Chapter 4

The apartment was dark when I returned.

No lamps burned in the sitting room, and the hearth had long since gone cold. The stale scent of yesterday's meal lingered in the air, mixed with the faint sourness of something forgotten in the kitchen. I did not bother lighting a candle. After everything that had happened, darkness felt more comforting than warmth ever could.

I left my traveling cloak near the door and lowered myself onto the couch, still wearing the healer's loose garments beneath it. The cloth rubbed against the bandages around my wounds, but I was too exhausted to care. I closed my eyes and surrendered to sleep.

It was not a peaceful sleep.

Pain has a way of following you into dreams, and sometimes the wolf within us remembers truths that the heart is still unwilling to accept.

Several hours later, I woke to the sound of movement from the kitchen.

At first, I thought it was nothing more than the settling of the old wooden house, but then came the unmistakable scrape of a knife against a cutting board.

I slowly sat up.

My body protested immediately, every wound pulling beneath the healers' bandages as I rose. I walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the scent of cooked meat.

When I stepped through the doorway, I stopped.

Joseph stood beside the hearth, tending to a pan of meat over the flames, while Andrew stood at the long wooden table slicing vegetables. A meal had been prepared for three, complete with polished plates, goblets, and folded linen.

Both men turned when they heard me.

Joseph's expression changed first.

“We thought you had gone to your aunt's house,” he said, almost awkwardly. “We did not wish to disturb you.”

Andrew lowered his knife.

“We did not know you were in the healers' ward.”

I stared at them.

“You did not know?”

Neither answered.

I pulled out a chair and sat down.

Joseph quickly removed the pan from the fire.

“You should eat, Natalie. You have only just returned from the healers.”

I looked at the meal before me.

Then I looked at him.

“You did not come looking for me.”

His brow furrowed.

“What?”

“I was in the healers' ward for seven days.”

The room fell silent.

“You did not send a messenger,” I continued, keeping my voice even. “You did not ask the pack healers whether I had survived. You did not even wonder where I was after leaving me alone in the rain.”

Joseph's lips parted, but no answer came.

Andrew lowered his gaze.

Before either could speak, a knock sounded at the door.

The two brothers exchanged a glance.

Andrew rose immediately.

“I will see who it is.”

I already knew.

He opened the door, and Sarah stood upon the threshold.

She looked delicate enough to break beneath the night wind. Her wrists were wrapped in fresh bandages, and her pale dress made her appear almost ghostlike beneath the lantern hanging beside the entrance.

The moment Joseph saw her, he forgot everything else.

He crossed the room and gathered her into his arms.

“Sarah, you should not be walking around so soon.”

She rested her head against his shoulder.

“I was frightened.”

Joseph carried her to the couch and settled her carefully against the cushions.

“What happened?”

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.

“I was alone in the healers' ward, and I kept thinking about what might happen if I closed my eyes and never opened them again. I know it sounds foolish, but I could not bear being alone tonight.”

Joseph brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“You should have sent word.”

“I did not want to trouble you.”

“You could never trouble me.”

Andrew approached them.

“We will take you back to the healers' ward after we make certain Natalie is settled. Someone should remain with you tonight.”

Sarah gave a weak smile.

“You both have already done so much.”

I sat at the table and listened.

No one noticed when I picked up my fork.

The meat Joseph had prepared was overcooked on the outside and still raw near the center. It was the very meal I had always disliked, something he had known since we were young.

He had forgotten.

Or perhaps he simply no longer cared enough to remember.

I forced myself to eat anyway.

Across the room, Joseph and Andrew arranged cushions behind Sarah's back and urged her to take some food. She accepted their attention with the ease of someone who had never doubted she deserved it.

Every so often, she glanced toward me.

Her expression remained gentle, but there was something victorious in her eyes.

My wolf stirred uneasily.

Then I felt the familiar pull of the mindlink.

Natalie?

It was my mother's voice.

I opened the link.

Your father has chosen several gowns for the wedding. The seamstress sent the sketches ahead. I thought you would want to see them.

Images entered my mind one after another: ivory silk, embroidered sleeves, long trains, delicate veils, and gowns adorned with Natalies and silver thread.

I examined them silently until one caught my attention.

A simple ivory gown with a fitted bodice, long sleeves, and a flowing train.

I like the third one, I told her.

My mother sounded delighted.

I knew you would. Your father was afraid you might change your mind about the ceremony.

I looked across the room.

Joseph was still tending to Sarah.

Andrew was pouring her water.

I smiled faintly.

I will not change my mind.

My mother's voice softened.

Are you certain, sweetheart?

More certain than I have ever been.

She hesitated.

How much longer will you remain there?

Only until the end of the week. I will return home afterward.

Good. Everything is nearly prepared. Your father has already sent word to the other pack. Your future mate's family has agreed to the ceremony beneath the Moonstone.

My heart gave one strange beat at the thought.

My future mate.

Until now, those words had frightened me.

Tonight, they sounded like freedom.

I am looking forward to the wedding, I said.

My mother laughed softly.

Then I shall tell your father. He will be very pleased.

When the mindlink ended, I lowered my gaze to my plate.

For several heartbeats, no one spoke.

Then I sensed it.

The room had gone unnaturally still.

I looked up.

Joseph was staring at me.

Andrew stood behind him, his brows drawn together.

Even Sarah had stopped pretending to eat.

Joseph was the first to speak.

“Wedding?”

I said nothing.

He took a step toward me.

“What wedding?”

Andrew followed him, his voice lower but no less tense.

“You said you were looking forward to your wedding.”

I slowly placed my fork beside my plate.

“Yes.”

Joseph's face tightened.

“To whom?”

For the first time that night, I allowed myself to smile.

“That,” I said calmly, “is none of your concern.”