Misguided Wolves

18. Whispers and Bonds

Weeks after the wedding, Sumner’s newfound joy was evident, his whistling echoing through Vargr’s halls. Yet tension simmered. Deborah and Mahni clashed, their discord straining the castle’s harmony. Deborah, acting as if already Luna, pushed changes, ignoring Sol’s decree that she and Sumner complete their Luna and Alpha training before he steps down. Sumner, fiercely protective of his mate, defended her blindly, even as she played the innocent, cowering behind him. This dynamic troubled everyone, especially Kate.

Kate recalled her last clash with Deborah. While Sumner was nearby, Deborah doused herself with a pitcher of water, then hurled the glass pitcher at Kate, who caught it on instinct. Deborah’s crocodile tears and trembling performance followed. “I-I don’t know what I did to make you hate me,” she sobbed, clinging to Sumner. “I’m sorry…”

Before Kate could explain, Sumner roared, “Get out of our sight! If you weren’t Elliott’s mate, you’d be punished!” Devastated, Kate fled, tears streaming, overhearing Deborah’s lie that she’d only tried to befriend Kate, who “attacked” her. The betrayal stung—Kate had begun to see Vargr as family, yet they demonized her.

Since then, she avoided Sumner and Deborah, her heart heavy. Deborah’s charm won over many omegas and castle staff, who whispered vicious rumors: Kate was unfaithful to Elliott, a spy for Fror. At first, Kate defended herself, but it only worsened the gossip. The same faces that once greeted her warmly now turned cold. The worst were those who feigned kindness, like Ella, a young omega with emerald eyes, light brown hair pinned up, and curves that drew attention. Ella’s angelic facade fooled Kate into believing they were friends. Ara warned her, but Kate dismissed it as paranoia until she overheard Ella telling another maid Kate “prostituted herself” for intel to send Fror, a vicious lie.

When Ella noticed Kate, her smile turned syrupy, but Kate saw it never reached her eyes. Pretending ignorance, Kate later sobbed alone, betrayed again. Ara, her steadfast werebird friend, coaxed her from the cottage’s sanctuary, bolstering her courage to face the whispers. Kate confided only in Ara, hiding her pain from Elliott, fearing he’d doubt her or overreact. He sensed her distress but didn’t push, and though grateful, she felt guilty for keeping secrets.

****

Kate and Ara headed to the dining hall when Ella ambushed them, clinging to Kate’s dress, her face puffy and red. “Oh, Kate! I’m so glad to see you! The guy I told you about left me!” she wailed, burying her face in Kate’s chest, drawing onlookers.

Kate, drained, stared down emotionlessly. Ella prattled on. “I told him we haven’t been spending time together… he’s always with his friends… but he broke up with me!”

Kate pried her off. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said flatly, walking away with Ara.

Whispers erupted, appalled at Kate’s coldness, unaware Ella had dumped the man days ago, bragging to Kate about losing interest for someone “better-looking.” It was another act to vilify Kate, but she lacked the energy to play along. Even consoling Ella would’ve been twisted against her.

In the dining hall, Kyle’s genuine smile was a balm. Waving them over, he ignored the rumors, reassuring Kate they’d fade. His open dislike for Castiel, Deborah’s twin, made him a target of her schemes too. “There’s the two best-looking girls in Vargr! Come sit!”

Kate and Ara giggled, joining him. Over lunch, they chatted about recent events. Elliott had been busy with Sol, lobbying for their own mating ceremony. Kate hoped it would go smoothly, but a pit in her stomach warned of trouble—perhaps Deborah’s schemes or Castiel’s plans.

After lunch, Kate sought refuge in a hidden library nook, a cozy alcove tucked behind Vargr’s grand library, where glowing tomes lined the walls, their enchanted runes casting a soft golden light. The air smelled of aged parchment and ink, calming her frayed nerves. Elliott found her curled on a velvet cushion, her fingers tracing a tome’s carved cover—the same one she’d gifted Sumner. His cedarwood-mint scent enveloped her as he leaned against the shelf, a commanding glint in his eyes, holding a feather quill.

“Found my runaway,” he murmured, his voice low and authoritative, yet warm. “Hiding from me, gorgeous?” His gaze pinned her, his presence filling the nook, making her heart race.

Kate’s cheeks flushed, her apple-cinnamon scent spiking as she met his eyes, her voice soft. “I… just needed quiet,” she whispered, her hazel eyes wide with vulnerability, submitting to his intensity.

Elliott knelt before her, his fingers tilting her chin, his thumb grazing her lower lip. “You don’t hide from me,” he commanded gently, his voice a velvet growl. “Let me take care of you.” “Mark her now!” Leo urged, but Elliott held back, his control absolute. He brushed the quill’s feather along her jaw, the soft tickle making her shiver, her breath hitching. “Good girl,” he purred, his eyes darkening with intent.

He guided her to lie back on the cushion, his hands firm yet tender, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. “Stay still,” he ordered, his voice low, sending a thrill through her. He dipped the quill in an inkpot, painting a slow, cool line of ink across her collarbone, then down her chest, just above her dress’s neckline. The sensation made her gasp, her body trembling under his control. He followed the ink with his lips, licking it away, the warmth of his tongue contrasting the cool ink, drawing a soft moan. “So perfect for me,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.

He tugged her dress down, exposing her shoulders and breasts, and traced the feather over her n****e, circling it until it peaked, then sucking gently, his teeth grazing lightly, making her whimper.

“Elliott,” she pleaded, her voice trembling, her body arching instinctively, yielding to his dominance. His free hand slid under her dress, parting her thighs, his fingers teasing her through her undergarments, slow and deliberate. “All mine,” he growled, peeling them away, his fingers slipping inside, curling against her sensitive spots, her moans escalating as she surrendered completely.

“Let him lead,” Tove whispered, her voice soft with trust. Kate’s hands remained pinned, her body pliant under his touch, her hazel eyes locked on his, filled with need. Elliott’s lips claimed hers, his kiss deep and possessive, his tongue exploring as he deepened his strokes, building her pleasure with expert precision. “You feel so good,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire, his fingers circling her bud, pushing her toward the edge.

He released her wrists, guiding her to a low table, lifting her effortlessly to sit on its edge, her legs spread as he stood between them. “Don’t move,” he commanded, his eyes burning with intensity. He unfastened his trousers, freeing his hardness, and entered her slowly, the stretch delicious, his thrusts deep and controlled, each one drawing a cry from her lips. “Mine,” he growled, nipping her neck where her mark would go, his canines grazing, the tomes flaring brighter, their golden glow pulsing with their gasps. Kate clutched the table’s edge, her nails digging into the wood, her body trembling as pleasure surged. His hand returned to her bud, circling it, pushing her over the edge, her walls tightening as he spilled into her, their c****x crashing together, their cries mingling with the nook’s enchanted hum, their scents—apple-cinnamon and cedarwood-mint—blending in the golden light.