He leaves me Pregnant, My Only Hope is a Playboy Alpha - Werwolf Shifter Romance Podcast

The Alpha's Reluctant Mate: A Paranormal Shifter Romance. Written by Lily Robert.

One. It begins with a faded Bond. True mates finding each other, but not for Sage. The bond is between a girl named Phoebe and Ben, the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. The man she was supposed to mate with.

"I'm sorry," Ben says, as if those words are supposed to make Sage feel better. They don't. Why should his apology matter? She doesn't want his regret or his pity. What she wants is for him to love her again. But there's no trace of that love left.

She stares silently at her ex's face. That handsome, beloved face she once thought she'd wake up to for the rest of her life. It used to bring her so much joy just looking at him, thinking of him. None of this feels real. It's like a storm, like being tossed by rain and waves, struggling to stay afloat. It feels like drowning.

But then it doesn't. Because Sage won't let it. She refuses to drown.

She should have seen it coming, really. Ben had proposed, she had said yes. They were going to be mated. It was a done deal. But then Ben met Phoebe. Human Phoebe. Student by day, bade by night. Perfectly insignificant Phoebe. Until, of course, she turned out to be Ben's faded mate.

"Please say something," he whispers. He's leaving Sage for her. For the human girl he barely knows. Years of friendship, love, and trust down the drain, like they meant nothing.

What is there to say? Around them, in the bustling coffee shop, humans go about their days, scrolling their phones, nibbling muffins, getting into petty arguments. How simple their lives seem. Earlier, as Sage had waited for Ben, she'd seen a young girl being dumped by her boyfriend, bursting into tears as though it were the worst thing to ever happen to her. But it's different for humans. When they break up, it hurts, but eventually, the pain fades. New love comes, new relationships form. Shifters, though. Shifters are part wolf, and wolves mate for life.

"We've been courting for 5 years," Sage murmurs, numb. What is she supposed to do now? She and Ben were practically mates already. All that was missing was the bond, the claim. Ben had proposed. In 2 weeks, she was supposed to be his. Her dress is waiting for her at home. They'd been intimate more than once. Other shifters would smell it on her. She'd let herself be branded, almost as good as claimed.

"I've become your mistress," she reminds Ben, her face flushing with heat at her words.

His expression crumbles. "I don't know what to say," he sighs.

"I really am sorry."

"You said you loved me."

"I did," Ben replies, then quickly shuts his mouth. Past tense.

Sage forces a self-deprecating smile. "She's my faded mate," Ben murmurs, as if that explains everything logically.

Sage knows it does. Faded bonds are the stuff of legends. The one special connection every shifter longs for. But they're rare, and people don't go through life expecting them. Sage certainly hadn't expected her boyfriend of 5 years to find his faded mate and instantly cast her aside.

"You don't even know her," she argues.

"I can't explain it," Ben replies sadly. "I just know she's right for me."

"That's all? She's a human," Sage reminds him. "You won't even be able to live among the pack anymore."

Ben shuts his eyes, his expression pained. Sage's heart aches at the sight.

"You won't be able to bear your children," she adds carefully.

"I know." Ben's gaze meets hers, resolute. "But she's part of me now."

"You'd understand if you had a right," Sage snaps, to her feet. "I guess it's impossible to explain falling in love in just a minute to someone who doesn't have a faded bond."

Ben looks pained again. Sage ignores how that look affects her. It's not fair. She shouldn't be concerned about his well-being anymore. She should be focusing on fixing her own heart. But Ben had courted her for years. They'd been friends even longer. He'd been there for her when no one else would. Despite her dead mother and her lack of scent, she can't ignore the fear she knows must be plaguing his heart.

"Did you tell Noah yet?" she asks reluctantly.

"Sage," Ben growls lowly. He looks nervous, glancing around as if worried someone overheard. While people didn't comment on you calling my brother by his name when you were my fiance, things are different now.

Sage rolls her eyes. But Ben urgently squeezes her hand. "I'm serious," he presses. "He's your Alpha, and you will refer to him as such."

"Fine," Sage snaps, turning on her heel. "I get it. I'm not part of the family. I never was, and I never will be."

"Wait," Ben's voice halts her, filling her heart with foolish hope. "Will you help us?" he asked softly, almost quietly.

"Us?" Sage asks, genuinely confused. But then Ben gives her a look, and her heart plummets. She is such a fool.

"Me and Phoebe," he says. "We need your help."

