43 - Ben


    Now it finally makes sense why Jax and Dev behave the way they do. She never asks for help-that much I already knew-but what''s new is realizing she''s convinced herself that she has to shoulder everything alone. No one else can step in. These guys havepletely warped her understanding of what a team is supposed to be. That''s exactly where I''m going to start changing things, and I''m going to drag her along with me whether she likes it or not. But before that, I need to officially be part of this pack. I''m tired of lugging around a phone when I could simply mindlink with everyone.


    "What about Richard?" she challenges, her voice stubborn but betraying a flicker of doubt.


    "What about him?" I snap back. "He couldn''t protect your father when it mattered most. I''m still not convinced he isn''t part of the problem."


    "And Sebastian?" she presses.


    "If he didn''t see thising, he''s aplete idiot. He''s supposed to be the Delta, but my guys have done more to safeguard your pack than he ever has. So yeah, he''s part of the problem too. Either your leadership gotzy andfortable, forgetting the meaning of working for the pack, or something else is off. Either way, things are going to change. Get me inducted so we can move forward."


    She shoots me a look. "You really just give up your own pack that easily? How do I know you won''t turn on me the moment it suits you?"


    "The Moon Goddess knows I won''t." I say firmly. “And I''m not ‘giving up'' my pack. Those guys are my brothers, and they''d drop everything to help me. Alpha James woulde running if I called. My brother and dad too. This is where I''m supposed to be. You''re the only one resisting it. So, do you want an elder''s help or can you handle this yourself?"


    She mutters something as she walks past me, and I''m pretty sure I caught the word ‘asshole'' again. At this rate, that''s going to be my new name instead of Ben. But she does retrieve the ceremonial knife from behind a thick ss disy case, and a sudden thought hits me: what if she''s nning to use it on me? This whole ritualistic stuff her pack does feels so pompous sometimes. Her father never came across as arrogant, but judging by what I''m seeing, their ancestors definitely were. That''s why some of the leadership''s actions confuse me. If they care so much about image and prosperity, why aren''t they more focused on training, protecting, and growing the pack? Something''s definitely wrong. It''s up to me to figure out what. I''ve witnessed many inductions before. People switch packs for all sorts of reasons —usually for a mate, but sometimes to fill key roles. Healers, historians, trainers, even teachers are often shared between neighboring packs, and if the fit is right, the wolf bes a permanent member. I never imagined I''d leave the pack I grew up in. It''s a bittersweet feeling. This doesn''t feel forced or wrong, but it''s far fromfortable either. As old-fashioned as it sounds, in mate situations, it''s usually the female who moves to the male''s pack. My case isn''t unheard of, just lessmon. I''m giving up the ability to mindlink with Tommy and Jason, something Jer and Rayna can manage because they''re Alpha and Luna. I take a deep breath and shove those feelings down—I can''t afford to be sentimental right now. My priority is figuring out who''s trying to kill ra and why they''ve been targeting her pack for so long. Why haven''t they just attacked outright and taken over? Why didn''t the rogues or witches show themselves after her parents were killed? Too many things don''t add up from a tactical perspective.


    "Alright, Beta, give me your hand," ra says, pulling me from my swirling thoughts. Her palm is extended, already cut with a small, precise line at the base, blood pooling near her wrist.


    Her hands are smaller than mine, but those long, slender fingers are deceptive. She''s strong and muscr beneath her soft curves. She doesn''t carry herself like a hardened warrior ready to kill at a moment''s notice, but I''ve seen her fight firsthand. She''s a machine—focused, relentless, and deadly when she locks onto a target.


    I hesitate for just a moment, knowing exactly what''sing. Ready or not, the tingling sensation, the pull of the mate bond-it''s all about to intensify as we connect with another thread. I ce my palm up in hers. She''s steady, but beneath the surface, I sense her nervousness mingling with the electric current spreading from her hand to mine. Her gaze is fixed on my hand, eyes cast downward, and I can''t quite read her full expression. Her focus is on the knife, barely touching my skin, poised to seal this new bond between us.