The Alpha's Rejected Rogue

After Closing

The lock clicks into place, and my hand stays on the key a beat longer than it should. Like letting go makes tonight real.

"You know who that was?"

Mara's voice rips through the rain. I don't turn. My fingers press harder into the lock.

"Should I?"

My scarf is still up. My hat is still on. I checked twice before I even touched the door. The face he saw, if he saw it, is hidden.

Mara's boots splash closer. "Moonstone's Alpha. Caden Voss."

The name hits my chest like a thrown brick. My throat closes around the air I was breathing.

I know that name. I know what Moonstone does to people who run from them. I know what Caden Voss does to targets who think hiding in a coffee shop for two years makes them invisible.

"I've heard that name," I say. My voice comes out steady. Good.

"Biggest and coldest wolf lord in the territory," Mara says. "And he walked into your shop, ordered a black coffee, and stared at you like you were the only solid thing in the room."

"He looked at everyone."

"He didn't look at me."

The awning keeps the worst of the rain off us, but wind keeps kicking spray in. I finally turn. Mara's hood is up, arms crossed tight over her chest. She looks like she's doing math she doesn't like.

"He's not my customer," I say. "I locked the door. He's gone. I'm going to pretend he doesn't exist."

Mara's eyes drop to my hands. "But your hands are shaking."

I look down. She's right. The key in my fist is rattling. I shove it into my pocket.

"Cold."

"It's not that cold."

I step off the curb into the downpour. Water hits my face, and I'm grateful for it. Something else to feel. Something else to focus on. But even through the cold, I smell it. Caden's scent, trapped in the fibers of my jacket. Pine and smoke and something darker that curls down my throat and settles in my chest like a second heartbeat.

I pull my scarf higher.

Wrong move. The fabric drags across my collarbone, and the pendant under my shirt goes hot. Not warm. Hot like someone pressed an iron against my skin. I bite down on a gasp.

Rip it off. Throw it away. I've done it before. Two years ago I shed everything: phone, wallet, name, the whole life. The pendant was the only thing I kept, and I can't explain why. It's just metal and stone, worn smooth, unremarkable. But some part of me won't let go of it.

The chain bites into my neck as I hook my fingers under it. I'm a breath away from snapping it.

I stop.

I can't. I don't know why, but I can't. I tuck it back under my shirt, against my skin. It cools slowly. The mark it left on my collarbone throbs.

"You okay?" Mara's voice comes from beside me. She caught up without me noticing.

"Fine."

"You're doing that thing. Gritting your teeth like the air owes you money."

I unclench my jaw. "Let's just go."

We walk. Streetlights bleed through the rain like pale ghosts. The coffee shop shrinks behind us, which should feel good. Distance. Safety. Gone. It doesn't. The blue tint around Caden's eyes is still burned into the back of my mind, and my wrist still remembers the exact pressure of his grip through my sleeve. He'd held me like he knew something I didn't.

"Moonstone's been growing for years," Mara says. Not loud, like she's talking to the ground more than me. "They swallow packs whole. Nothing left where they've been. Nothing alive."

"Yeah." I've heard this. I've lived this.

"Targets either join or disappear," she goes on. "And Caden doesn't forget a target. He tracks them to the ends of the—"

She stops. Mid-word.

I glance over. Mara's staring at the wet pavement, and something behind her eyes just went flat. The easy light she always carries is gone.

"Back then, I—"

The rain picks up. A gust of wind slams water into both of us.

Mara shakes her head once, sharp, like she's shoving something back down. "Forget it. Rain's too heavy. Walk faster."

She turns and keeps moving.

Part of me wants to ask. Wants to grab her arm and ask what she meant. How she knows what Moonstone takes. What they took from her. But asking makes it real. Asking makes her wonder why I care so much. Asking ties me to her in a way that could get her killed if the wrong people ever come looking.

So I don't ask.

I follow her, and I hold the pendant in my palm, and I let the rain wash the pine-and-smoke smell out of my jacket.

The street ahead is empty. Good. Empty is—

I stop.

"Scarlett?" Mara's voice carries back.

There's a car. A black SUV parked in the shadow of a dead streetlight. No lights on. No engine hum. It was sitting there when we passed five minutes ago, and it hasn't moved. The rain blurs its license plate into a gray smear.

"That car," I say. "It was parked there when we came by. Still hasn't moved."

Mara squints through the downpour. "Under a broken light? Who'd park in the dark?" She shrugs. "Maybe someone sheltering from the rain."

"Yeah."

I force my feet to keep moving. The apartment building's door appears through the water, and I don't realize how fast I'm walking until my key is already in the lock and I'm pulling Mara inside.

The door clicks shut. Fluorescent light buzzes overhead. It's the most normal sound I've heard all night.

I'm about to breathe when I catch myself turning back to the glass.

Through the rain, through the dark, I can just make out the blocky shape of the SUV. It hasn't moved. Headlights off. Engine silent. Just sitting there in the dark like it plans to wait all night.

The hairs on the back of my neck stay up until I'm up the stairs, in my apartment, door locked, three locks deep. And even then, my hand stays on the deadbolt. My boots are dripping. The pendant is still warm against my skin, not burning anymore but not cold either, like a brand that says I'm not safe. That I'm not hidden. That Caden Voss knows my name is a lie, and whatever pulled him into my shop tonight didn't just walk back out into the rain.

It followed me home.