It was already five-thirty, and there was still no sign of Marco.
Ithilien tried not to let the unease grow. Doctors were late all the time—she had lived with Marco long enough to know that emergencies appeared exactly when plans were made. Still… today of all days?
Outside, darkness had already swallowed the sky. The air carried the electric heaviness that always came before a storm, and somewhere over the town thunder rolled like distant drums.
A few minutes before six the rain finally broke, falling in thick sheets that rattled against the roof and windows.
For a brief, traitorous moment Ithilien wondered if Kidd might decide not to come after all.
The thought irritated her immediately.
Of course he would come. If he didn't show up to discuss something as serious as Fenrir, she would lose every ounce of respect she had—reluctantly, almost against her will—started to build for him during the last three weeks.
Right as the clock struck six, the doorbell rang. She snorted softly. She had already heard his footsteps on the driveway. When she opened the door, the rain-washed scent of him rushed into the hallway before he even spoke.
Smoke from a campfire. A trace of whiskey. Wet forest. And beneath it all, the deeper scent that was purely his.
Alpha.
It filled the doorway with quiet authority, as if the house had suddenly grown smaller around him. Ithilien felt it brush against her instincts, probing, testing.
She hated that she noticed. Hated even more the thought that the smell of him might linger in her home long after he left.
Kidd stood there, rain dripping from his dark hair and running along the collar of his jacket. He pushed his wet hair back with one careless motion.
For a brief second, Ithilien simply looked at him.
God… he actually is handsome.
The realization caught her off guard.
His amber eyes met hers immediately. They carried that sharp wolfish focus she had already noticed before—intense, watchful, as if he could see past the surface of things. Tonight, however, there was something else there too.
Something softer. Something… careful.
Until now she had never truly looked at him. But when he stepped inside, the small house seemed to shrink around his presence.
Kidd was easily a head taller than her, his build broad and solid in the way most wolves were. Wolves took care of their bodies out of necessity; a neglected body made for a sluggish wolf. But Kidd carried his strength differently. There was a quiet confidence in the way he moved, a fluid steadiness that suggested he had nothing to prove to anyone.
He simply existed and the world adjusted. The worst part was that some small, traitorous part of her instincts seemed to accept that without protest.
"Marco is running late," she said, leading him toward the kitchen.
The scent of rosemary and butter hung warmly in the air, wrapping the room in something almost domestic.
Kidd paused just inside the doorway, his eyes moving briefly around the space before settling back on her.
"That's good," he said after a moment, his voice low and roughened slightly by the cold rain. "I actually wanted to talk to you first."
Ithilien felt something tighten in her chest, though her expression remained calm.
"I'm listening."
She reached up to pull a stack of plates from the cupboard while Kidd leaned against the counter near the sink, folding his arms loosely across his chest.
"Yesterday…" he began, clearing his throat quietly. "It didn't exactly go the way I planned."
She waited.
"If it hadn't been for you, there's no telling how that could have ended."
She nodded once.
"You took a risk helping us," he continued. "Especially after Zeke growled at you and your brother. I know what that looked like."
There was a pause.
"I appreciate it," he said finally. "And I shouldn't have pushed you away like that. This situation is new for me too, and I'm still figuring out how to guide them through it."
Ithilien glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
The words sounded honest. There was no defensiveness in his voice, no attempt to protect his pride. If anything, there was a faint tension in his shoulders that suggested he disliked admitting it.
An alpha admitting he didn't know what to do? That alone was unusual.
"I misjudged the situation," Kidd added. "And I shouldn't have brought up your former alpha. I'm sorry for your loss. I can't imagine how painful that must have been."
The plate in Ithilien's hands stopped moving.
Her entire body went still.
"I didn't lose him," she said quietly.
The words slipped out before she could reconsider them.
"It was his choice."
The shift in the room was immediate.
Kidd's head lifted sharply.
"His choice?" he repeated slowly.
Only then did Ithilien realize what he had assumed all this time.
