The blizzard from last night had created deep snowdrifts that piled up around the building, trapping us in a white prison.

There was nowhere to escape, so I locked myself in my room and feigned a cold to avoid Sebastian.

Three days dragged by.

I refused every meal—breakfast, lunch, and dinner—with Sebastian, insisting through the door that I was too sick to join him.

"Let me call for a healer," Sebastian suggested one morning.

"I'm fine. It's just a bad cold," I lied, hoping he'd take the hint and leave me alone.

But he didn't.

During the day, he would knock on my door, bringing meals, books, anything that might draw me out or spark a conversation. I was careful never to say more than a few words before I took his offerings and closed the door shut.

In the evenings, I'd lie in bed, holding my breath, waiting to hear his footsteps pacing in the room next door. My thoughts would start to wander, and I'd imagine him shirtless, moving restlessly across the floor, his pyjama bottoms hanging low on his hips. I'd sense this flutter in my chest, then wonder what it would be like if he were right there beside me, close enough to touch.

It was agony, pure and consuming, sitting there, listening to his voice, feeling the tension coil tighter between us with every word. The need for him gnawed at me, relentless, raw, impossible to ignore.

I knew all it would take was a single knock on his door. The scene played on repeat in my head—how he'd open it, eyes dark with the same hunger that tore at me. He'd pull me in, not just into his arms, but into his bed. No words, no hesitation, just the overwhelming heat of him, the way his body would feel against mine.

Each night, the dreams tormented me. His lips on mine, hot and demanding, his hands roaming over my skin as if he couldn't get enough of me. The warmth of him, his body pressed against mine, the weight of him, the way he'd make everything else fade away.

The desire inside me was insatiable. I craved him, needed to feel his touch, to lose myself in him entirely. It wasn't just about love—it was something deeper, more primal. A need to complete the bond, to surrender to him, body and soul.

The bond tugged at me constantly, eroding the last of my resolve.

I reasoned that it was because of Sebastian being nearby. I had to keep reassuring myself that all would get better once the snow had cleared and I was able to leave the house.

On the fourth morning after the blizzard, my wish came true. A snow plough rumbled up the driveway, clearing the snow and reconnecting us with the outside world.

Impatiently, I threw on some clothes and bolted out of the house, dying to put some distance between me and Sebastian to ease the never-ending ache in my veins.

I then left the house, aimlessly wandering down the grit covered road, my boots crunching with each step.

The entire ranch was draped in a thick blanket of white. In some fields, the snow was so deep that only the tips of the fence posts peeked out from the thick layer of white.

During my walk, an unusual feeling of relief came over me, as if the more I strolled, the more I distanced myself from the medallion, Devon, and the stress that had been weighing on me in the past few days.

Tilting my head back, I let the pale sunlight bathe my face, the icy air stinging my cheeks. It felt good—refreshing—to finally be outside, away from it all.

"Mabel?" A voice called from across the field, cutting through the quiet and pulling me back from my brief moment of peace.

I looked forward and saw Rollo, my eldest brother, trudging up the track towards me. His black marshal uniform standing out against the white landscape and he appeared to be scowling at me.

I raised a hand to give him a tentative wave.

This was the first time I'd seen him since Amber's wedding party.

"I heard you were still here. Why?" His words hit like an accusation as he closed the distance between us.

I let out a weary sigh. "I'm just staying a few extra days. That's all."

"Then you'll be gone?" He asked, with apprehension.

"Yes, once the Winter Moon Festival is over," I replied.

The tension drained from his face, and he let out a long sigh of relief.

I raised an eyebrow. "Were you worried I was going to stay longer?"

Rollo nodded his head. "Yeah, we all were."

We being my parents, the pack, everyone who had abandoned me after the wedding. Except Amber. She was the only one who ever bothered to make contact.

Irritation bubbled up inside me, but I shoved it down. There's no point in getting upset about a family that didn't want me. There were more important things to be upset about.

My focus flicked to his jacket, and I noted the white embroidered letters 'MARSHAL' on his jacket pocket.

"So, you're a marshal now?" I asked, switching subjects.

