POV: Ace

Forget last night.

I made it back to the ballroom before the words stopped burning.

Ivy had looked me in the face and called the first night I had spent with her a mistake.

She had no idea I had been waiting five years for the chance to hear her say my name.

That was the problem.

She didn't remember me.

Five years earlier, at Moon Camp, I was eighteen and sick of being watched like the future Alpha every second of the day. I had slipped away from the bonfire and taken the boundary trail alone.

Halfway to the river, I heard someone scream.

By the time I reached the bank, a girl was already in the water.

Sixteen, maybe. Small. Dark hair plastered across her face as the current rolled her under.

I didn't think.

I jumped.

The river was snowmelt cold and strong enough to drag both of us downstream. I caught the back of her jacket on the second try and fought toward the bank. A submerged branch tore my wrist open when I shoved her ahead of me.

I barely felt it.

She was coughing by the time I pulled her onto the mud.

Alive.

That was all that mattered.

Then her scent reached me.

Faint under river water and fear.

Vanilla. Wildflowers. Something that made my wolf slam against my ribs so hard I nearly shifted on top of her.

Mate.

The word landed with the certainty of instinct.

She was sixteen.

Terrified.

Half-conscious.

So I did the only decent thing I could do.

I wrapped her in my coat, carried her to the medics, and kept my mouth shut.

By morning, her family had taken her home.

I went to Marcus before breakfast.

"Who was the girl from the river?"

He told me her name.

Ivy.

A week later, I left for Alpha training in the Northern Pack.

I told myself distance would help.

It didn't.

Chloe made it worse without knowing.

She mentioned Ivy in calls home. Ivy hated statistics. Ivy had made the dean's list. Ivy had broken her wrist sophomore year. Ivy was applying for a competitive seminar. Tiny facts that should have meant nothing became markers I stored away.

I never contacted her.

She was building a life. I wasn't going to walk into it waving fate like a legal document.

Then Chloe mentioned Dean.

I hated him before I met him.

When I walked into the campus cafe and saw him letting a room full of people call Ivy a homewrecker to protect himself, I came close to losing control.

Claiming she was my girlfriend had been strategy.

It had also been the easiest lie I had ever told.

Then came the nightclub.

She had shoved fifty dollars against my chest, looked at me with tequila-bright eyes, and called me a gigolo.

I should have been offended.

I almost laughed.

I kept her at that booth until she was sober enough to know exactly what she was doing. I gave her every chance to walk away.

She chose me anyway.

That was what had wrecked me.

Not the sex.

The choice.

For a few hours, I let myself believe her wolf had finally caught up with mine.

Then I woke to an empty bed.

And tonight she had told me to erase it.

I picked up a bourbon from a passing tray and forced my shoulders to loosen.

Cornering her would only make her run harder.

I knew enough about frightened wolves to understand that.

Across the ballroom, Chloe stood with her mother and two elders. Dean hovered several yards away looking like a man waiting for permission to approach his own execution.

The engagement wasn't settled.

Sarah had taken off the ring, but her family and Dean's had already begun using words like misunderstanding, repair, obligation, alliance.

Politics could resurrect relationships that should have stayed dead.

I walked over to Chloe.

"You surviving?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Ask me after Mom finishes explaining why public cheating is apparently less embarrassing than a canceled wedding."

"Sarah can still say no."

"I know. I wish she'd believe that."

She sounded tired enough to mean it.

I wanted to ask where Ivy had gone.

I didn't.

Instead, I said, "You're still going on the family Moon trip next week?"

"Apparently canceling would signal instability to the elders." Chloe made air quotes. "God forbid anyone think our family has feelings."

Normally, I avoided those trips on principle.

This year, I changed my mind.

"I'll go."

Chloe stared at me. "You told Marcus you'd rather chew glass."

"People evolve."

"You don't."

I ignored that.

"Bring Ivy."

Her suspicion sharpened for half a second.

"Why?"

I kept my face neutral.

"Because she's dealing with the same mess you are. She shouldn't spend four days alone while half the university tears her apart online."

Chloe's expression softened.

Good.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea."

"I have those occasionally."

"Rarely enough that I should document this one."

She walked away to find Ivy.

I took my bourbon out to the balcony.

Cold air hit my face.

I called Ryder.

He answered on the third ring. Pool balls cracked together in the background.