Before Sage can protest, before she can call him out for daring to ask such a cruel thing of her, he adds, "I know this is a lot to ask, but Sage, she's human. A week ago, she didn't even know shifters existed, let alone faded bonds. She's scared and confused, and you know the pack will hate her for being different, for taking me away."

"You mean Noah will hate her for taking you away," Sage observes.

"Sage," Ben scolds.

"You mean the Alpha will hate her for taking you away," she corrects herself. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Ben gives her a look she can't quite interpret. "You could speak to him. He listens to you."

Sage's jaw drops. "Your brother doesn't listen to anyone, least of all me. He hates my guts."

"And still, you convinced him to accept you as my mate," Ben argues. "Can't you get him to accept Phoebe?"

Sage sighs. Honestly, she still has no idea how she got Noah to give them his blessing. He'd never liked her, not even a little. In fact, when Ben had told him about his desire to mate with Sage, his brother had looked downright disgusted.

"He agreed because he loves you, Ben. He'll accept Phoebe as well, you'll see."

"Not if your father invokes the Forsaken Claim."

Two. There's banging on Sage's door, but she ignores it. There's only one person who could be home at this hour, and Sage is not in the mood to deal with Olivia right now. She's not in the mood to deal with anyone, really. Who could even begin to understand? The worst part about losing Ben is that Sage has no one to talk to about it. Because usually, whenever something bothers or hurts her, the one person she'd go to is him.

Ben had been the very first friend she made after joining her current pack. Her father had decided to move them because after the accident, after her mother's death, Sage had become a sort of social pariah in her old pack. It couldn't be helped, probably because of the shock. Sage's scent had completely vanished, along with her dead mother. And a wolf with no scent, who couldn't be read or understood by its peers? Well, no one wanted such a wolf around. At least in the new pack, no one had known her before the scent loss. So instead of hostile weariness, she was met with complete indifference. A step up.

She had made no effort to get to know her new packmates after the move, too worried about attracting attention to even attempt to be sociable.

"Sage, will you open this door?" Olivia growls from outside her room. But one day, Ben, the Alpha's youngest son and the pride and joy of the pack, second only to the quintessence of perfection that was his older brother, came to sit with her at lunch. He'd smiled and asked questions, and when Sage had barely replied, too intimidated and disbelieving to engage, he told her about his life as if they'd been friends forever. Sage had thought it was a one-time thing, but the next day, Ben showed up again. And the next. And the next.

"If you don't open up right this instant," Olivia insists, "I swear to God, Sage..."

When her parents ignored her in favor of her new little sister, she'd tell Ben. When she worried she was forgetting her mother, the sound of her laugh, or what she liked to eat, she'd tell Ben. They shared everything with each other. That didn't stop even when the two of them stumbled into the courting phase of their relationship. Sharing their feelings had never been a struggle. Just like he'd been her confidant as a friend, Ben remained her confidant as her boyfriend. He was her person, the one she shared her most intimate thoughts with.

A loud crash interrupts her thoughts, and suddenly Sage's bed covers are pulled aside to reveal Olivia's furious face.

"Is it true?" she asks without preamble.

Sage sighs. She's really not in the mood for this. "I suppose you've heard about Ben."

Olivia grunts. "So it is true." She pales, her lips purse, and her hands begin to shake, as if she's the one who just lost everything. In her mind, she probably is.

"This is exactly why I told you to keep your virtue intact," Olivia scolds.

"What does my virtue have to do with anything?" Sage retorts, though she knows exactly what Olivia means. Young shifters were encouraged not to engage in any sexual activities during courting to avoid becoming stuck with a partner too quickly. Wolves mated for life, not just because breaking a mating bond was painful and shifters rarely survived it. Finding a new partner after being mated, unless the previous bond was broken by death, was challenging. Traces of a past claim could be smelled on a wolf by their new partner for a long time, even after the previous bond had been broken. But wolves were possessive by nature, and they didn't like that. So to secure a mating bond, you avoided becoming too intimate before the union was set in stone.

"We might have had a chance at finding you a good rebound if only you'd done the smart thing and kept your pants on," Olivia says, giving Sage a sharp look. "But Ben's scent is imprinted all over you now. No one else will have you."

Sage snorts. "Who says I even want anyone else?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Olivia snaps. "Where would you even live without a mate? Certainly not in this house." That much is unsaid, but Sage gets the implication nonetheless. One didn't tend to live in a pack without a mate for long after reaching adulthood. Eventually, your packmates would start to view you with suspicion, seeing you as a potential threat to their own unions. Wolves who hadn't secured a bond by a certain age often ended up banished from the pack.

