Ilana POV:
My fingers tightened around my phone, the plastic groaning under the pressure. The knuckles of my free hand turned white where I gripped the edge of the library table.
"I know, I know!" Cole said hastily to the woman in the background. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as he spoke back into the phone. "Ila, listen, I'm so sorry. It's crazy here. It's all about Ryker's mate selection ceremony, you know?"
His tone was apologetic, almost pleading, and it was enough to douse the initial flare of my anger. But the cold knot of suspicion remained.
"Who was that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, trembling with an insecurity I hated.
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "That's Mira Thorne," he said, his voice tight. "She's... she's my brother's chosen mate. The future Luna. She's in charge of a lot of the arrangements."
Mira Thorne. The future Luna of the Nightshade Pack.
The name landed in my stomach like a stone. A woman with power, with status. A woman who could command the Alpha's brother and expect to be obeyed without question. A woman who belonged in that world of wealth and influence, a world I could only peer at from the outside.
"...Oh. Okay," I managed to say, the words feeling like ash in my mouth. The last thing I wanted was to sound like a needy, jealous girlfriend.
"I promise, as soon as this is all over, I'll make it up to you," Cole's voice softened, turning warm and intimate. It was the voice I had fallen in love with. "I love you, Ila."
Those three words were a balm to my frayed nerves. They were everything. "I love you too," I whispered back. "Be safe. Take care of yourself."
We hung up, and the oppressive silence of the library rushed back in to fill the void. But this time, it wasn't empty. It was filled with the echo of his promise.
*I'll make it up to you.*
But why should I wait? He was working so hard, he sounded so tired, being ordered around by his future sister-in-law. He needed something to lift his spirits. He needed me.
A surprise.
The idea bloomed in my mind, bold and brilliant. It wasn't just a want anymore; it was a mission. I would go to him. I would be the bright spot in his stressful day.
I shot out of my chair and hurried out of the library, completely ignoring the buzz of my phone in my pocket. A quick glance showed a text from Silas. *At the front gate. Where are you?*
I shoved the phone deeper into my bag.
I ran the few blocks to the town's main bus station, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. I scanned the route map, my eyes finding the line that went out toward the forested suburbs, toward Blackwood Manor-the Packhouse.
An image flashed in my mind: Cole, a few months ago, happily devouring a cinnamon roll from The Rolling Pin, the best bakery in town. He'd claimed they were his one true weakness.
My plan solidified. It was perfect. Simple, sweet, and undeniably from the heart.
I boarded the bus, the fare taking a significant chunk of my weekly allowance. As the bus rumbled through town, I felt a giddy sense of rebellion. I was doing this. For Cole. For us. I imagined the look on his face when I showed up, a warm cinnamon roll in hand. The thought was so wonderful it pushed aside all of Silas's dire warnings, all my own fears about the imposing Alpha and his world. Love was a powerful shield. It made me feel invincible.
I got off at the stop near the bakery, the warm, spicy-sweet scent of cinnamon and sugar wrapping around me like a hug. It smelled like happiness. It smelled like Cole.
I carefully selected the biggest, gooiest roll they had, the warm paper bag a comforting weight in my hands. Then, I was back on another bus, this one heading out of the city, toward the deep woods that bordered the pack lands.
The urban landscape slowly gave way to towering trees, their dense canopy swallowing the sunlight. Deep within that forest was the heart of our pack, the center of all power.
Through the window, I could just make out the distant silhouette of the manor's pointed roofs against the sky. I took a deep breath, the air tasting of pine and damp earth.
Moonlight paced restlessly in my mind, a mix of her own excitement and a primal unease.
*For Cole,* I told myself, clutching the paper bag a little tighter. *It's all for Cole.*