2. Friend's human sister
1892 Words
Ronan
The trees thin out near the edge of town, but I stay back where the shadows are thick, and the pine needles swallow the sound of my boots. The diner’s neon sign buzzes against the late afternoon gloom. Grease, burnt coffee, sugar—human scents cling to the air like damp wool.
And beneath it all, her.
Aria.
My wolf shifts under my skin, a low rumble vibrating in my chest.
She’s trouble.
I know. But we can't keep Liam from seeing her while she's in town for the funeral.
I track Liam’s heartbeat through the diner wall.
Steady.
Controlled.
Too controlled.
It's the careful subjugation of emotions one gives when he's getting ready to face an intruder in the middle of the night.
The preparation for anything.
He’s been there twenty-three minutes. Long enough for coffee, a quick meal, and hopefully, long enough for goodbye.
Aria tried to question him, and he defected. It wouldn't stop the reopening of old wounds, though.
The door chimes.
Liam steps out, shoulders tight, jaw locked. He pauses on the sidewalk without looking toward the tree line.
“You can come out now.”
He says it too low for the humans on the patio to hear. My wolf huffs at their muted senses.
They don’t see me step from between the trees. They don’t notice the way the wind bends subtly around me, carrying their words whether I want it to or not.
I fall into step beside him.
“How was it?” I ask.
He cuts me a look. Not angry. Just tired. “Are we going to pretend you weren’t listening to every word?”
My jaw tightens in an attempt to hold in a smirk.
It’s true. Wolf shifters hear better than humans. Not just better—deeper. I heard the tremor beneath Aria’s voice when she said, “Tell me anything?”
The way Liam’s heart rate slowed in relief when she changed the subject.
It’s not hard to hear conversations a few feet away. Especially for an Alpha.
Wolf shifters sense ten times that of a human, and as an Alpha mine are even more so.
What’s hard is not hearing them.
Most of us only spend the time we need to be around humans. Their noise presses in from all sides—thoughtless confessions, petty lies, the rhythm of blood beneath fragile skin, the scent of their consistent shifting emotions.
It’s exhausting to tune it out even for an experienced shifter. And for the juveniles, it's so overwhelming that it's not uncommon for them to have physical reactions to it.
It's even more tedious controlling our wolf half's natural reaction.
It's like muting ourselves.
Necessary, though.
“I know you don’t like this—” I start.
“It’s fine,” Liam says, cutting me off as he pulls open the door to his truck.
It isn’t fine.
I circle the hood and climb into the passenger seat. The engine roars to life, gravel crunching under tires as we pull onto Astral Lane.
Silence stretches between us. Not empty. Weighted.
My wolf settles the moment we pass the old boundary marker carved into stone. The air shifts. Pine and cedar grow richer. The hum beneath my skin evens out.
Home.
As Alpha, the pack lands are my sanctuary. My burden. My purpose. Every cabin tucked between trees with miles of roaming room between and around all belongs to our pack and our ancestors before us.
“No, it’s not,” I say quietly.
Liam grips the steering wheel harder.
I scent it then—distress, sharp and metallic beneath his usual cedar-and-smoke. It spikes the air.
“But it will be once she is gone,” I continue, gently reminding him of what has to happen.
His head snaps toward me. “Ronan.”
I don’t flinch.
“She can’t stay.”
“She’s not staying.”
“She’s digging. In some respects, that's worse. You know what will happen to her if she finds something she can't un-know, something she can't un-see.”
His jaw flexes. He doesn’t deny it.
We pass the first cabins, smoke curling from chimneys. A couple of the younger wolves are sparring near the tree line. They straighten as we drive by.
Finally, Liam exhales. “It just sucks that I have to sit there and let her believe the worst of me. Let her think I don’t care.”
An image rises unbidden.
Blue-grey eyes flashing. Sharp tongue. Chin tilted up at me like she didn’t sense the predator in the room.
Most humans hesitate around us. Around me. Their instincts whisper danger even if their minds don’t understand it.
Not Aria.
She’d stood in that cemetery, told me to “get out of her business.”
My pack had gone still. Shock rippling through them like a stone dropped in water.
My wolf had surged forward.
She challenges us.
She’s human.
Unacceptable.
She will know it, but now is not the time.
That calmed him. Me too, if I’m being honest.
“If I could change it, I would,” I tell Liam. “But never forget your pack is here for you. We will stand with you through anything.”
It sounds almost gentle. It isn’t.
It’s the law.
My pack comes before anything.
Before comfort. Before desire.
Before a human girl with reckless freckles and a stubborn mouth.
We pull up in front of my house. Liam parks but doesn’t kill the engine right away.
“You think she’ll leave?” he asks.
“Yes.”
