[POV: Draven]
I hadn't felt like myself since that night on the training field. His scent still clung to me, burned into my memory like fire that refused to be extinguished. It haunted me in quiet moments, invaded my dreams, followed me through every hall of the packhouse. It wasn't just his fragrance. It was what it did to me.
The raw, primal ache. The maddening need. The confusion that twisted through my thoughts like thorns, refusing to let go.
I'd told myself it was his fault. His inexperience. His lack of control. I'd told myself it was just the shifters' nature. Instinct. Biology. But the more I tried to rationalize it, the less sense it made. I'd been around other wolves before.
Omegas, Gammas, Betas, Alphas, warriors in heat. Their scents never did this. Never made me lose control, never made me want to claim and possess and never let go. Only his. And it wasn't just the scent. It was him.
The way his voice wavered when he challenged me, uncertain but refusing to back down. The fire in his eyes when he fought back, that spark of defiance. The way his lips parted in surprise when I whispered too close, breath catching.
The look in his eyes that said he didn't know how dangerous he was—or maybe he did, and simply didn't care.
I needed to get him out of my head. Needed to clear the fog of want that clouded my judgment.
I shifted and bolted into the forest, tearing through the undergrowth in my wolf form. Sirius surged beneath my skin, powerful and wild, claws digging into the earth, lungs burning with the wild freedom of the run.
But no matter how far I went, no matter how fast I pushed, I couldn't outrun him. And when I neared the outer edge of the territory—just before the border—his scent hit me again.
Fresh, recent and unmistakable. I skidded to a halt, hackles rising, every muscle tensing. He was here.
Sirius snarled low in my chest, already on edge, already possessive. "Follow him. Find him." So I did.
We moved through the trees in silence, paws silent on the moss-covered ground, slipping through shadows. The trail was recent, sharp and clear. And it wasn't just his.
There was another scent too. Another male, unfamiliar and an outsider. I shifted back into my human form, moving low and quiet between the trees, my Alpha senses on high alert, every instinct screaming danger until I spotted them.
Atlas. And a man I didn't recognize—tall, broad-shouldered, brown-haired, his voice low and hesitant as he stood far too close to him. Their bodies angled toward each other, intimate, familiar.
Too close. Touching him. Hands on his face, cradling it like he had the right. Then I heard him say it. "Do you still love me?"
The world stopped. A white-hot roar exploded through my chest, savage and all-consuming.
Sirius screamed, a feral howl that ripped through my thoughts, demanding I tear the stranger apart limb by limb, demanding blood and violence and possession.
I stepped out of the trees slowly, fury barely restrained, every muscle coiled tight. Atlas's head whipped around—and the horror in his face when he saw me only sharpened the knife twisting inside me.
"Run," he whispered to the stranger urgently. "Run!"
The man shifted in a flash, his brown wolf darting into the forest and disappearing into the trees beyond the border, tail between his legs. Coward.
I stepped into the clearing fully, eyes locked on Atlas, predatory and dangerous. "Who was that?" I growled.
He didn't answer. Just stood there, frozen, his blue eyes wide. I was in front of him in a heartbeat, moving faster than thought.
He took a step back, but I grabbed his arm and shoved him hard against the nearest tree, slamming my palm just above his head. My body boxed him in, cutting off escape, trapping him. My voice dropped, deadly calm. "I asked you a question. Who the hell was that?"
His eyes widened, breath shallow and rapid. "Draven—"
"Are you plotting something?" I snarled, leaning in closer, letting him feel the full weight of my rage, my dominance, the Alpha power that could crush him if I chose. "Working with rogues? Planning an attack? Selling us out to enemy packs?"
"No!" he cried, voice breaking, panic flooding his features.
"I've received reports," I went on, my voice dropping lower, more dangerous, each word deliberate, "about you hanging around the borders. Multiple times. I let it slide. Thought maybe you were just… odd. Quiet. Needing space. But this?"
My voice dipped darker, threaded with barely controlled violence, with the promise of consequences. "If you're a threat to this pack—if you've been lying this whole time—I'll tear you apart myself!"
He flinched, eyes filling with panic, body trembling, but he didn't look away. Didn't cower. "I'm not!" he shouted, desperation in his voice. "That wasn't what you think!"
I pressed closer, my chest against his, feeling his rapid heartbeat. "Then explain it."
His voice shook, words tumbling out. "He's just an old friend. From before. From back when I had no one else. He helped me—saved me. I owe him everything. We don't meet often, only when it's safe, only to talk. That's all it's ever been!"
I didn't move. Didn't give him space. Just stared down at him, searching for lies, for deception.
"I never lied to you," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Never planned anything against you. Or the pack. I wouldn't. I could never..."
Sirius growled, but this time not in fury. Something different. Something protective. "He's telling the truth," he said in my mind. "You're scaring him. Our mate. Stop it." Mate.
The word made something shift inside me, like tectonic plates grinding together. I looked down at him—really looked.
His body trembled under mine, but he didn't push me away. His eyes brimmed with tears that caught the moonlight, but he didn't turn his face. He stayed. He faced me. Even terrified, even cornered, he faced me.
"I just wanted to see him," he whispered, voice breaking on the words. "Because he was the only one who ever made me feel like I mattered."That last word cracked something open in me. And I hated it.
Because beneath my fury, beneath the betrayal, beneath the rage, there was something worse. Something I'd been denying. Jealousy.
The kind that burned in your stomach and made your hands shake. The kind that made you want to chase down the stranger and rip him apart for daring to touch what was yours.
Sirius whined low in my chest, plaintive now. "You hurt him. You scared him. Fix it. Now!"
But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Because all I could think about was the way he looked at that man. The way the stranger asked if he still loved him. The way Atlas told him to run, protecting him even from me.
My grip loosened on the tree. My body eased just slightly, giving him room to breathe. But Atlas was already crying, silent tears falling down his cheeks, tracking silver in the moonlight.
"I'm not your enemy," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I never was and never could."