"This won't stand," Olivia exclaims, rising to her feet. "You're as good as mated to that boy already. You've been courting for years. He can't just go back on his word for some human he barely knows, especially after he slept with you."

"She's his faded mate, Olivia," Sage argues tiredly.

"Will you stop acting like none of this matters?" her stepmother snaps. "Aren't you even the tiniest bit upset about being left by the man you love?"

Sage clenches her jaw in frustration. "What do you want from me? Anguish? Despair? Me pulling my hair out?"

"Who says she even is his faded mate?" Olivia challenges abruptly, shifting the conversation. "Who says he isn't faking it?"

Speechless, Sage can't even think of a response. Why would Ben fake such a thing?

"Your father won't let this pass, and neither will I," Olivia assures Sage, as if she thinks she's being comforting. She isn't.

"Ben was worried you or Dad would invoke The Forsaken Claim," Sage says carefully.

"But I assured him you'd never do that." A certain uneasiness spreads through her when, instead of replying, Olivia crosses her arms, giving Sage an expectant look.

"Dinner," Olivia nods toward the door. "Shouldn't you get started on that?"

Sage sighs. There's no point in arguing, so she exits her room. She doesn't care about what Olivia or her father say. If she can't have Ben, she'll never take another mate. Better to be alone than in bad company. Sage rather likes being on her own. If she has to go rogue and live without a pack to be free, then so be it. At least that's what she tells herself. Until a week later, she realizes her period is late.

Three. Sage is doomed. There's no other way to put it. She is well and truly doomed, and no amount of glow-up is going to change that. Why is she even wearing this big, puffy red dress and the heels? God, she's tall enough as it is.

"This is stupid," she complains, pulling out a golden pin from her overly complicated hairdo.

"You look lovely," Olivia quips, her voice overly chipper. "Please try and keep it that way."

"Why should I? It's not like dressing up is going to make anyone forget I was supposed to be Ben's mate."

"This is about looking presentable to better serve your case," Olivia objects.

"I'm pregnant," Sage snaps, opening the car door. "Case closed. Game over."

Olivia abruptly pulls her back inside and shuts the door. "Will you keep it down?" she growls, her nails digging into Sage's forearm. "Nobody knows about that yet, and we're going to make sure it stays that way."

"How?" Sage rolls her eyes. "People are bound to find out sooner or later. By that time, you'll be mated, and everyone will assume the baby is your new partner's."

Sage raises a tired hand to rub her itchy eyelids, before remembering there's eyeshadow on them. "Not only does she doubt anyone will mate with her, but even if someone did, it doesn't feel right keeping the baby a secret," Sage murmurs, earning an annoyed scoff from Olivia.

"Would you rather we tell the truth and have our Alpha force Ben to take responsibility?"

"You said you couldn't live with yourself if he had to give up his faded mate because of you."

Sage's heart squeezes painfully. "And I meant it," she says firmly. "No one can know about this. I don't want Ben to suffer."

Olivia gives her a hardened look. "Your baby will be the one to suffer if you have to leave the pack because you can't find a mate," she sneers. "Shifter children are difficult to raise even within a pack. Unprotected and alone, you wouldn't be able to care for your..."

"I know," Sage cuts her off, heart in her throat. "Why do you think I agreed to play dress-up and come with you tonight?"

"I know," she refuses to be the type of mother who lets her child down. "Then chin up and make the best of it, because this is your last shot," Olivia snaps. "Either we find you a mate tonight, or..."

"...or I tell Ben the truth," Sage finishes, clenching her jaw.

I know. Olivia is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either she miraculously finds a mate, or she'll have to ruin Ben's happiness by forcing him to take responsibility for their future child. Sage can't possibly leave the pack now that she's going to be a mother. Her baby will need the protection of the pack and the guidance of an Alpha.

"Your father is requesting a meeting as we speak," Olivia says, pushing Sage forward. "All you have to do is keep quiet and avoid drawing attention to yourself."

Sage lets herself be led to a house she's been to a hundred times, but tonight it feels different, as if she's seeing it in a new light. To be fair, the Thorn residence has always been imposing, especially at night. Standing tall amidst the misty forest like a veritable apparition, its grand facade etched in silver moonlight hides whispers of forgotten laughter and lingering stares. As she approaches the towering oak doors, the familiar scent of pine and earth now feels like the threshold to a world where she no longer belongs.

