To Break a Wolf

Chapter 10: Unanswered Questions

Mira couldn’t sleep. She lay on her side, wrapped in a blanket that suddenly felt too thin, her eyes fixed on the cabin wall as moonlight spilled faintly in through the windows.[1] Her body was still buzzing, heart thudding in slow, unsteady waves. No matter how tightly she clutched the blanket to her chest, it couldn’t quiet the riot inside her.

She had seen it. She hadn’t imagined it. It wasn’t some shock-induced hallucination. No matter how many times her mind tried to logic it away, the image was seared into her, branding it.

Massive wolves, coordinated in their mannerisms. Predatory. So much more than beasts and Bastian—my God. Her fingers curled into the fabric beneath her.

He had changed. One moment, he was a wolf, a force of fury and instinct tearing through the clearing. The next, he stood before her as the man, Bastian. Completely comfortable in his nakedness. Blood streaked his chest, muscles tense from the fight and unblinking about it.

Her cheeks flamed just thinking about it. It was unfair how calm Bastian had looked. How infuriatingly in control, as if his body wasn’t doing the impossible. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Impossible.

People didn’t just become wolves, that was only a fantasy, fiction and falling into urban legend territory. Except, apparently, it wasn’t. Her heart kicked harder.

She flipped onto her back and stared at the dark ceiling. Her thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning as she remembered how the other wolves had moved, surrounding her, and understood the tactics. Bastian had leapt into the fight without hesitation, and the others had backed down. They recognized him, knew, and felt he was someone not to tangle with. And then, there was the way she had felt when he stepped in front of her.

Heat licked through her stomach at the memory. It hadn’t been fear, not exactly. Something primal, intense, and unfamiliar. It made no sense, she should’ve been terrified.

Instead, every part of her had felt locked in place. Her center of gravity had shifted to hold her there. An instinct, ancient and wild inside her, had snapped awake the moment he looked at her.

It wasn’t just adrenaline. Having been the one chased before, she knew the difference. This buzz had been beyond that, and it hadn’t ended when he walked her home. No. That strange, magnetic awareness had pulsed beneath her skin the entire way. It had coiled tighter with every step he took beside her, building to a fever pitch the moment he turned to her on the porch and said: You’re staying inside from now on.

Her stomach twisted. The words shouldn’t have held weight, but they did. Not because of what Bastian said. But how he said it. Calm. Controlled. Absolute.

She had tried to push back. She had, but some inner hold deep inside her had locked up under the force of his stare.

Mira let out a frustrated breath and threw the covers off, sitting up and planting her bare feet on the floor. She didn’t like this, not one bit. Not the fear, or the confusion, and definitely not the feeling that her body was working against her brain.

She wrapped a blanket tightly around herself and stood, crossing the room to the window. The glass was cold beneath her fingers as she peered out.

The forest loomed in the distance, dark and quiet. The night had returned to its former hush, but it felt as if it were in the eye of a storm. Too still, calm, as though it was watching. She could feel him still out there. Her eyes dropped to the path, but she could see no movement.

She should have felt relief. Instead, her chest ached. Mira leaned her forehead against the windowpane and closed her eyes. In the darkness behind her lids, she felt it—a pull low in her chest, warm and electric—a presence brushing just beneath her skin. Mira didn’t imagine it. Not too distant. Him. Still there, nearby, as if he hadn’t left at all.

Bastian

He stood just beyond the porch, shadows clinging to his skin, the chill of the night doing nothing to cool the fire running beneath it. She’d gone inside and closed the door as he’d ordered. But still, he didn’t move.

His fingers flexed at his sides, aching from the shift, his body wound so tight that one thought might snap his control, and he could do or say something he couldn’t take back.

He should’ve walked away ten minutes ago. But his legs refused.

The bond was burning. Subtle at their first meeting, quiet, a whisper in the bloodstream. But now, after tonight, it pulsed through him, a second heart beating in his chest. Her scent still clung to his skin, entwined with blood, sweat, and pine. Every part of his wolf was alert, waiting, and watching that door. It wasn’t just instinct anymore. It wasn’t just duty. It was her, and that terrified him because Selene was still his mate.

The bond hadn’t broken. It lived between them, heavy and old, wrapped in years of trust and tradition. She was his Beta, his right hand. She had fought for this pack with him, stood by him through every battle. He meant for the position of Luna to be Selene’s.

Their bond was solid and predictable. It made sense. But none of that had mattered tonight. Because the second Mira screamed, every instinct he’d ever trusted had shifted course. His wolf hadn’t even considered Selene. His wolf had chosen for him.

Bastian turned his head toward the trees and sent a low, sharp call through the link.

Callum. Now.

A pause, then the reply.

What is it?

You’re guarding Mira tonight. Personally. You don’t sleep. You don’t blink. You don’t let anything near that cabin.

Understood.

He didn’t explain. Callum had seen it too.

The way Bastian’s wolf had lost control. Those rogues had submitted the second he stood between them and her.

Bastian exhaled slowly and roughly through his nose. Standing here, staring at the cabin, wasn’t protection. It was a form of possession, and it was wrong.

