Milton leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a slight smirk on his lips. "That went well," he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. His gaze shifted from the door to Luca, still brooding at his desk. "She's head over heels for you."

  Luca stood abruptly, his voice cracking as he paced the room, and the beast beneath his skin stirred—sensing her absence, her scent lingering in the air "I can't believe this is really happening."

  Luca slammed his fist onto the desk. "Fuck. I don't know how I'm supposed to do this."

  Just as Milton was about to try and lighting his mood, Emlyn stepped in, his keen eyes scanning the room.

  He took one look at Luca and Milton, piecing together the tension in an instant. "I missed it, didn't I?" Huffing slightly, the Gamma appeared mildly disgruntled. "Why do interesting shit always happen while I'm on patrol?" he grumbled, shaking his head.

  That did earn a faint smile from Luca.

  "Well, how did it go?" Emlyn asked eagerly after missing a beat.

  "Well enough," Milton replied with a shrug. "If you consider riling up your mate a good way to start off."

  Emlyn's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he turned sharply to Luca. "You didn't."

  "He did," Milton confirmed, far too amused. "Clark had to step in before they tore each other's heads off."

  Luca rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply as his nails dug into his palms, a silent reminder of the wolf's agitation beneath his skin.

  "She wouldn't stop talking about her mate," he spat, venom dripping from the word. It enraged him. His fingers twitched, itching to curl around something—her wrist, her waist, the curve of her hip—anything to remind her that she belonged elsewhere. His wolf coiled inside him, burning, starving. He shoved his hands through his hair instead, tugging slightly at the roots. "And fuck, she smelled so good and so damn close, and I just—"

  His wolf threw the craving at him like a tidal wave, raw and undeniable. His little mate, beneath his fingertips, her heat against his mouth, her pulse fluttering against his tongue as he tasted the delicate skin at her throat. His teeth grazing, dragging, teasing—

  Luca exhaled sharply, a tremor running through his hands. Fuck. He pressed his fingers against his temples, forcing the vision away, but the hunger still crawled beneath his skin, gnawing at him. "I think I'm losing my mind."

  "No, you're not." Milton said, his tone softening as he rested a hand on Luca's shoulder, the gesture intended to be reassuring. "It's the bond. It's intense at first. You'll adjust."

  Luca let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and sharp. "Adjust," he echoed, the word tasting like ash.

  Emlyn stepped closer, his gaze flicking between them. "So she doesn't feel the bond, then? Just like Clark feared?"

  Milton's expression grew more serious. "And she's convinced that other male is her mate."

  Luca kept his expression unreadable, but inside, his wolf stirred—a low growl curling at the edges of his mind. The mention of the other male was like a thorn buried under his skin, festering, demanding to be torn out. His wolf paced, restless, pushing against the walls of his control.

  Emlyn's voice dragged him back to his office. "How do you know?"

  Luca didn't lift his head, his voice low and simmering with frustration. "It's the way she talks about him," he said, his words clipped. "Like she can't ever wish him dead, no matter what he's done. Like she'll always owe him something." His hands fell over his face. Like he'll always own a piece of her, his mind added bitterly.

  Emlyn glanced toward the door. "Maybe we should wait for Clark—"

  "Speak of the devil," the doctor chimed in, striding into the office. "Don't worry, our precious Rosie is resting in her room." He turned a sharp look at Luca. "And I wasn't kidding, Luca. Don't push her too hard in training tomorrow, or she'll end up injuring herself."

  "Training, huh?" Emlyn cut in with a raised brow. "Since when are you in charge of training? Should I expect to see you out on the field tomorrow?"

  Milton chuckled as Luca rolled his eyes. "Relax, Em," Milton teased. "Luca's going to want her all to himself for at least a few weeks. He won't be breathing down your neck anytime soon." Milton smirked. "Well, not until she joins your practice, that is."

  Luca let out a loud sigh, his gaze snapping upward in irritation. He groaned, rubbing his temples. "If you're done entertaining yourselves, can we get to the point? Clark, your opinion?"

  The doctor straightened. "Just how I worried." He took a seat across from Luca, his expression grave. "She seems immune to the bond. It complicates things."