"Yeah, I've been one for five years," he replied.

Of course. Following in Dad's footsteps, the way he always had. Rollo enjoyed being the one in control, the one with authority.

"Where's your patch?" I asked, knowing that each marshal had their own turf to take care of.

"The creek," he replied flatly.

"Oh," I said, my voice going up an octave in surprise. "That's interesting."

The creek was a stretch of land to the east, scarred and ruined by years of mining. A polluted stream, winding through the terrain, gave the area its name.

Few wolves lived there, and those who did had no choice. Hector moved those he didn't trust or like to the creek. It was his form of a silent banishment.

To the pack, anyone living there was one step away from being fully outcast.

It stunned me that Hector would assign Rollo, the son of his beta, to that place.

"Yeah, well, Hector assigned me there shortly after your exile," Rollo said, insinuating his assignment was somehow my fault. "I had hoped that Sebastian might make me his beta, but he chose Lachlan Byrne over me. The Mason name is worth nothing nowadays."

Again, another barb.

I kept my composure and replied, "Sebastian seems to enjoy breaking from tradition."

"Our family have been loyal to the Cross family for eleven generations," he said, his chest puffed slightly. "You'd think that centuries of loyal service could withstand a single blemish in our family's history. But it seems the alpha and the pack are more fixated on you than on our long-standing record as dependable betas."

He paused, the pride fading from his expression. "Mabel," he said, his voice lower, more personal now, "I need to ask a favour."

Curious, I raised my eyebrows and replied, "What do you need?"

"Could you keep away from Sebastian?" he asked.

Heat blistered across my cheeks, his request catching me off guard. "Why?"

"The more you are near him, the more others notice you and remember it's our family that you belong to," he said.

I clenched my fists into tight balls, embarrassment quickly turning into anger.

"Are you that ashamed of me? Even after all these years?" I snapped bitterly. "Why did you ask me to come back, if you never wanted me here in the first place?"

"I was following orders," Rollo said, his voice rising. "Do you honestly believe that any of us wanted you back here? Especially, after the hell we went through because of you?"

"What did I do?" I demanded.

"You've angered the Goddesses, Mabel," he shouted. "You somehow pissed them off, so they decided not to change you."

"Rollo, you watched me grow up—name one thing that I did that could possibly have upset the Goddesses," I said.

"I don't know. The weird freaky stuff you used tell mom you could see. The way you never fitted in anywhere, with any of the kids," he said, struggling to come up with answers.

"Lots of kids don't fit in, but they still transform," I argued.

"Well, you did something, and now we're all paying the price," he grumbled, kicking at the snow with his boot. "Dad got screwed with early retirement. They assigned me to the stupid creek. Then Amber had to marry that loser."

"I'm sorry, I had no idea," I whispered.

Rollo's expression turned distant, and a shadow fell over his face.

"Hector changed towards us the night after your exile. He made life unbearable for all of us," he explained.

Guilt gnawed at me, even though I knew deep down it wasn't my fault. But still, if I had been born normal, none of this would've happened. My family wouldn't be suffering.

"Rollo—" I started, but he cut me off, pulling something from his wallet.

When I glanced downward, my world shifted upon seeing a worn photo handed to me. Two little girls, no older than five, with wide, innocent eyes and tight curls framing their sweet faces.

My voice wavered as I asked, "Are these your kids?"

"Inez and Harley," he said softly, pointing to each girl. "They're twins."

I blinked back the sting of tears, my breath catching in my throat. My nieces. I had nieces, and I hadn't even known.

"They started school this year," Rollo continued, his voice tight. "At first the twins were treated like normal kids. But now that you're back, parents are pulling their kids away from them. No one wants their children playing with the nieces of a never wolf."

I stared at the photo, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces. These beautiful little girls, who'd done nothing wrong, were suffering because of me.

"I didn't know," I whispered, handing the picture back to him, my hand trembling. The reality of what I'd cost my family pressed down on me, almost suffocating me.

"Mabel," Rollo's voice cracked, but he quickly masked it with a cough. "I love you. You're still my sister. But the longer you stay, the harder it gets for all of us. Especially for them."

