12. Mai

The veranda of the Alpha House creaked under our weight as Ryan, Sam, Mason, and I sat in silence. Derek was sleeping. He and Tucker had been taken to the Bridgetown medical wing as soon as we got back. Sam had gone with them and returned about an hour later, saying Derek's wounds were superficial, and he was sleeping it off. Tucker was another story. We were waiting, hoping for good news about his condition. The recent battle kept replaying in my mind. Could we have done anything differently? It had been a chaotic dance of claws, teeth, and desperation.

Ryan reached out, gently inspecting my wounds.

"No more arguing. I need to clean these." He picked up a tube of salve that Shya had brought out earlier. She'd apologized and said the Pack doctor was seeing Tucker and Derek, but she'd be out afterward to check over our injuries. Ryan had wanted to clean my scratches right away, but I'd refused. I wanted to hear about Derek first. Thanks to our werewolf DNA, we healed pretty quickly, so I wasn't too worried about the state we were in. I was more concerned about Tucker right now.

Ryan's touch was tender but firm as he wiped a cloth across the cut from Elise on my arm that had reopened in the fight. I could feel his need to take care of me through our bond. He wanted this; his wolf needed this, to touch me, to make sure I was okay.

"Despite my warning that you should stay out of it, you should have seen yourself out there," Ryan said. "You were incredible, Mai."

"I was never going to listen to that when you were in danger," I replied. "I did what I had to. We all did."

Ryan didn't respond as he gently applied the salve across my skin. The world narrowed down to just the two of us.

"Yeah," he finally said, his voice heavy with something unspoken. "That"s something we"re going to have to work on. But it doesn"t mean it wasn't extraordinary."

I looked at him, and for a brief moment, I felt the pulse of love that throbbed through our bond. I knew we had our differences, knew we hadn't agreed on our roles or about what kind of Alpha pair we should be, but in that moment, I caught a flash of how it could be. If we'd just get out of our own ways and let the bond guide us.

"Tucker was brave," I said, my voice muted. The memory of his little body, all cut up from the bear attack, yet still standing between us and Ivan and Danni, yelling at us to stop fighting, brought a smile to my face.

Ryan's eyes sparkled with agreement. "He didn't hesitate for a second. He's a little warrior."

My thoughts swirled from Tucker's bravery to the complex tightrope of trust and acceptance that our being here demanded. Ryan must have sensed my turmoil because he reached out and held my hand in his.

"We'll find our way through this, Mai," he said.

We were in a tough situation, facing challenges that seemed insurmountable, but Ryan's belief in us, in our ability to lead and protect … it made me feel like maybe, just maybe, it was possible.

I squeezed his hand as the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the Alpha House.

Half an hour later, and there was still no news. Ryan and Sam were talking in low whispers on the edge of the veranda. Mason was staring out at the view, a grim look on his face.

I had to get him out of whatever place he was in his head.

"Hey," I said, nudging his knee with mine. "You okay?"

Mason blinked, focusing on me. "Yeah, I'm good. Just taking it all in, you know?"

I nodded, though something told me there was more going on beneath the surface.

"So …" I began, leaning back against the chair. "Shya seems nice."

Mason's eyes darted to mine, his expression snapping into neutral. "Sure," he said, his voice strained. "I guess."

I bit back a smile. Clearly, I had hit a nerve. Time to poke it a little more. "She's Michael's daughter, though. That could be … complicated."

Mason crossed his arms, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. "It's not complicated. She's the Alpha's daughter, nothing more."

"Doesn't seem that way to me," I pressed. "I see how you look at her."

Mason sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter how I look at her. She's off limits, end of story."

"Because she's Michael's daughter?"

"Partly, yes," Mason admitted. "But also because nothing can happen. We're guests here until we figure things out back home. Getting involved with someone, especially Michael's daughter, would be a bad idea."

He wasn't wrong—our situation here was temporary at best, and it was a bad fucking idea to rock the boat. We needed the Bridgetown Pack right now. They were open to offering us sanctuary, but the rift between our Packs went back decades. I wasn't convinced they'd be so open to one of us being involved with their equivalent of a Pack princess. Still, I'd seen the way Mason looked at her. If Shya was really Mason's mate, I knew first-hand the damage running from that bond could cause.

"What if she's your mate?" I asked, point blank.

Mason froze, his eyes widening fractionally. "She's not."

"But what if—"

"No," he cut me off sharply. "Don't even go there."

I held up my hands in surrender. "Hey, just looking out for you. Can't have our best fighter distracted, right?"

The corner of Mason's mouth quirked up in a reluctant half-smile. "Nice try. I know you're playing matchmaker."

"Maybe." I laughed. "But seriously, Mason. Promise me you won't shut this down just because it seems complicated. If she's really your mate, the bond won't let you ignore it forever. That never ends well."

Mason's expression turned thoughtful. "It's just attraction. Really, really strong attraction." He shook his head. "It's too risky to pursue anything here and now. Like I said, she's off limits."

I frowned, annoyed with the Shaw stubbornness. He was just like his brother, but I knew I couldn't push further. "Just don't write it off completely. Who knows what the future holds?"