  Not possible. His wolf snarled, baring invisible teeth, the need to assert dominance rising like wildfire. She was meant to feel it. She was supposed to know.

  Luca's jaw tightened as he leaned forward. "But she looked me up. I saw it in her eyes. Something was happening."

  Clark shook his head slowly, his tone measured. "That was not the bond. She finds you attractive. Good. In a sense, you were made to please her. But it's not the same thing."

  Luca's nails dug into the armrest, his fingers twitching as his wolf clawed at the surface. His breathing slowed—controlled, forced—but beneath the calm, his muscles tensed, the beast inside him barely restrained. "I just don't understand. The bond is supposed to be," he trailed off, searching for the right word, "absolute."

  Clark nodded slowly. "It is absolute, but there's a catch. Rosie's unresponsiveness to your bond isn't natural; it's conditional. From what I can tell, she's already accepted the claim of this other male, whether consciously or not. In her mind—and therefore her body—that claim is what she recognizes as the bond."

  Emlyn frowned, leaning closer to the doctor. "But it's not a true bond, is it? It's just a claim."

  Clark tilted his head. "Correct. It's a one-sided act, binding only in the eyes of the one who makes it. But here's the tricky part: the body responds to what the mind believes. If she thinks that male is her mate, her body will treat his claim as valid, even though the soul bond she has with Luca exists on a deeper level."

  "So, what does that mean for me?" Luca growled, his fists clenching.

  "It means she can't bear two claims at once. If you want to complete the bond with her, she'll have to reject the first claim entirely. That's not just an emotional decision—it's physical. Her body and mind will need to push that claim out, to sever it completely."

  The words hit like ice water, but it was his wolf that reacted first—a violent, primal rejection burning through his blood. The beast snarled, pressing against the edge of his control, its fury tangible. Claim. Protect. Take.

  Milton leaned back, crossing his arms. "And how does that happen? She'll just wake up one day and realize the bond was there all along?"

  Clark shook his head. "It's not that simple. As far as we understand, she'll likely start feeling the bond with you," he looked pointedly at Luca, "as she begins rejecting the other claim. But we don't know for sure. It could be gradual—a growing awareness of the connection—or it might hit her all at once when the rejection is complete. There's no precedent for this—only theories."

  Emlyn glanced at Luca. "And what if she doesn't reject it?"

  Luca's fingers curled against the chair's armrest, tension rippling through his muscles. Rosie's look as she first took him in—soft, wary. He had seen the truth in her eyes then, the absence of recognition, the way she looked at him like a stranger.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  His wolf snarled, rejecting the memory, rejecting the thought.

  Luca forced his breathing to remain steady, though his wolf snarled against his ribs, pushing, demanding. He curled his fingers into fists beneath the desk, nails biting into skin. No. Not here. Not now.

  Luca swallowed hard, the words thick in his throat. "She has to." But for the first time, the certainty wavered—just for a second, just enough to make his wolf snarl in warning. "She's my mate." He exhaled sharply, voice quieter now. "I'll make her see it."

  Clark's gaze softened. "You can't force her, Luca. The bond is built on mutual acceptance. If she doesn't come to you willingly—if her soul doesn't recognize you as hers—it won't work. All you can do is be patient. Show her what it means to have a mate who cherishes her."

  Luca's wolf bristled. Patient? Hadn't he been patient enough? Waiting while she lay unconscious, waiting while she avoided his eyes, waiting as she spoke of another male?

  His jaw clenched, frustration coiling beneath his skin, his wolf's discontent thrumming through his veins, a pulsing reminder of what it wanted.

  And he wouldn't let anyone else keep what belonged to him.

  "We know she's yours," Clark said, but Luca could see he was only trying to calm the beast raging in him. "You just have to make her realize it."

  Pain thudded through his chest, and his wolf responded with a low, simmering growl—instinct curling around him, protective, primal. We will fix this. He exhaled slowly, grounding himself in that steady, relentless certainty. His wolf didn't understand doubt. Only resolve.

