NYRA

The junkyard was quieter at night. Empty husks of old machines, rusted bones of a world that had long since stopped caring. I liked it here, dead things didn’t judge or rather didn’t ask questions.

I crouched beside a busted-out engine frame, tossing screws into a tin just to hear them clink. Some part of me hoped the noise would drown out everything else. Orran’s voice, Liesl’s grip on Kade’s arm, the way his eyes had burned right through me like he wanted something and that was…. me.

No, maybe I was just thinking too much. I sighed.

“I figured I’d find you here,” Jaxon’s voice drifted over.

I didn’t look up. “Lucky guess?”

“You always come here when you’re trying not to feel anything.”

I sighed. “Then maybe you shouldn’t ruin it.”

He dropped down beside me anyway, close but not touching me. He always did that, hovered at the edge of something that could’ve been more if we weren’t who we were.

“I’m not here to fight,” he said after a moment. “I just... you seemed off at the ceremony.”

I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the dark sky above the twisted frames. “Everyone seems off when Orran’s pretending we’re one big happy pack.”

Silence stretched between us. Then his fingers brushed mine. Just barely.

“I miss you, Nyra,” he said. “Not just you who used to laugh. The one who used to let people in.”

I sighed then turned slowly to him, and for a second, the wind stilled. His eyes were softer than I could have remembered. Full of the boy who literally knew me and all my secrets.

I got lost and leaned in, almost. He did too but then I pulled back immediately, the truth settling heavy in my chest.

“I want peace, Jaxon,” I said quietly. “But not like this. Not by pretending I belong to a world that killed my father.”

His hand dropped, and the hope in his face faded just enough to make my heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, standing. “But I need to stop confusing comfort with connection.”

And I left him there, surrounded by rust and moonlight.

*

Silver Tongue smelled like ink, metal, and cold fire when I returned. It was late, and I didn’t expect company. But the bell chimed anyway.

I didn't expect anyone but I froze when he stepped in. In his black coat again, and this time dusted with snow.

“I want another,” Kade said.

My brows lifted. “The first one wasn’t enough?”

“It wasn’t deep enough.”

I locked the door behind him, unsure if it was to keep others out or keep myself steady. He sat without being told.

I prepped the tools, my gloves cold against my hands. “Where?”

He pulled up his sleeve, revealing his forearm. There was a line there. bare skin, smooth and untouched.

“Here,” he said.

I stepped forward, and this time, when my fingers touched him, the heat didn’t spike like a shock, it simmered. Slow. Heavy sndt Hungry.

Kita stirred again. Not just alert but wanting.

“You always hide like this?” he asked suddenly, voice low.

I blinked. “Like what?”

“Behind being angry enough to keep everyone away.”

I met his eyes. “Says the one who won’t even give a name.”

In fact I knew his name was Kade but somehow, I wanted him to tell me.

He smiled faintly. “Maybe names don’t matter when wolves already know each other.”

I didn’t answer. Just marked the spot and pressed the needle in. This time, when our skin touched, it wasn’t instinct, it was tension. And gods, it burned so good I nearly forgot to breathe.

The silence stretched. Then he stood, rolling down his sleeve, fingers brushing where I had inked him.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

He didn’t look back as he walked out. I locked the door behind him, my heart was beating so fast. Like something had just been said without words.

I didn’t sleep that night. I obviously couldn't because gods forgive me because I was my mate and it felt like we had started something that couldn't be undone.

Morning came sharp and cold.

I’d barely opened the shop when two of Orran’s guards appeared, flanking the door like wolves with nowhere left to hunt. Black cloaks. Blank eyes. I knew better than to ask questions.

“You’re summoned,” one said simply.

I wiped my hands on a rag and tried to keep my voice even. “Now?”

They didn’t answer and i had no other choice but to follow. Being reluctant will only cost me a lot.

They didn’t take the usual path to the Hall. We wound behind the settlement, through frost-covered grass and silent alleys, until we reached the Elder Chamber. Old stone. Black banners. A place that smelled like dried herbs, burnt parchment, and decisions made in the dark.

The doors opened, five chairs waited at the far end, each filled as everyone's attention fell on me.

Orran stood beside them.

“You sent for me?” I said, keeping my voice cold.

Elder Malek tilted his head. “You’ve been seen. With the outsider.”

My spine stiffened. “He’s not—”

“Not what?” Orran cut in. “Not a threat? Not stirring unrest?”

I clenched my jaw. “He came for a mark. That’s all.”

Elder Syra leaned forward. “And did you sense nothing... else?”

I hesitated. That pause was enough.

Malek’s voice sharpened. “You’ve been warned before, Nyra. Your blood is not pure. Your history, not clean. We granted you shelter, not indulgence.”

I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “And what exactly am I being accused of? Tattooing someone who paid?”

Syra’s smile was thin. “You know what you are. We’ve long let you pretend otherwise.”

Orran stepped forward, eyes cold. “Stay away from the outsider. Or next time, this isn’t just a warning.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Arguing would be useless. I was already branded guilty in their eyes, maybe always had been.

The guards escorted me out in silence.

By the time I returned to Silver Tongue, the snow had started to fall harder. I sank behind the counter, breathing in the scent of ink and iron, like it could ground me.

Even after what they did, they still had the guts to accuse me of everything!