I swallowed back the tears, forcing myself to stand tall, even though I sensed like I was breaking inside. "I'll be gone soon. I promise."

I handed him the photo, my fingers brushing against the worn edges. "Hug them for me, okay?"

Without waiting for his response, I turned away, the lump in my throat tightening with every step I took. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't let them fall. Not yet. Not until I was out of sight.

Not until I was alone again.

I hurried down the road, not sure where I was going. A figure emerged at the end of the track. Tall and devastatingly handsome.

It was Sebastian.

Oh no—not him, not now.

I spun around, desperately searching for another path, but the snowbanks piled either side of the road trapped me. Shit.

I held out a hand. "Stay back, I'm contagious," I warned, my voice shaking.

"I don't care," Sebastian said, frustration seeping into his voice. "I haven't seen you for nearly two days. I can't stop thinking about—"

His words cut off as his concentration locked onto the trail of wet tears glistening down my cheeks. A dark storm cloud descended over his brow.

"What's wrong? Who upset you?" he demanded, stepping closer.

"No one's upset me. I'm just sick," I muttered, wiping my wet lashes with the back of my sleeve. This was humiliating—I wasn't the type to cry, especially in front of him.

"Mabel, don't lie to me," he pleaded softly, placing a hand over his heart like he was experiencing my sorrow through our bond. "I know something's wrong."

Gah. Why did he have to be so nice?

"I told you, it's just sickness. I probably caught it from sleeping in your mould-infested trailer," I said, trying to push past him.

But he wasn't giving up. He fell in step beside me, his presence overwhelming. "It's your brother. I can smell him. What did he say?"

"Please, Sebastian, just stop," I sighed, wishing he'd drop it.

"I can order him to back off. I'll make sure he respects you. He won't dare cross me," Sebastian insisted, his taking that authoritative bossy alpha tone.

"This has nothing to do with Rollo," I shot back. "And even if it did, I don't need you rescuing me. I can handle my own family. I can fight my own battles."

He stepped in front of me, forcing me to stop, his piercing blue eyes holding mine. In the pale morning light, he looked so achingly handsome, his concern softening the sharp lines of his face.

My heart turned over in my chest and I was unable to pull away.

"Mabel," he breathed, reaching out and swiping thumb over my tear-stained cheek. "Do you remember when I was just a scared kid. You sat with me, told me stories, brought joy and light into a very dark time."

"I remember, the hidden treasure, the rogue hunting," I replied, recollecting those silly dreams we had.

"I never forgot that. Even when they sent me away, I held onto those dreams, and when I grew out of them, I held onto the dream that we'd meet again," he said, taking my hand in his.

His touch was warm and tingly. He leaned in, his body shielding me from the wind, surrounding me with his heat and scent.

My breath hitched as I looked up at him through wet lashes.

"You saved me back then," he whispered, his words so gentle they almost hurt. "I've dreamed of the day I could return the favour. Let me help you, Mabel."

"Sebastian, I—" I started, but my voice faltered, under the crushing weight of everything I couldn't tell him.

How could he help when the truth would put Amber in danger?

He didn't know about Devon or the medallion—and I couldn't let him find out. If Sebastian knew the truth, he'd punish Amber for stealing the medallion and putting the entire pack at risk.

I didn't have choice. I had to keep lying, keep him in the dark. Let him think this was about me, about some personal struggle he could fix. Anything but the truth, which would destroy the only person who ever truly cared for me.

But the way he looked at me, so earnest, so desperate to be my saviour—it tore me to pieces.

"Mabel, please," he said, his voice raw as his gaze searched mine, pleading for something, anything, to hold on to.

And just like when we were kids, my heart twisted painfully. I loved that he wanted to help, but I knew better. Next week, the Winter Moon Festival would be over, and I'd be gone, out of his life for good.

The thought of never seeing him again, of never feeling his warmth, hit me like a blow.

I couldn't let him help me. But I could give him something else, something that we both burned for.

"Sebastian," I whispered, stepping closer until our bodies were almost touching. My heart was racing, my chest tight. "Kiss me."