  "There's something one of the guards mentioned," Emlyn started, changing subject to Luca's relief. "He just remembered it—it was all so chaotic at the time. Her wolf is white. She must be from up North."

  Milton rubbed his jaw. "I've been reaching out to neighboring packs to try and find a lead on her identity. So far, nothing concrete, but I think we should bring her to the next Alpha meeting. Someone might recognize her. Besides, her presence could be useful—she knows more about rogue ways than we do."

  "Are we sure she was even born in a pack?" Emlyn asked.

  Clark didn't hesitate. "She must come from a pack. She's too comfortable with our facilities and customs to have lived her whole life in the wild."

  "And the pack? What do we tell them?" Emlyn pressed.

  "She's a rogue," Milton started. The word left a bitter taste in Luca's mouth. His wolf growled, unsettled. No. She was something else now. His. "There's no changing that, so stick to the story we made. She was taken by rogues when she was young, and now she's escaped. We're sheltering her until her family is found, or until she feels safe enough to move on."

  Luca nodded while Emlyn shifted uneasily, his gaze flicking between the men. "The pack will be wary after..." He trailed off, refusing to name it. "You'll have to address them, Luca. They need to hear you trust her and don't think she's a threat."

  "Good point," Luca said with a grim nod. "I'll talk to the pack tonight. And what about the guards? The ones who know about the bond—have they kept quiet?"

  "Only a handful know," Emlyn assured him. "They've been warned to keep it to themselves. I personally chose two of them to guard her." Luca nodded in approval. "They know the stakes. I've also been keeping an eye on rumors since she arrived. So far, nothing's slipped."

  "Good," Luca breathed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "She can't find out about the bond from someone else. The only people who need to know are you, your mates, and Briar. No mistakes."

  "Understood," Emlyn replied, his voice firm.

  "And whatever you do," Luca added, his tone darkening, "don't let my father hear a word of this."

  He burned his gaze in each man, making sure the stakes were clear.

  Only when he was pleased did Luca nod. "Good. You can go, let's take this a day at a time." As they were turning on their heels, he raised his voice again. "Tell Briar I want to talk to her, will you?"

  The room was quiet now, but his wolf's presence was loud—a steady, insistent presence in the back of his mind. It ached for her, a dull pain that mirrored his own restlessness. Luca closed his eyes, willing it away, but the wolf remained, a reminder of the bond he couldn't sever.

  How did he know it was her, when he gave order to save the rogue? Something in him had stirred; he had followed his guts, rushing to meet the rogue at the infirmary. That's how he found her: bloody and dying, naked on a metal tray, alone in a room of men. Her mate should have been there, at her side, Luca guilted himself over and over. But he hadn't; he was too uncontrollable to be left with her.

  But now, after those two weeks, he'd thought himself in control again. He had prepared himself, gotten used to the bond. He'd visited her every day while she was unconscious. He'd held her hand, brushed her hair, licked her wounds. He'd engraved in memory that beautiful face of hers, the straight bridge of her delicate nose with its slightly rounded tip, the softness of her lips, so kissable, the fullness of her eyelashes fluttering in her sleep, the diamond shape of her face perfectly fitting in his hands, and the silkiness of her long black hair, draping over her like a cape.

  Luca sank into his chair, running a hand down his face. The memory of her scent lingered in his mind, teasing him. He couldn't escape it, even if he tried. And worse, he didn't want to.

  He knew it by heart: eucalyptus, crisp, invigorating, slightly woody; rosemary, a hint of pine, spiciness crowning a robust, herbaceous scent; chamomile, subtle, soft, apple-like floral, with a mild, soothing undertone of hay and fruit; and most predominantly, sage, the slightly smoky and woody rich earthy aroma touched with warmth and dryness.

  So, Luca was prepared. He wasn't supposed to be so much affected by her, but clearly, he'd underestimated the difference between admiring his sleeping mate and seeing her gorging of life.

  He had never taken in how the subtle rosy blush adorning her cheeks when frustrated would please his wolf, nor how her full lips could gain a natural pink hue when she pinched them, making him want to capture them under his teeth. He hadn't thought of how every time she took a deep breath, her chest grew fuller, nor how fucking much he would like to see her in a pretty dress and still want to tear it off her.