"Tell me you're calling because you finally escaped the engagement-party funeral."

"Clear next week."

"No."

"Moon Camp."

"Absolutely not."

"Bring Elias."

Ryder went quiet.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"That answer worked better before you left for five years and came back thinking you're charming."

I looked through the glass doors.

Ivy had returned to the ballroom.

She stood beside Chloe with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"There's someone I want you to meet," I said.

Ryder made a sound of interest.

"A woman?"

"Don't make me regret calling."

"Too late. Elias is here. You're on speaker."

A calmer voice joined the line.

"If this is about Moon Camp, no."

"Both of you are coming."

Ryder laughed. "Now I definitely want to know who she is."

I hung up.

At the time, inviting my two closest friends seemed smart. Ryder could occupy the security teams. Elias could keep the elders from trying to turn every meal into a political meeting. Their presence would make the trip feel casual.

Most importantly, Ivy would have fewer reasons to suspect I had agreed to attend because of her.

I looked through the doors again.

She glanced up.

Our eyes met across the ballroom.

Her expression tightened before she looked away.

Four days in the mountains wouldn't fix five years of distance.

But it would give me time.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

What I didn't know was that I had just invited the only two men in the pack capable of becoming a real problem for me.

POV: Ivy

Moon Camp looked prettier in photographs.

In person, it was wet gravel, cold wind, and a field of expensive SUVs slowly sinking into mud.

I climbed out of my sedan and immediately regretted my thin sneakers.

Chloe had spent the entire drive complaining about her mother, Dean, and Sarah's family in equal measure. After days of pack pressure, Sarah still had not officially put the diamond ring back on, but both families had agreed to call the engagement "under review" instead of dead.

I hated that phrase almost as much as Chloe did.

At least Moon Camp gave us four days away from the worst of the pack gossip.

Or that had been the idea.

We had barely unloaded our bags when the camp coordinator hurried across the clearing with a soaked clipboard.

"We have a housing issue."

A storm earlier that afternoon had triggered a small mudslide on the east side of the campsite. Several guest tents were gone, one cabin had a damaged foundation, and everyone important enough to complain had already started doing so.

The elders claimed the main cabins first.

Chloe's mother pulled her into the large Vale family tent for what she called "strategy" and Chloe called "being held hostage by relatives."

That left me standing beside my duffel bag while the coordinator checked his list.

"One canvas tent remains at the north tree line," he said. "Two unassigned guests."

I followed his gaze.

Ace leaned against a black SUV.

Dark thermal shirt. Heavy boots. That face.

Of course.

"I'll sleep in my car," I said.

The coordinator frowned. "Temperatures are expected to fall below freezing tonight."

"I have a coat."

"Your sedan doesn't have winter insulation."

"It has doors. That's enough."

Ace pushed away from the SUV.

"No, it isn't."

I glared at him.

He came close enough to lower his voice.

"You slept in my hotel bed a few nights ago," he said. "But a tent is where you suddenly discover boundaries?"

My face burned.

"That was different."

"Obviously. The hotel had room service."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

A laugh came from behind us.

"Should we come back after the murder?"

Two men approached along the gravel path.

The first was blond, broad, and wearing a grin that made me distrust him immediately. The second had dark hair, a quieter face, and the kind of observant eyes that seemed to register everything before he spoke.

The blond one held out a hand.

"Ryder. And before you ask, Ace is always this charming."

"I'm Ivy."

"I know."

Ace shot him a look.

Ryder's grin widened.

The other man nodded. "Elias."

His voice was calm, almost clinical.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

I picked up my bag.

"I'm still sleeping in my car."

Ryder looked at the sky. "I'd reconsider that before the next wave hits."

"Everyone has an opinion today."

"Occupational hazard."

I walked away before Ace could say anything else.

By ten, I admitted every man in that clearing had been right.

The storm arrived with freezing rain and wind strong enough to rock my sedan.

My heater, which had survived winter through a combination of prayer and denial, chose that night to produce nothing but a faint clicking sound.

I wrapped myself in a fleece blanket.

Ten minutes later, my teeth were chattering.

The parking area turned to soup. I could feel the rear of my car settling lower as mud swallowed the tires.

A knock hit the driver's window.

I jumped.

Ace stood outside in the rain.

His hair was soaked. Water ran down his jaw.

I cracked the window.

