Drake—POV
The night was quiet, the kind of eerie stillness that made my wolf restless. I stood watch with my team, the crackling fire casting shadows across our tense faces. Yuri was resting in the tent, and Mac had just joined me, taking a slow sip from his flask.
"Your wolf is back, huh?" he mused, offering me the drink.
I took it, nodding. "Yeah. Feels like I’m myself again, thanks to that fight with that asshole Eric."
Mac smirked, taking another swig. "So… you’re not gonna ask?"
I arched a brow. "Ask what?"
"Yuri’s not my mate. Emery is," he clarified, his voice steady. "The moment my wolf surfaced during your fight with Zane, I knew."
I shrugged. "Figured."
Mac scoffed. "No wonder you look so damn smug."
I rolled my eyes. "How’s Emery?"
His smirk faded, replaced by a shadow
