Chapter 11: Running Toward Home
1320 Words
The run back home felt… different. The wind still sliced through the trees, cool and sharp against my fur, but the wild urgency that had gripped me before was gone. My paws pressed into the earth with each stride, steady and deliberate, matching the rhythm of the wolf running beside me.
Ryland stayed close, his storm-gray wolf moving in perfect tandem with mine. He didn’t need to lead this time. We moved as equals, our strides falling into a natural, effortless rhythm. I could feel the hum of the mate bond between us, faint but constant, like an anchor holding me steady in a way I couldn’t explain.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t running from something.
But as the trees began to thin and the packhouse clearing came into view, my chest tightened. The calm I’d carried on the run faltered, replaced by a growing weight that settled heavily in my ribs.
They were waiting.
From a distance, the figures were still—silhouettes frozen in the pale light of the evening—but as we drew closer, their faces sharpened, each expression cutting into me like shards of glass.
SJ stood at the front, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His face was a clash of emotions—relief tangled with frustration, fear, and something I couldn’t quite name. Beside him, my mom clutched her hands to her chest, her wide eyes brimming with worry. Darren stood at her side, tall and steady, his jaw tight but his eyes soft, like he’d already forgiven me for something I hadn’t even said.
Behind them, Kara and Griffin lingered in the shadows. Kara’s sharp gaze darted from me to Ryland and back again, her lips pressing into a faint smirk like she was proud of me for reasons I didn’t yet understand. Griffin’s expression was unreadable, his dark eyes heavy with unspoken thoughts as they lingered on me, searching. Always searching.
The tension in the clearing hung thick, stretching and coiling like an unspoken question.
No one moved at first.
Then SJ broke the stillness, his voice cracking through the quiet. “Scarlett!”
He bolted toward me, and my wolf froze, muscles tensing as my brother closed the distance between us. He skidded to a halt just a foot away, his breath hitching audibly as he looked at me—really looked at me. I saw it then, the flicker of fear in his eyes. The memory of how I’d snarled at him, my claws too close, my teeth too sharp. I’d scared him, and the weight of it crashed into me all over again.
But SJ reached out anyway.
His hand trembled slightly as his fingers brushed the fur along my neck, his touch careful, hesitant, but real. “You’re okay,” he whispered, his voice quiet, almost reverent. “You’re okay, Scar.”
Behind him, my mom let out a soft, broken sound, and then she was running, Darren following closely behind.
“Scarlett!”
The sound of her voice was enough to shake me loose. Without thinking, I shifted. The change came quickly this time, bones snapping and reshaping as the fur receded. When I knelt in the grass, the cool evening air brushing against my skin, I felt the sharpness of the moment ease—but only slightly.
Ryland shifted beside me, the familiar crack of his bones echoing as he dropped smoothly back into his human form. His presence stayed close, steady, grounding me as I tried to breathe.
A blanket was thrown over my shoulders before I even registered Kara moving. I pulled it tightly around me, the soft fabric comforting against my bare skin. Griffin tossed me a bundle of clothes—an oversized shirt and sweatpants—and though he smirked faintly, he said nothing.
A blanket was thrown over my shoulders before I even registered Kara moving. I pulled it tightly around me, the soft fabric comforting against my bare skin. Griffin tossed me a bundle of clothes—an oversized shirt and sweatpants—and though he smirked faintly, he said nothing.
But Ryland did.
A low, guttural growl rumbled through the clearing, so primal and sharp that it made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. It came from deep in Ryland’s chest, his wolf bleeding through in a way that sent a ripple of tension crackling through the air.
“She is mine,” Ryland said, his voice a lethal snarl. His golden eyes flared, burning with a heat that could have melted steel.
Griffin didn’t even flinch. His smirk only deepened as he leaned lazily against a nearby tree, his arms crossed, as though Ryland’s rage was an amusing inconvenience rather than a real threat.
“You don’t say,” Griffin replied smoothly, his tone dripping with mock indifference.
Ryland’s anger flared, raw and unrelenting. He took a step forward, putting himself between Griffin and me, his broad shoulders squared and radiating a warning that was impossible to miss.
“That is my mate, Griffin,” Ryland growled, his voice sharp enough to cut stone. “Know your place. I will take care of her.”
“And yet,” Griffin drawled, unbothered, “I’m the one giving her clothes so she’s not standing out here showing her naked body to the world.” He gestured faintly toward me, his smirk turning razor-sharp. “Not that I haven’t seen it before anyway.”
The taunt landed like a spark in a dry forest, and I felt the heat radiating off Ryland as his restraint began to crack. His fists curled at his sides, and his golden eyes darkened to molten fire. For a split second, I thought he was about to shift right then and there.
“Griffin,” Ryland’s voice was a low, deadly rumble now, his control slipping, “say that again, and I will—”
“Enough!”
My voice broke through the tension like a whip. I reached out, grabbing Ryland’s wrist before he could take another step toward Griffin. The heat of his skin burned against my palm, his muscles coiled tight beneath my grip.
“Both of you,” I said, my voice louder now, shaking slightly but firm. “I’ve had it. I am tired. I am cold. And I just want to go inside.”
Ryland stilled under my touch, his breathing heavy, his wolf still raging behind his golden eyes. I held his gaze, willing him to let it go. To stand down. Slowly, his fists unclenched, but the tension in his body didn’t fully ease.
Griffin, meanwhile, arched a brow, his smirk still in place. “Well, then,” he said, shrugging casually as if the air hadn’t been moments away from exploding. “You heard the lady.”
Ryland let out a sharp exhale, his gaze snapping to Griffin for one last, searing glare. But he didn’t speak again. Instead, he took a step back, his jaw tight as he turned his focus back to me.
“Let’s go inside,” he said, his voice softer now but still edged with simmering frustration.
I didn’t look at Griffin as I stepped past him, though I could feel his amused gaze lingering on me. Ryland stayed close, his presence hovering like a shield, his hand brushing lightly against the small of my back as we walked toward the packhouse.
Behind us, Griffin’s soft chuckle broke the silence, low and taunting. Ryland’s shoulders stiffened, his wolf still pacing beneath the surface, but he said nothing.
“Boys,” Kara muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she followed after us. “They’re worse than pups fighting over a bone.”
I didn’t respond, my exhaustion catching up with me as the warmth of the packhouse loomed closer. All I wanted now was quiet. And peace.
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