The grand ballroom seems full of her pack, at least that's what it feels like when she and Olivia step inside, only to be greeted by more than a hundred pairs of eyes staring them down.

"Stop hunching," Olivia growls under her breath, straightening Sage's shoulders. "Look at your sister's posture over there. Is she hunching?"

"No," Sage holds back a tired sigh. No amount of perfect posturing is going to get her out of this mess, and her stepmother knows it.

"Like it matters," she mutters under her breath.

"What did you just say?"

"I said yes, Mother," Olivia glares, pushing Sage forward. "Whatever you do, don't talk," she reminds her. "Nobody likes an opinionated girl."

Usually, Sage would have fired back with something subtly biting or maybe even funny, but she doesn't have it in her tonight. They're all staring. Her entire pack is staring at her. To say Sage is unused to attention would be an understatement. Their stares feel like a condemnation, like she's just been sentenced to the gallows by a unanimous jury. And her cheeks flush, despite herself.

"Oh God," she groans, feeling her heartbeat pick up. "Oh God, they know."

"They don't know," Olivia rolls her eyes. "The only thing they know is that your mate rejected you. That's all."

Sage scoffs. That's all? The worst thing to ever happen to her? And Olivia reduces it to "that's all." She'd cry if she hadn't lost the ability years ago. But then the attention shifts. When Ben walks in, seeing him there amidst the swirl of music and murmur, she feels a mix of awe and something more tender, an unspoken connection tethered by countless glances and half-shared confidences. Then she sees the girl on his arm, petite and plain, with light blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair.

"He brought his human here," Sage hears someone sneer nearby. She grimaces, feeling sorry for Ben, who's suddenly the object of appalled murmurs and hardened stares. Or at least she does until he spots her in the crowd and starts leading his future mate toward her. Then Sage's heart sinks, and she almost misses Olivia's presence. Almost.

"Hey," Ben greets her with a warm smile. Sage politely inclines her head in response. He might still be Ben, but now, more than anything, he's her Alpha's beta. There are customs to be respected.

"I'd like to introduce you to someone," Ben says, pulling his date forward. "Sage, this is Phoebe."

The blonde gives Sage a tentative smile, but Sage can't find the strength to return it.

"I have a favor to ask," Ben says, pressing a hand to Sage's back. She hates how hyper-aware she is of it, how the heat from his hand seeping into her skin makes her feel torn between sadness and embarrassment. "I need to go find my brother. Would you mind keeping Phoebe company? Introduce her around?"

Sage openly gapes at Ben's request. Show his human around when people are already staring him down for bringing her tonight? What will they say if Sage parades the girl around in his stead?

"Please," he murmurs, "for me."

She nods briefly, and then he's off, leaving her alone with the girl who took everything from her. Not just from her, but from her future child.

"So, can you also transform into a wolf?" Phoebe asks awkwardly. "I mean, sorry, is that a rude thing to ask?"

Sage shrugs. The girl's scent, lighter than a shifter's, evokes awkwardness and stress. It isn't her fault, Sage reminds herself. Phoebe didn't ask for any of this.

"Don't worry about it," she manages. "Yes, I can turn. Most people in this room can, too."

"Wolfess shifters are rare," Phoebe gives her a tight smile.

"Would you like to get something to drink?" Sage asks, leading the girl to the bar. As they make their way towards it, the crowd parts almost mechanically, whispers fluttering like uneasy leaves around them. Sage can feel the weight of each glance, the air charged with a mix of curiosity and caution, a palpable barrier erected not just around her, but around Phoebe as well. Together, they represent something unorthodox, unsettling to the established norms of their tight-knit shifter community.

"Why is everyone staring at us?" Phoebe asks nervously.

"Keep your voice down, they'll hear you," Sage warns. "They're just not used to seeing a human around, that's all." She gestures toward a middle-aged couple across the room. "Those are Ben's parents. Have you met them yet?"

Phoebe shakes her head. "No, he wants me to meet his brother first."

"Is that his sister talking to them?" Phoebe glances toward the couple, spotting a tall, elegant woman clad in a flattering golden dress standing by their side.

"No," Sage says. "That's..." she hesitates, how to explain? "She's a close friend of the Thorn family."

"She's very beautiful," Phoebe observes. And Sage can't blame her. Anyone would be blind not to notice Jess's beauty. But well...