"You thought he was dead."
Kidd's eyes darkened.
"Isn't he?"
When she didn't answer immediately, he pushed away from the counter and stepped closer.
"Is he alive, Ithilien?"
The way he said her name sent an involuntary chill down her spine.
"Yes," she whispered.
"So…" Kidd began, then stopped again, because that word opened a path toward conclusions that hit him one after another. "Your alpha is alive."
"Yes."
"And you're here," he said, sharper now, each word deliberate. "On my territory."
"On neutral ground," she corrected automatically.
Something unpleasant flashed in his eyes.
"Don't be petty."
"I'm not," she replied. "Look, I know you're worried about your pack. Any alpha would be. But I'm not here to scout your territory. I have nothing to do with the wolves in Montana anymore. I'm here with Marco. If I wanted to threaten you, we wouldn't have been in the forest helping you yesterday."
The rain battered the windows with a steady, relentless rhythm. For a few seconds neither of them spoke. Kidd stood very still in the middle of the kitchen, but inside him something had shifted.
When Ithilien admitted the bond still existed, something under his skin stirred.
Adrahil lifted his head. The reaction was immediate and deeply unsettling.
Kidd had lived with his wolf long enough to recognize instinct from thought, and this was not his own reaction alone. It was deeper, older, coming from the part of him that did not care about politics, territory, or complicated histories.
Adrahil was focused on her.
Kidd forced a slow breath into his lungs, but the scent in the room had changed.
Ithilien's jasmine was stronger now, sharpened by tension and emotion. It filled the air between them like something tangible, something his wolf immediately wanted to move closer to.
That alone was troubling. Adrahil did not react this way to strangers.
He certainly should not react this way to another alpha's bonded mate. Kidd clenched his jaw.
Across the room Ithilien lowered her gaze for a moment, clearly bracing herself for his response, but she did not step back.
If anything, that made it worse.
Adrahil pushed forward again, curious, restless.
Kidd felt the urge to close the distance between them, to step closer, to confirm what his instincts were trying to tell him but he stayed where he was.
Barely.
"Is that even possible?" he asked quietly, his voice rougher now.
Ithilien didn't immediately answer. Her shoulders tightened slightly, and the scent of her frustration spread through the room.
"Yes," she said at last.
Adrahil shifted again.
The wolf did not understand the conversation. He only understood signals. And Ithilien was sending too many of them. Her scent was calm but fractured, carrying the lingering trace of another alpha's bond while something new—something unclaimed—flickered beneath it.
It confused the wolf. Confusion made wolves restless.
Kidd exhaled slowly through his nose. A cold shiver slid down her spine.
"And he chose someone else," he continued, forcing the words out carefully, "but didn't break the bond."
The statement left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Across from him Ithilien lowered her head slightly, her jaw tightening.
"Yes."
The confirmation sent another sharp ripple through him.
Adrahil did not like that answer.
Not because the other alpha existed but because the bond still lingered.
Something in the wolf bristled at it.
Kidd suddenly became very aware of how close they were standing.
Too close.
The kitchen felt smaller than it had a few minutes ago.
Her scent drifted toward him again, warm and steady despite the tension, and for a brief moment Adrahil pushed forward harder, urging him closer.
Kidd locked every muscle in his body. The urge to move was sudden and irrational. He hated it.
"Interesting," he said at last, though the word sounded rougher than intended. A dry laugh followed.
"And here I was feeling sorry for him."
Ithilien lifted her head then, her blue eyes meeting his with sudden sharpness.
For a second their gazes locked.
Adrahil went completely still. The wolf recognized something. Not a threat nor submission but something far more complicated. Kidd felt it like a pulse through his chest.
Dangerous.
Unwanted.
Impossible.
He broke the moment first, forcing the tension into something colder.
At that exact moment the sound of a car pulling into the driveway cut through the charged silence - Marco had arrived.
And Kidd was suddenly very grateful for the interruption.