"Maybe," he conceded. "For now, though, don't go planning the wedding just yet."

I laughed, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll stay out of it."

But privately, I hoped Mason would keep an open mind. Because from the way Shya had glanced his way when she thought no one was looking, the attraction was clearly not one-sided.

Ten minutes later, Michael strode out of the double doors. He came directly to Ryan and held out his hand. "Thank you, all of you, for saving my son. He would have died if you had not jumped in to protect him."

"It"s what anyone would have done," Ryan replied.

"How is Tucker doing?" I asked.

Michael turned to face me, his eyes haunted and drawn. It had been a close call with his son, and he knew it. "He'll be fine."

Relief flooded my body as Michael's words washed over me. Tucker was okay. My heart, which had been pounding with worry, slowed to a more normal rhythm.

"Tucker's a tough one," Michael continued, his voice tinged with pride. "Camille and Shya are looking after him. Knowing him, he'll probably try to escape within the hour."

A laugh escaped my lips, the tension breaking. "That sounds like Tucker."

"We're glad he's all right," Ryan said, his voice sincere.

"Thank you again," Michael said, his eyes meeting mine. The gratitude was genuine, and I could see the weight of worry lifting from his shoulders.

Ryan's brow furrowed. "What about the bear? Do you have an issue with them around here? Have there been any reports about this one before?"

Michael shook his head. "No, most bears don't like how we smell. They keep clear of our territory or pass through quickly. We haven't had a bear attack in over twenty years."

"It didn't smell or act like a normal grizzly," Ryan said. "You got any bear Shifters in the area?"

"You think it might be a Shifter?"

Ryan nodded. "It would explain his scent and why he attacked and didn't retreat when he was confronted with four werewolves."

Michael's face turned thoughtful. "I've not heard about any bear Shifters passing through recently. But I know Tristan had contacts with some of them up north. It's possible this bear has allied with Tristan and was sent here to test our defenses." Michael looked out at the woods beyond the Alpha House. "I'll organize a hunting party. See if we can track this bear down and find some answers."

The rustling of leaves caught my attention, and I turned to see Ivan emerging from the side of the house. His face was drawn, eyes narrowed, his body language screaming tension. My heart lurched; I knew what was coming.

Ryan's body stiffened next to me, his eyes locked on Ivan. Controlled anger emanated from him.

"Ivan," Ryan growled, his voice low and threatening. "What the fuck was that? You realize you injured my mate with your pig-headed impulsiveness."

Ivan marched up to Ryan, getting way too close for my liking. It was a show of dominance, and I wasn't sure Ryan would hold it together.

"Yeah, well, considering, at the time, I thought you and she had lured Tucker into the woods and put him in danger, you all got off lightly."

"Is that right?" Ryan replied, his voice suddenly calm. Uh-oh. This was not a good sign. "Coz to me, it looked like you rushed into a situation you didn't understand. Instead of evaluating, you saw Tucker hurt and jumped to conclusions. We all got hurt, and you put Tucker in further danger by starting a fight. You need to be aware of what's happening, Ivan. You need to use your head, even in wolf form. If you don't learn this, and fast, you're going to continue to put your Pack in danger, and next time, maybe you—or Tucker—won't be so lucky."

Ivan's jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with defiance. "I did what I thought was necessary. I protected my Pack."

"Your Pack did not need protecting," Ryan snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. "You acted without thinking."

"I acted without trust," Ivan shot back, his voice filled with bitterness. "We don't just trust outsiders here, you know. It's something you need to earn."

Ryan's eyes bore into Ivan, a challenge and a warning all in one. "We saved Tucker."

"And for that, I'm grateful," Ivan replied grudgingly, his voice softer but still edged with steel.

I could see the struggle in Ryan's eyes, the battle between anger and understanding. I knew he wanted to lash out, to make Ivan see reason, but he also knew that anger wouldn't solve anything.

"We will earn your trust," Ryan finally said, his voice steady and resolute. "We will prove that we are friends to the Bridgetown Pack, but you need to fight smarter, Ivan, before you get someone killed."

With a final, lingering glance at Michael, whose silence spoke volumes, Ivan turned and walked away.

"I'll have a word with Ivan," Michael said, watching his enforcer leave. "He is fiercely protective of his Pack, which is an attribute I highly value, but he can make mistakes, like today. He joined our Pack five years ago. His birth Pack was killed by a werewolf gang who infiltrated it, wanting the territory for their own. The gang injured one of their own, and he claimed sanctuary from Ivan's old Alpha. It was granted, but it was all a ruse. As soon as the werewolf was fit enough, he opened all the gates and let his gang in. Ivan was one of the few survivors. He is fantastically loyal to this Pack, but he doesn't trust easily, and he sees plots where there aren't any. And now, with what has happened with Tristan and Elise, Ivan is even more paranoid than usual."

I looked over at Ryan. Trust. Ivan was right. It was a fragile thing, easily broken, hard to rebuild. But it was vital. It was the foundation of everything we were trying to achieve.

And if I wanted this to work, we would have to build it, stone by stone, no matter how long it took.