't raise his voice once.

Both warriors lowered their heads. "We understand, Alpha."

He turned away, heading back toward the packhouse. For a breath I thought he might miss me tucked in the shadow of the wall.

He didn't.

Our eyes met—his dark, mine too bright. He didn't call me out for eavesdropping. Just held my gaze for a second longer, as if checking I was still intact, as if the sight of me standing there meant something he wasn't ready to name. Then he continued on.

My wolf pressed close, warmth blooming. He chose us. He chose us in front of them.

"I know." My throat burned. "That's exactly why I should go before I get him killed."

Coward, she growled softly. You cannot save him by leaving. You will only break both of us.

I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes as cold seeped through the wood into my spine. My fingers still trembled faintly from the aftermath of last night, from the weight of being held, from the ache of wanting something I had sworn never to want again.

Staying felt like inviting war into the heart of Willow Ridge.

Leaving felt like stepping back into the fire alone.

For the first time in a long time, I realized that no matter which path I chose, there would be no version of this where my heart walked away unscarred.