Chapter 92

Lucas’s POV

“The intruders entered through here,” Brandon says, leading me through what we now realize is a blind spot in our border. I duck beneath the low limbs of a tree and step into the straight of trees.

“It’s a narrow path between a patch of trees that most people would avoid,” I mutter, touching one of the trees. I don’t even need to extend my arms all the way to touch the tree on my left and the tree on my right. “But if you’re sneaking in, this would be a good spot. Did no one see it while patrolling?”

I look at Brandon, and he looks away sheepishly.

“We’d made note of it recently but didn’t think anyone would use it before we could really check it out,” he answers and rubs the back of his neck.

Nodding, I turn and survey the area before addressing Brandon again, “Make sure this spot is covered in the future patrols, but also have the men check to see if there are any other blind spots like this.”

“I’ve already shifted the patrols to cover this area and one other we found this morning.”

Again, I nod and look around. If the intruders hadn’t been caught by our current patrols, they could have made it much further into my territory. Harper is safe inside, but now I know that she’s not likely to stay inside.

Her little escape into the forest due to her curiosity could have ended much worse than it did.

Sighing, I rub at the ache in my side. The claw marks there have healed, but it’s almost like I can still feel them. I have a feeling that has something to do with the growing worry for Harper’s safety.

The day moves by in a blur of new schedules, orders, patrol rotations, and questions from my men. The longer I speak with them, the more my mind wanders. I should be focused on the possibility of another breach, but I find myself constantly distracted.

By my mate.

By Harper.

Trying to push her out of my mind isn’t working, and every time I pass by the pack house, I find myself wondering what she’s doing. I can’t see my room from outside, but that doesn’t stop me from looking up at the building. It doesn’t stop my wolf from urging me to go check on her.

She’s become a whirlwind that tugs at me, pulling me deeper and closer to her.

Ever since Logan confirmed what I’d already suspected, it’s been impossible to think of anything else. She’s my mate, the woman I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with that was chosen for me by the Goddess herself.

And yet, she isn’t.

I can’t let her go, though, because I can feel our bond. It grows more each day, and each time I’m near her, I can feel it flare to life beneath my skin, like a living thing that wants to reach out to her.

When she doesn’t respond to the bond, it coils up tightly in my chest. The pain is piercing, and I wonder if she can feel it too. Without Sierra and Logan dosing us with their potions, there’s nothing dulling the natural bond.

But if that’s true, why hasn’t Harper brought up the bond or the mate mark?

Logan swore she was the girl I marked, and I could tell from Sierra’s angry screams as she left that Logan was right. She said she didn’t want to give me up to her sister and that I would regret what I’ve done.

Even with that, I’m not sure what to think because I’ve seen Harper’s neck where I supposedly marked her. There’s nothing there.

I know Harper was looking for a way to remove the mate mark and bond, but she hasn’t. I can still feel the bond pulsing between us. Sometimes, in those quiet moments between us, I think she feels the pull of the bond. I can see it in the way she watches me for slightly too long or the way she leans into my touch when she’s distracted. There’s also the way her breath shifts when she’s near me or the quick, wild beat of her heart when I get too close.

Then, when she realizes all these things, she pulls her guard up and hides behind her anger.

Is it because she doesn’t have a wolf?

I grit my teeth as I finish up my last perimeter patrol and head back to the pack house. The thought of our bond not growing, because of her missing wolf, eats at me. Without her wolf, maybe she doesn’t feel the bond the same way I do.

A terrifying thought, but maybe she doesn’t feel the bond at all.

No, that can’t be right. She threw herself into danger last night because she saw that I was in danger. If she didn’t feel anything for me, she wouldn’t have stepped in. I shove a hand through my hair and comb it back out of my face as I think of the time I’ve known Harper.

Falling for her was as easy as breathing. It happened so fast and quicker than I understand. Before I knew she was my mate, I was prepared to choose her over anyone else.

I still am.

Harper is the woman I choose, mate bond or not.

By the time I make it back to the pack house, I can feel my body beginning to ache from the all-day patrols that I don’t normally do. I need to shower, eat, and then sleep, but instead of taking me to the guest room I’ve been living in temporarily, my feet carry me toward my room.

Toward my mate.

Honestly, after keeping her here for a few days, I expect the room to be empty. I expected her to leave my room and go back to her room days ago, but when I push the door open, she’s here.

I stop short, my breath catching as I look at her.

Curled up on my bed, with a book in her lap, Harper sits under the covers. Her hair spills out of the bun on top of her head as she reads. I let my eyes run over her, but they snag on the sweater she’s wearing—the sweater I left for her this morning that I slept holding last night so my scent would be on it.

Our scents mix in the room, and it instantly calms me. The exhaustion of the day slips away, and I quietly move to the bed. The sight of her in my space sends warmth through me, and my wolf purrs in satisfaction.

Before I can stop myself, I sink onto the mattress beside her. Harper stiffens, but she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t even look up from her book.

For a moment, I let myself sit here. I lean back against the pillow, my arm brushing hers lightly, as the heat from our bodies radiates between us. The bond hums to life in my chest, urging me to get closer.

When I speak, my voice comes out low and breathy, “Interesting book?” Yes, it’s a stupid question, but it’s all I can come up with that won’t make her angry.

She turns the page with slow, soft movements. “Yes.”

I hold my breath, waiting for her to move away, to tell me to leave, but she doesn’t. Instead, she continues reading as if I’m not even here. Being ignored shouldn’t feel like progress, but it does.

“Do you feel safe now?” I find myself interrupting the calm silence.

Harper pauses, her hands going still before she closes the book. Again, I prepare myself to be told to leave, but she surprises me. She lifts her head and looks directly into my eyes. It’s still not the way she used to look at me, but at least I don’t see anger or hate in her eyes.

“For now,” she says quietly.