And if she doesn’t, I’ll make sure she does.
He nods once. Accepting the command beneath the tone.
I open the door, step out, then pause. “I still expect you for dinner.”
His eyes flick to mine.
It’s phrased softly.
It’s not a suggestion.
“I’ll be over at six.”
He drives off toward his own cabin, dust trailing behind him.
I watch until the truck disappears between the trees.
He’s hurt. Both losses will affect him, my wolf assesses.
I know.
And you would send away the one thing that eases it.
She tears at scars that haven’t healed. Her ignorant words don’t help either.
My wolf rolls his eyes. You fear what she does to you more.
I don’t respond to that.
Inside, my house is quiet. Wood beams, stone hearth, the faint scent of old books and smoke.
Sanctuary.
I head straight to the library.
The letter sits on my desk where I left it.
Cream paper—official seal.
The Assembly.
I break the seal again, though I’ve already memorized every word.
We have been informed of the unfortunate circumstance of the death of one, Loarin Vale. Due to the nature of the relation to Liam Vale, consultants of the Assembly have been dispatched to ensure relations with the humans of Blackridge and the pack’s stability during its time of grief.
My wolf rises instantly, hackles up. They do not care about the pack. They wish for something else.
They always say it’s for protection, but the only one they want to protect is themselves.
Each new law is dressed in safety. Each new restriction chips away at pack autonomy. At the ultimate authority and divine designation of the Alpha and shifter hierarchy.
My wolf lets out a disgusted growl. Submissives are trying to gain power.
I agree.
Curfews. Movement logs. Mandatory reporting of human entanglements.
Why would they want to check on Liam after the death of his human mother? They never expressed interest in similar deaths as far as I’ve known.
Unless they know something about his father.
Something they didn’t share during guardianship hearings.
The thought coils tight in my gut.
Great. Even more reason to get Aria out of town.
If the Assembly is sniffing around and she’s asking questions, that’s a collision waiting to happen.
Another image flashes.
Her hair cascading down her back, dark and thick. The faint scatter of freckles across her nose. The way her pulse jumps in her throat when she’s angry.
I shove the thought aside.
I shouldn’t be thinking of a human that way.
It never ends well.
I scent Barric before he knocks. Spice and iron, and the faint earthiness associated with wolf.
I tuck the letter into my jeans and head downstairs.
He walks in carrying a tray of marinated meat like he owns the place.
His piercing grey eyes scan me.“I came early to help.”
“That tracks,” I say.
He grins. “You look like you swallowed a thorn.”
“Assembly sent a letter.”
His expression hardens instantly. “About what?”
“Liam.”
He sets the tray down carefully. “That’s not normal.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Barric studies me. I can tell from his posture that he is already putting together all possible scenarios of the Assembly's little outreach.
He places the tray on the kitchen counter. “How’s he doing?”
“About as good as you can expect.”
Barric sucks his teeth. “Yeah. Aria doesn’t make it easy, does she?”
I stiffen before I can stop myself.
Is that…fondness in his tone?
“You can’t expect a human to understand,” he continues. “Doesn’t matter. He’s got the pack. We just need to remind him of that.”
“She’s going to dig into her mother's death,” I say.
Barric’s brows draw together. “How do you know?”
“Heard them talking in the diner. She doesn't seem convinced by the passing traveler theory.”
He huffs a laugh. “Creep.”
“Necessary.”
My wolf shifts, restless.
“And if she uncovers something the Assembly buried?” Barric asks quietly.
“That’s exactly what I’m considering.”
Silence settles heavily between us.
Barric leans against the counter. “You thinking of accelerating her departure?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
I don’t answer immediately.
There are options. None of them will end on a good note.
“She has a job in the city,” Barric says slowly. “Friends. It shouldn't be that hard to convince her to go back.”
“She’s stubborn,” I admit.
He almost smiles at that. “I’ve noticed.”
I like it, my wolf says
Of course you do.
You are drawn to it.
I don’t dignify that with a response.
Barric watches me too closely. “Careful, Alpha. We walk a fine line between curiosity and risk.”
“I know.”
“Hmm.”
My gaze snaps to his. A quiet warning.
He raises his hands. “Just saying. Humans complicate things.”
“They do.”
And yet her scent lingers in my mind like smoke.
I push away from the counter.
“Start the grill,” I tell Barric. “Dinner’s at six.”
He nods, grabbing the tray. “You had better made thoe load potatoes from last time.”
As he steps outside, I move to the window. The pack lands stretch before me, dappled in late light. Cabins. Trails.
Wolves moving in easy rhythm.
Mine to protect.
Mine to command.
Mine to sacrifice for.
I will not let Aria or the Assembly come in the middle of that.
- Writer
