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"Sienna Vale." Cade's voice cuts through the crowd like a blade. "Step forward."
I'm standing in the center of the clearing and every wolf in Ironridge is staring at me. The Blood Rite bonfire spits embers into the night. My hands won't stop shaking. I shove them behind my back.
Don't run. Don't run. Don'tâ
"Now," he says.
My feet move. Three steps. The bond yanks at my chest like a fishhook buried deep.
Cade's twenty feet away. His eyes haven't left me since I walked into the circle. Damon's at his shoulder, arms crossed, face carved from stone. He showed up at the kitchen this morning while I scrubbed counters. Didn't say a word. Just watched.
He knows something's wrong.
"You smell like roses," Cade says. Low. Almost private. "How did I never notice?"
Because I've been dosing myself with wolfsbane and ash for six years. Burning out my scent. Burning out everything.
"I don't know," I lie.
His jaw tightens. He knows I'm lying. Just doesn't know what about.
Yet.
"The bond doesn't lie," he says, louder now. For the pack. "She's mine."
Mine.
My wolf surges. I taste blood. Bit my tongue trying to keep her down.
I shouldn't be here. Should've crossed the border last night. Should've disappeared. But my wolf woke up after six years of nothing. No shift. No heat. Dead inside. I thought maybe the trauma broke something permanent.
I was fine with that.
Then he scented me and she clawed her way to the surface. Now she's pacing under my skin, whining, begging me to go to him.
Makes me want to puke.
"You could reject him," my wolf whispers. "Right now. Right here."
"Shut up."
"It would end this."
It would also tell him I know exactly what a fated mate bond is. That I'm not some broken low-rank omega. That I've been lying about everything.
They'd ask questions. Damon would dig.
And he'd find Thornwood in my bones.
Cade moves closer. The crowd leans in. This is the part they came for. Blood Rite isn't just about the bond. It's about the claim. The mark. The whole pack watches the alpha take what's his.
I hate every single one of them.
"You ran last night," Cade says. He's right in front of me now. Close enough I can feel the heat coming off him. "Why?"
"I was scared."
Not a lie. I am scared. Just not the way he thinks.
"Of me?"
"Of this."
His hand comes up. Slow. Gives me time to move.
I don't.
His fingers brush my jaw and my wolf keens. She wants this. Wants him.
I want him dead.
"You tried to stab me," he murmurs. "Now you're my mate. Hell of a coincidence."
"I wasn't trying to stab you."
"No?" His thumb traces my bottom lip. The crowd goes silent. "What were you doing in my room, Sienna?"
Think.
"I wanted to see you." I drop my gaze. Play the part. The desperate low-rank who finally has a shot at something better. "Didn't think you'd ever notice me."
"I'm noticing now."
His other hand slides to the back of my neck. Grip firm. Possessive. My pulse hammers against his palm.
This is it.
He's going to mark me.
If I let him, I'm tied to him. The bond will dig in deeper. My wolf will fight me every time I try to hurt him.
And I need to hurt him. Need to destroy him.
But if I don't let him, I'm dead by morning.
So I tilt my head.
Expose my throat.
His breath catches. I feel his wolf rise to meet mine. The bond snaps taut, pulling, demanding.
"Mine," he says.
Then he bites.
Pain first. Sharp and bright. Then heat floods my veins like poison. Like fire. The bond locks into place and I feel him. His wolf. His want. His confusion.
He doesn't understand why his mate smells like fear and fury under the roses.
I don't scream. Won't give them that.
When he pulls back, there's blood on his mouth. My blood. The mark throbs on my neck. Already starting to scar. His claim.
Permanent.
The pack howls. Approval. Celebration. Their alpha found his luna.
I'm going to kill every last one of them.
But first I'm going to make him love me.
The plan clicks together while his pack cheers and his hand stays locked on my neck. I can't just kill him anymore. Too easy. Too quick.
I'm going to make Cade Blackthorn fall in love with me. Become the one thing he can't live without.
Then I'm going to rip his heart out the way his father ripped out mine.
He wants a mate?
Fine.
He's going to get one.
"You're shaking," Cade says. His voice is softer now. Almost gentle. The crowd's still roaring but he's only looking at me. "It hurts?"
"Yeah."
"It'll fade." His thumb strokes the mark. Soothing. "I've got you."
Liar.
He doesn't have me. He's got a ghost wearing a fake name. And she's going to haunt him until there's nothing left.
"Come on." He keeps one hand on me and turns to the pack. Raises his voice. "It's done. She's mine. Anyone touches her answers to me."
More howls. Someone starts drumming. The Rite's shifting into celebration. Bonfire. Food. Alcohol. Hours of this.
Cade starts walking. Pulls me with him. Away from the noise, toward the edge of the clearing.
Damon falls into step behind us.
"Cade," Damon says. Voice carefully neutral. "A word."
"Later."
"Now."
Cade stops. His hand tightens on me. "What."
Damon's stare locks on my neck. Not the mark.
Lower.
Where my collar slipped during the Rite.
No.
I jerk my shirt back up but it's too late.
He saw it.
The birthmark. Small. Thorn-shaped. Right above my collarbone.
Every Thornwood is born with it.
"That mark," Damon says slowly. Face like stone. "I've seen that before."
Cade frowns. "What're you talking about?"
"The thorn." Damon takes a step closer. His eyes are ice. "That's a bloodline mark. Old pack. Real old."
My heart stops.
"So?" Cade looks between us. Doesn't get it yet.
Damon's mouth thins. When he speaks, his voice could cut glass.
"So that mark belongs to a pack we slaughtered six years ago." His gaze pins me in place. "Isn't that right, Thornwood?"