  The wolf whispered images between his thoughts, pushing them deeper—her parted lips, the taste of her against his tongue, the slow drag of his teeth along the curve of her jaw. Just a taste, that's all he asked for. Just enough to satisfy the gnawing hunger curling inside him. But he knew the truth. It would never be enough.

  Luca clenched his fists, breath slow and measured, willing his body to ignore the pull. No. Not like this. He wouldn't lose himself to it. But fuck, the craving was relentless.

  She was everything and too much at the same time. How was he expected to control his primal, burning need for her?

  The door to his office swung open, ripping him away from sinful thoughts.

  Briar stepped inside, her sharp eyes instantly assessing him. As the Alpha's sister and one of the few who could match Luca's intensity, Briar was not someone who minced words. She closed the door behind her and crossed her arms, waiting for him to speak first.

  "Briar," Luca started, his tone carefully controlled. "I need your perspective."

  Her brows arched slightly. "On what? The rogue you've been brooding over? Or the pack, which is starting to wonder why their Alpha has suddenly gone soft?"

  Luca's jaw tightened, but he let the jab slide. "The latter," he let out through gritted teeth.

  Briar pinched her lips, considering her words. "Keep the story simple. She's a survivor, and she's here under your protection. Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me—or with you, if they're brave enough."

  A faint smile tugged at Luca's lips. His sister was fierce.

  "So, will you tell me how it went?" she asked, rising her eyebrows as she studied him.

  He pinched his lips, and it was all Briar needed to understand what had transpired.

  She opened her arms, letting her hands fall with her indignation. "You didn't tell her."

  He shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes.

  "Luca, you have to tell her!" Briar insisted, stepping closer.

  "No, Bree, I can't!" he snapped, his fist clenched against the desk. "She thinks she already has a mate, and she doesn't feel anything with me. I can't just go and tell her she's got it all wrong like she'll believe me," he trailed off, his jaw tightening. "And even if I did, it wouldn't change anything. We'd still be stuck. She can't have two claims on her. She needs to choose."

  Briar crossed her arms, her expression softening only slightly. "So, what now?"

  "I wait," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I wait and see if she falls for me."

  Briar arched a brow. "You won't try anything?"

  "She thinks herself mated," Luca muttered bitterly. "You should have seen her, defending him even after everything he did to her. I can't just waltz in there and kiss her."

  However much I'd like it, he added to himself silently.

  "She'd feel like she's betraying her so-called mate, and she already feels guilty enough as it is." He leaned back in his chair, exhaling heavily. "No, I won't try anything. I'll keep her close, and it'll have to be enough."

  Briar shook her head. Her lips pressed into a thin line, though her eyes softened.

  "Start small," she said, giving her unwanted advice anyway. "Earn her trust, step by step. Let her see you for who you are—not the Alpha, not the bond, but the man. And while you're doing that, remind the pack why they follow you. They need to see that you're still their Alpha, no matter what's happening with her."

  He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as Briar's words echoed in his mind. The man, not the Alpha.

  For the first time in years, Luca felt uncertain—not of his strength or his position, but of his ability to win over the one person who mattered most. He didn't just want Rosie to see him as her mate; he wanted her to choose him, to trust him, to believe in them.

  "That's not why I asked for you," Luca ended the discussion. "Will you bring her a plate for me?" he asked. "I want her to rest. She's been through enough stress today."

  Her eyes softened at her brother's demand. "I will."

  "And would you lend her something to wear?" She couldn't train in a dress, however much he liked the way it molded to her breasts. Luca shook off the vision. Now was not the time.

  "And tomorrow," he added, not bothering to wait for Briar's response, "after training, could you show her the grounds? She should start getting familiar with the place."

  Briar nodded as she turned toward the door.

  "And Bree?" He called as she paused at the doorframe. "Don't make trouble."

  Briar smiled faintly, though she hid it from her brother. "Never."

  She left the room her mind already racing. If Luca wouldn't make a move, then she'd have no choice but to play matchmaker. A little nudge here, a little push there—what were sisters for, after all?