He took a slow step toward the porch, gaze flicking up to the darkened window. He couldn’t see Mira, but he felt her. That same pulse, a quiet hum beneath his skin that hadn’t stopped since the moment she looked at him as if he wasn’t just a monster, but more.

He closed his eyes briefly, and he felt her reaching back. Not intentionally. Not consciously. But her energy brushed against his. Soft, curious and unsteady.

His heart kicked once, painfully hard, and rage followed. Not at Mira. Not really.

At the new bond forming. How his body answered her as though it belonged to her now. At the betrayal humming under his skin, when Selene’s name no longer pulled the same ache from his chest.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this, not for Mira or anyone else other than Selene, for that matter.

He clenched his jaw until it almost shattered, heat flooding his limbs as fire licked at bone. This intense swirling miasma wasn’t a mate bond. It couldn’t be. It was a state of confusion, proximity triggering a reaction to fear and pure instinct. It had to be, because if it wasn’t, then everything he believed in, everything he’d sacrificed, everything promised to Selene, meant nothing.

Bastian turned from the cabin and strode into the woods, teeth clenched, fists curled at his sides. He would prove it to himself. He had to.

The moment he left Mira’s cabin, he strode into the forest, needing distance, needing air. His pulse was still too fast, his body drawn too tight with something raw and unrestrained.

The rogues had entered his land, and not by accidental coincidence. They had been waiting, and it hadn’t been for him or any of his pack, but that didn’t matter. Anyone who dared set foot on his territory and attack someone under his roof and protection? The offense was unforgivable.

That thought only made his wolf prowl harder beneath his skin, restless and unsatisfied, itching for a fight. Still demanding more. He cursed under his breath, forcing himself to focus. He had spent years protecting this pack, keeping their borders secure, and ensuring that nothing and no one threatened their way of life.

But tonight? Tonight proved he had failed. Someone had planned this. Someone wanted Mira, just as they had wanted to get rid of her mother years ago. Someone was trying damn hard to get make sure their bloodline didn’t survive.

His jaw clenched at the thought. He hated how it sat in his chest, the way it made his grip tighten, his breath become sharper. It was too much. It was the total opposite of his nature: irrational. Far removed from who he was.

He needed to ground himself, to find a tether to the familiar. He found Selene standing at the edge of the village, her golden eyes already on him as he approached. She knew where he was coming from. She’d seen him leave Mira’s cabin. She’d sensed the tension in the air, the shift in the pack, the storm waiting to break, but Selene didn’t question him. She rarely did. She read him instead, sharp, steady, calculating.

“You’ve worked yourself up,” she said simply.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he stepped forward and grabbed her waist, backing her into the nearest tree. The bark bit into her shoulders as his mouth crashed onto hers. She gasped, but it wasn’t in protest. Her hands gripped his arms, pulling him closer, and their kiss was feral, bruising, desperate, starved.

This bond is what I know, he told himself. It is safe. Selene is who I’m supposed to be with, but even as his hands roamed her hips, as her body molded against his, something was missing. There should have been a fire. That gut-deep spark of recognition. The visceral surge of rightness. There was heat and history, but not that.

Still, he pushed harder, deepening the kiss, demanding more, trying to summon it, to force it into being. If he kissed her harder, pressed close enough, maybe the part of him that had reacted to Mira would shut the hell up.

Selene responded with the same fury, her fingers sliding up his bare chest, her body arching into his, but just as he hooked a hand beneath her thigh, ready to lift her, she stiffened.

“Bastian,” she breathed, her voice trembling.

He froze, lips hovering just above hers.

“This isn’t right,” she whispered, eyes wide now. “You’re not here for me.”

His breath shuddered as her words cracked something open inside him.

Selene pushed lightly on his chest, not forcefully, just enough. “You’re trying to silence an inner voice. I won’t be used by you to forget her.”

A low growl built in his throat, but it wasn’t at her. It was at him. At the damn truth of it.

“I didn’t come looking for—” He broke off. The lie tasted bitter even before it spilled off his tongue.

Her gaze softened, but not with pity, with understanding. “You miss me,” she said gently. “And I miss you. But this… whatever this is now? It’s not us anymore.”

His jaw clenched. “I thought if I kissed you, it would come back. That it would all make sense again.” He ran his hand through his hair, tugging on the roots before letting go.

“It doesn’t,” she said, voice tight. “And that’s the truth we’re both sensing.”

Bastian pulled back, chest heaving.

She watched him closely, her expression unreadable. “Do you still feel it?” she asked quietly.

He nodded once. “There’s a thread hanging there. Not the same as what we had. But it’s still… there.”

“The bond’s not fully gone,” she said, almost to herself. “But it’s unraveling somehow.”

And gods, it hurt, as muscles torn from the bone, slowly, achingly, inevitably, did.

Selene stepped away, smoothing her skirt with a trembling hand. “I’m not angry. But I won’t let either of us pretend.”

He didn’t stop her as she walked past him, into the dark, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to chase her.