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Chapter 3—The Calm Before the Storm Breaks
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2025-02-10 20:28:48The walk back to their house was quiet.
The village had settled in for the night, the warm glow of lanterns flickering in windows, casting long shadows across the forest path. The crisp Montana air carried the scent of pine and damp earth, but underneath it all, Willow still smelled blood. The rogue attack lingered in her mind like a dull ache. Nova had retreated, slipping into the back of her consciousness to give her space. Atlas had done the same for Theo. It was just them now. Theo walked beside her, his blue eyes sharp even in the dim light. He hadn’t said much since they left the warriors, but Willow felt him—felt his concern pressing against the bond they shared. They reached their cabin a few minutes later, the cozy wooden structure nestled among the trees. Inside, the scent of cedar and leather greeted her, grounding in its familiarity. Theo shut the door behind them, locking it out of habit. Willow exhaled. “I’ll make dinner.” Theo smirked. “You’re actually going to cook?” She shot him a glare. “I do cook sometimes.” He held up his hands in mock surrender, his lips twitching. “Fine. I’ll set the table.” Dinner was simple—steak, seared to perfection, with a side salad that Willow knew Theo would ignore. Sure enough, when they sat down, Theo immediately reached for the steak, expertly cutting into the tender meat. Willow raised a brow. “You forgot something.” Theo didn’t even look up. “I didn’t forget.” She stabbed a piece of lettuce and pointed her fork at him. “Eat your salad, Theo.” He finally glanced up, smirking. “No.” Willow narrowed her eyes. “I will throw this at you.” He popped another piece of steak into his mouth. “You wouldn’t waste food like that.” She huffed and stabbed a tomato off his untouched plate, making a dramatic show of eating it. “You’re setting a terrible example for the pack.” “They can eat their salads. I’ll eat what I actually want.” Willow rolled her eyes but let it go, focusing on her own food. Theo watched her as he ate, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. She knew he was waiting—for her to talk, for her to admit that the note was still gnawing at her. She wasn’t ready to. So she focused on dinner, on the simple comfort of a warm meal shared with her mate. Afterward, Theo put on a movie, some action flick he’d seen a hundred times but still enjoyed. Willow curled up next to him on the couch, her head resting against his chest, but she wasn’t paying attention. Her mind kept circling back to the note. “The one with the fire hair. The wolf with two souls. She is the key. Find her. Bring her. Or he will come.” A shiver ran through her. Theo shifted beside her. “You’re thinking about it.” Willow exhaled. “I can’t help it.” His arms tightened around her, his thumb brushing idly against her arm. “We’ll figure it out.” Her frustration flared. “That’s just it, Theo. We don’t know anything. We don’t know who ‘he’ is, we don’t know why the rogues are looking for me, and we don’t know what the hell any of it means.” Theo was quiet for a moment. Then, he tilted his head down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I don’t like not knowing either. But we’re not alone in this, Willow. We’ll find answers. And until then…” His lips brushed lower, just beneath her jaw, and a small shiver ran down her spine. She swallowed hard. “Until then?” Theo smirked against her skin. “I can think of a few ways to help you stop thinking.” Her pulse jumped. Something shifted between them, the weight of her frustration curling into something else entirely—something heated and raw. She turned in his arms, meeting his gaze, and then she kissed him. Theo responded instantly, his hand sliding into her hair, pulling her closer. His lips were warm and insistent, stealing every thought from her mind. She pressed against him, straddling his lap as his hands gripped her waist. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and he groaned into her mouth. The movie was forgotten. Everything else was forgotten. There was only this. Only him. His hands moved, slipping beneath her shirt, his palms warm against her bare skin. Her breath hitched as he trailed his lips down her neck, his teeth scraping just slightly—just enough to make her gasp. She tugged his shirt over his head, and he wasted no time doing the same for her. There was a brief moment of stillness, their eyes locking, a silent acknowledgment of what was about to happen. Then, Theo moved, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifted her, guiding her back down onto the couch. Willow gasped as his lips claimed hers again, and the world melted away. Theo devoured her mouth with his as he pushed down her jeans with one hand, the other massaging her breasts. Willow shoved his pants down and threw them behind her, not caring where they landed. She slid her hands around his neck, down his back, drawing him close with a moan. Finally, Theo sank into her with a groan. She gasped at the sheer pleasure and dug her nails into his back as he began to move. When it was over, she was exhausted, her body spent and tangled with Theo’s. He pressed a lazy kiss to her temple before scooping her up effortlessly, carrying her toward their bedroom. She hummed sleepily against his chest. “You know, I can walk.” “I know.” She didn’t argue. Theo set her down gently in bed, slipping in beside her, his arms wrapping around her once more. She felt safe here. Warm. For the first time that night, the anxiety in her chest faded. But it didn’t last. Willow woke before the sun had even begun to rise. Her heart was pounding, an unfamiliar dread sitting heavy in her stomach. She lay still for a moment, trying to push it away, trying to breathe. Theo was still sound asleep beside her, his arm draped over her waist. His warmth usually soothed her, but right now…it wasn’t enough. She ran a hand over his forearm, feeling the sparks that always ignited between them. Nothing. The anxiety didn’t fade. Damn it. Carefully, she slipped out of bed, grabbing a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved shirt before stepping outside. The air was cool, the forest eerily quiet. She needed to run. She shifted smoothly, Nova taking over with ease. The wolf didn’t question the decision. She just ran. Willow kept to the border, stopping occasionally to check in with the warriors on patrol. Everything seemed normal. Until it wasn’t. She caught the scent first—faint, but wrong. Nova bristled. Rogues. Willow’s heart slammed against her ribs. She sniffed the air again, confirming it. The scent was fresh. They were close. She mind-linked the warriors instantly. “Rogues. South border. Move now.” Then, she reached for Theo. “Theo—“ Pain. A blur of movement. Then nothing. When Theo woke, the bed was cold. Something was wrong. Then, the mind-link hit him. Not from Willow. From Luka. “Alpha! It’s Luna! The rogues—“ Theo was already out of bed, his heart slamming against his ribs. “Where is she?” Luka’s voice was tense. “Gone.” Theo’s blood turned to ice.
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