Kael noticed it before anyone said a word.
It was subtle—the way the air around her shifted when Alaric spoke. The way her attention sharpened, not submissive, not eager, but engaged. The way her body didn't brace when Silas stepped closer, didn't recoil when Rowan's voice drifted near her ear with that infuriating ease.
She chose when to listen.
She chose when to respond.
And Kael—
Kael was no longer at the center of that choice.
The realization crawled under his skin like an itch he couldn't scratch.
They'd been walking for hours, the forest thinning into rough terrain broken by stone and low brush. Kael kept his pace deliberately brisk, half-expecting her to fall behind.
She didn't.
Not once.
Her steps were quieter now. More sure. Her breathing steadier. She watched the land the way wolves who belonged outside packs did—alert, adaptable, learning fast.
It irritated him more than it should have.
"You're slowing down," Kael said finally, not looking at her.
Rowan snorted. "You've said that three times in the last hour."
Kael shot him a look. "Then maybe you should listen."
Rowan only grinned. "Or maybe you're just used to being followed."
That landed closer than Kael liked.
He stopped abruptly, turning on them. "You think this is a stroll? You think the forest gives a damn about your charm?"
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "We've survived worse."
Kael's gaze flicked to her automatically.
She was watching him now—not guarded, not impressed.
Measuring.
Something tight coiled in his chest.
"Don't look at me like that," he snapped.
Silence fell.
Her expression didn't change. "Like what?"
Like she sees through you.
Kael scoffed. "Like you're deciding something."
"I am," she said calmly.
That was mistake number one.
Kael stepped closer, invading her space again, expecting instinct to do what words no longer did.
She didn't step back.
She held her ground.
"You think because a few men looked at you, you suddenly have power?" he said lowly. "You're still exiled. Still bonded to an Alpha who—"
"—doesn't own me," she finished quietly.
The bond flared at the words—sharp, furious, distant.
Kael felt it like static across his nerves.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he growled.
She tilted her head. "So are you."
Mistake number two was touching her.
It wasn't aggressive—not fully. His fingers closed around her wrist, grip firm, meant to anchor, to remind her who'd pulled her from the edge of death.
The reaction was immediate.
Silas moved first.
Kael barely had time to register the blur of motion before a hand closed around his forearm, twisting just enough to force release.
"Don't," Silas said calmly.
Kael ripped his arm back. "This doesn't concern you."
Silas met his glare evenly. "It does when you forget she's not yours."
Rowan's tone was light, but his eyes weren't. "Yeah, man. That wasn't a good look."
Alaric didn't speak.
That was worse.
He simply stepped closer to her—not touching—but close enough that Kael felt the shift in gravity.
Protective.
Intentional.
Chosen.
Kael's temper snapped.
"You think you're better than me?" he snarled at Alaric. "Because you wear clean clothes and smile like you're civilized?"
Alaric's voice was calm. "No. I think you're angry because you assumed something that was never promised."
Kael laughed harshly. "I kept her alive."
"And?" Alaric asked. "So did she."
The bond surged violently.
Not Kael's.
The Alpha's.
Rage bled through the fractured connection, raw and unrestrained this time, fueled by proximity and tension and too many male presences surrounding what he still, deep down, considered his.
She swayed slightly, breath hitching.
Alaric reacted instantly.
He turned toward her, concern etched into his features. "Are you—"
Kael lost it.
"DON'T TOUCH HER!"
The shout ripped out of him, echoing through the trees.
Birds scattered.
The forest went still.
She looked at him then.
Really looked.
Not with fear.
Not with confusion.
With something colder.
"Do not raise your voice at me," she said.
Every word landed like a strike.
"You don't get to command me," she continued. "Not after how you've spoken to me. Not after how you've treated me."
Kael's chest heaved. "I'm the reason you're still breathing."
"And you keep reminding me like I owe you," she shot back. "I don't."
That was mistake number three.
"You'd be dead without me," Kael snapped. "Cold. Broken. Crawling back to a pack that didn't want you."
Silence slammed down.
Even Rowan stopped smiling.
Silas's jaw tightened.
Alaric's eyes went flat.
She didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't cry.
She simply said, "You're wrong."
Kael scoffed. "Am I?"
"Yes," she replied steadily. "Because I didn't survive because of you."
She stepped back—away from him, toward them.
"I survived despite you."
The words shattered something ugly and fragile inside Kael.
His wolf surged, furious, wounded, snarling at the loss of position, the loss of control, the loss of something he hadn't realized he wanted until it was slipping away.
"You think they care about you?" he spat, gesturing at the others. "You're a novelty. A way to piss off an Alpha. That's all."
Alaric moved then.
Not fast.
Not aggressive.
Just enough to place himself fully between Kael and her.
"That's enough," he said quietly.
Kael's vision went red.
"Move."
"No."
Rowan exhaled slowly. "Man… don't."
Kael snarled. "Get out of my way."
Silas's voice was iron. "Stand down."
Kael laughed—a sharp, broken sound. "Or what?"
Silas met his gaze unflinching. "Or you'll prove exactly why she shouldn't trust you."
That did it.
Kael turned away abruptly, stalking toward the trees, fists clenched, breath ragged. He put distance between them because if he didn't—
He'd do something he couldn't take back.
Behind him, the bond pulsed again.
Not possessive.
Not angry.
Resigned.
That was worse.
Kael slammed his fist into a tree, bark splitting under the force.
"Damn it," he hissed.
He heard footsteps approach but didn't turn.
"She chose," Rowan said quietly from behind. "And it wasn't you."
Kael's throat burned.
"I didn't want to be chosen," he snapped.
Rowan sighed. "Yeah. You did. You just wanted it without changing."
Kael said nothing.
Through the bond—faint, distant—he felt her again.
Not pain.
Not longing.
Distance.
And somewhere deeper than anger, deeper than jealousy, something else took root.
Fear.
Because Kael finally understood the truth.
He hadn't lost her because of the other men.
He'd lost her because he tried to own what was never his.
And now—
He wasn't even her favorite mistake.