"Go away."

"Your back tires are buried."

"I noticed."

"The drainage ditch is overflowing. If the water rises another few inches, you won't be able to open the rear doors."

Thunder rolled across the mountain.

I looked behind me.

Mud had climbed halfway up the tire.

Damn it.

"Get your bag," Ace said.

"Don't order me around."

"Fine. Freeze politely."

I hated him a little for making me laugh.

I grabbed my duffel and shoved open the door.

Rain hit me sideways.

My foot slid the moment I stepped into the mud. Ace caught my elbow before I fell.

"I've got you."

The words landed strangely.

I pulled free once I had my balance.

"I can walk."

"Then walk faster."

We ran for the tree line.

By the time we reached the remaining tent, my hair was plastered to my face and water had soaked through every layer I wore.

Ace zipped us inside.

The storm became a muted roar against canvas.

He switched on a battery lantern.

Warm light filled a space that suddenly looked much smaller than it had from outside.

One tent.

Two sleeping bags.

Ace.

Me.

Fantastic.

"You can change behind that divider," he said.

I blinked.

A hanging canvas panel cut off one corner.

"You're not going to make another joke about the hotel?"

"Not while you're shivering."

That answer took some of the fight out of me.

I changed into dry clothes and stepped back into the main space.

Ace had stripped off his soaked thermal and replaced it with a gray long-sleeved shirt.

The sight should not have mattered.

It did.

His scent was trapped inside the sealed tent.

Pine and storm.

My Omega stirred.

Not the casual awareness I felt around other Alphas. This went deeper, pulling somewhere behind my ribs.

Ace noticed.

His shoulders went rigid.

For once, neither of us made a joke.

I watched a bead of water slide from his hair to the side of his throat.

My mouth went dry.

I took one step toward him before I realized I was moving.

My hand lifted.

Ace caught my wrist.

Not hard.

Just enough to stop me.

His thumb rested over my pulse.

"Ivy."

The warning in his voice was almost worse than a touch.

I looked up.

His eyes had gone dark.

"Are you sure you want me to forget?"

I should have said yes.

I had rehearsed yes for days.

But my body had never been good at lying around him.

Footsteps splashed through the mud outside.

Ryder's voice cut through the canvas.

"If you two are done pretending you hate each other, we have a problem."

Ace released me and moved between me and the entrance in the same breath.

"What happened?"

Ryder's humor was gone.

"Rogue scent on the northern perimeter. More than one. They're circling the camp."

POV: Ivy

"Rogues!"

The warning ripped through camp a second before the emergency bell started ringing.

Ace unzipped the tent and stepped into the storm.

"Stay behind me."

I followed him anyway, because apparently I had learned nothing about self-preservation.

Outside, Moon Camp had dissolved into chaos.

Flashlights swung through sheets of rain. Guards shouted directions. Elders herded guests toward armored transports parked on higher ground while younger wolves shifted near the tree line.

I tried to keep Ace in sight.

Then the crowd surged.

Someone hit my shoulder. My foot slid sideways, and I dropped to one knee in the mud.

"Ivy!"

A hand caught my arm and hauled me up.

Ryder.

"Where's Ace?" I shouted.

"Perimeter. Move."

He pulled me away just as a supply tent collapsed behind us.

The fastest route to the bunker disappeared under a crush of people, forcing us toward a narrow trail on the west ridge.

We ran.

By the time the shouting faded behind us, I realized we had lost the marked path.

"Tell me you know where we're going."

Ryder held his phone in front of him, its flashlight cutting a thin white tunnel through the trees.

"High ground. The lower trails flood first."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"Then no. I don't know exactly where we are. Happy?"

"Thrilled."

We pushed deeper into the forest.

The rain eased after half an hour, but the cold settled in. Wet branches slapped at my sleeves. Mud sucked at my boots.

Ryder walked several steps ahead of me without speaking.

At first I appreciated the silence.

Then I realized it wasn't neutral.

Anger rolled off him in sharp waves.

"What?" I asked.

He kept walking.

"Whatever you're thinking, just say it."

Ryder stopped.

He turned slowly.

The easy grin from earlier was gone.

"You want honesty?"

"I usually prefer it to being glared at."

"Fine." He stepped closer. "I know about you and Ace."

My stomach tightened.

"What did he tell you?"

"Enough."

"That's not an answer."

