Chapter 0326

I gulp down half the water bottle in one breath, then attack the food. "What's next?"

"There's a bus at 1 pm heading toward Montgomery, Alabama. We'll stop in a small town just past Montgomery tomorrow, rest for the night, then move toward Nashville the following day. After another night there, we'll push toward home. At this pace, we'll reach northern Georgia by week's end. Two nights in proper beds with real meals. I already called Adrian and filled him in. I'll update him again when we stop outside Montgomery."

After breakfast, Victor showers. We check out and return to the bus station. His eyes never stop scanning, watching for anything out of place. The ride toward Montgomery is long but quiet. I use the time to learn more about where we're going—and about the man who's now my mate.

"We're heading to my old territory—the Obsidian Moon Pack. I'd begun rebuilding it, offering sanctuary to wolves with nowhere else to go. You'd be surprised how many have stories like ours, Isolde. The borders were never empty for long."

"Are they still there now?" I ask, unsure what awaits us.

"Honestly? I don't know. It's been nearly a year. I left my Beta in charge when I stepped away as acting Alpha. We'll find out when we arrive."

We reach the town and secure a hotel room. A quick wash removes the grime of travel before we head out for dinner. Victor seems lighter after speaking with Alpha Adrian, hearing the red wolves have spread word that I'm marked and off-limits.

The steakhouse we choose feels surreal—the most normal night I've had since losing my mother. We talk. We laugh. With each passing hour, I see more of who Victor truly is: a protector. Had our paths crossed earlier, he would've sheltered my mother and me just as he does every lost soul he finds. He'd never call them strays, but that's what we were—wolves without a pack, without roots.

He doesn't realize he gives people what they've lost: safety. Belonging.

To him, it's simply what should be done. What he wished someone had done for a lone child years ago.

Hand in hand, we walk back to our room. At the door, he turns. "Tired?"

I shake my head.

He grabs the remote and sits on the bed, TV flickering to life. "Anything you want to watch?"

I have other ideas. Instinct guides me as I climb onto the bed—not beside him, but straddling his hips. My palms press against his chest as he looks up, that half-smile playing on his lips. "Something on your mind, Isolde?"

I nod. "You made me feel incredible the other night." My hands trail lower. "Now it's my turn."