"He waited five years for you. Then you slept with him and told him it was a mistake the next day."

Heat rose through me despite the cold.

"You don't know what happened."

"I know my best friend hasn't looked at another woman seriously since he was eighteen. I know he pulled a girl out of a river and spent years pretending he wasn't keeping track of her. Then you finally show up, climb into his bed, and decide he's inconvenient."

The accusation landed on every bruise I had been trying to ignore.

"I thought he was a gigolo."

Ryder stared at me.

"A what?"

"A gigolo."

"You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

For once, Ryder had no comeback.

I kept going because if I stopped, I might cry, and I refused to cry in front of him.

"Chloe hired someone after the cafe disaster. I had been drinking. I mistook Ace for the guy she booked. He realized I was confused, made me eat, made me sober up, and told me exactly what I was doing before anything happened."

Ryder's expression shifted.

I didn't care.

"Then I woke up the next morning, found out he wasn't who I thought he was, and went to a party where my best friend introduced him as her stepbrother."

"That explains why you ran. It doesn't explain why you're still pushing him away."

I laughed once.

There was no humor in it.

"Chloe loves him."

Ryder went still.

"What?"

"She's been in love with Ace for three years. She told me after I had already slept with him. I am the only person she trusted with that secret."

Rain dripped from the ends of my hair.

"So tell me what you think I should do. Walk up to her and say, You spent days helping me survive Dean's mess, and by the way I slept with the one man you actually wanted?"

Ryder swore under his breath.

"She doesn't know?"

"No."

"Does Ace?"

"I don't think so."

He dragged a hand down his face.

The anger left him as fast as it had come.

"I didn't know."

"Exactly."

I stepped around him.

"So maybe don't call me a game player when you have half the story."

"Fair."

That stopped me.

Ryder did not strike me as a man who said that word often.

He caught up but kept a respectful distance.

"For what it's worth, I don't think you're a homewrecker."

My throat tightened.

"You did ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago I was an asshole with incomplete information. I adapt."

"How evolved of you."

His mouth twitched.

The trail climbed sharply.

Ryder took the lead again, but his behavior changed. He warned me about loose roots. Held branches aside. Slowed whenever the slick incline forced me to pick my footing carefully.

We reached a narrow shelf of rock above a ravine.

"Careful here," he said, offering his hand.

I took it.

My boot landed on loose shale.

The ground vanished.

I gasped.

Ryder caught my waist, but my momentum pulled him with me.

We slid down the embankment in a mess of mud and broken branches and hit a shallow creek hard.

Cold water closed over my shoulder.

Ryder landed beneath me with a grunt.

His arms locked around my waist before I could roll into the current.

"You hurt?"

I tested my right foot against the creek bed. Pain shot along the outside of my ankle.

"My ankle. I think I twisted it. You?"

"Ask me when I can feel my spine again."

I would have laughed if the air hadn't shifted.

His scent reached me.

Campfire smoke. Leather. A dark spice I had noticed only faintly before.

Now it hit with startling force.

My Omega lifted her head.

Not the deep, instinctive recognition Ace triggered.

Something else.

Attraction, immediate and physical, but threaded with a strange compatibility that made my skin feel too tight.

I froze over him.

Ryder did too.

His amber eyes widened.

"Oh, hell."

My hands were braced on his shoulders. His grip remained at my waist.

Neither of us moved.

The creek rushed around our legs.

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

Mine did the same.

A pulse of heat moved through me, alarming in its intensity.

Ryder released me so fast I nearly splashed backward.

He scrambled to his feet and put several yards between us.

"No."

I pushed wet hair out of my face. "No what?"

"Whatever that was."

"Helpful."

"You're Ace's mate."

The word hit me harder than the fall.

Mate.

"I'm not anything to Ace."

Ryder looked at me as if I had said the sky was green.

"You really don't know?"

My pulse stumbled.

Before I could ask what he meant, a howl sounded in the distance.

Three short notes.

Ryder's attention snapped toward the ridge.

"Search party."

He started climbing the bank, then looked back at me.

The confusion in his face had not disappeared.

Neither had mine.

He held out a hand.

"Come on."

I took it.

His fingers closed around mine, and the same dangerous current passed between us.

Ryder swore quietly.

Then, without looking at me, he muttered, "Why the hell do I want my best friend's mate?"