"She sure as hell knows it," she growls, immediately regretting her words when Phoebe's eyes widen in surprise. "She used to date Ben's brother a couple of years back," she adds, to her great horror. Why would she even say that? It's none of Phoebe's concern, or hers, for that matter.

"I thought you guys didn't really date?" Phoebe comments.

"No, we do. It's just a little different for us than for humans," Sage explains. "Well, for the most part."

In the middle of the room, Jess throws her head back and laughs, earning plenty of appraising stares. Shifters didn't typically date, except for Alphas. Alphas could do whatever they wanted, and their conquests only looked more enticing for having held their attention in the first place.

"They're still close," Sage mutters through gritted teeth.

"Who?" Phoebe asks, as if she's lost track of the conversation.

An abrupt stillness sweeps through the room like a cold wave, the atmosphere thickening with palpable anticipation.

"What's going on?" Phoebe murmurs, looking around in confusion.

Sage doesn't reply, feeling the shift in her very bones. A sharp pull that tugs at something deep within. It's a sensation she's come to both dread and crave: the feeling of Noah's silent command filling the room before she even sees him. The whispers around them fade, and then, there he is, striding through the parted crowd, magnetizing every gaze. All sharp jawline and nonchalant grace. Noah is tall, tall and broad-shouldered, his intense eyes shaded by thick brows and full lips that rarely smile, though they always seem on the verge of smirking. He is hard to look away from, Sage manages, though gritting her teeth in annoyance. She knows better, and she's known for a while. She's not in the mood to watch Noah bask in all the usual attention. He knows he's attractive, and worse, he exploits it without a shred of humility, wielding it with an ease that grates on her nerves.

"Who is that?" Phoebe gasps, her eyes wide and odd, which only sours Sage's mood further.

"I'd avoid staring at your boyfriend's brother if I were you," she snaps, crossing her arms.

"That's Noah," Phoebe whispers, curious.

"Don't say his name," Sage warns.

"Oh, sorry," Phoebe flinches. "Ben did mention something about that."

"What do I do then?" she adds, squeezing Sage's arm. "Do I bow?"

"Just lower your head and stop gawking," challenging when he looks like that, Phoebe jokes. What's challenging is resisting the urge to grind her teeth at the idiocy of Noah's fan club, but Sage keeps the thought to herself.

"You're better off with Ben, believe me," she mutters instead.

"Right," Phoebe replies. "But Sage, I'm serious."

Sage insists, resisting the urge to shake some sense into the girl. "He's a player who loves nothing more than to bask in all the unfair privileges his Alpha status gives him."

"Sage, he's looking at you," Phoebe urges, shaking her arm again.

"He most definitely is not. He cannot stand me. Besides, he's always surrounded by a veritable posy of admirers he's too busy gazing at instead." But Sage doesn't add this last part. Even she knows how bitter it would sound.

"I guess," Phoebe squeaks, sounding like a nervous mouse. "He's coming over here."

Sage looks up, just in time to see Noah take one last step before stopping right in front of her, his self-satisfied smirk all the more pronounced on his perfect mouth. It's always unsettling to look at Noah. He looks a lot like Ben, except he doesn't. They share the same thick eyebrows and light brown hair, but Ben's features are boyish, softened by a natural kindness. There's nothing soft about Noah's sharp cheekbones or the harsher clench of his jaw.

"Sage," he says, instead of a greeting. His posture is relaxed, but his eyes are as dark and cold as ever. It's all Sage can do to hold back a gulp, but she won't give him the satisfaction.

"Alpha," she replies, meeting his gaze.

"Good to see you," Noah says, his tone suggesting it's anything but.

"Likewise," Phoebe interrupts, seemingly out of nowhere, for Sage had completely forgotten about her for a moment. Noah turns to her, his posture subtly softening as he greets her.

"You must be Phoebe," he says, not unkindly. "Ben said you'd be coming tonight."

The girl beams at him. "Happy birthday, sir," she says brightly, before catching a few shocked stares and quickly correcting herself. "I mean, Alpha. Sorry. I..."

"It's fine," Noah says, snapping his eyes away. He turns his shoulder and takes a step away before calling over his shoulder, "Sage, come." Without waiting for a reply, because he knows fully well she has no choice but to comply, the weight of his command already gripping her shoulders, he walks off.

Five. Noah's office, once an impenetrable fortress under his father's reign, is meticulously crafted with dark wood panels that tower impossibly high above Sage, gleaming with the polish of decades. The ancient furniture seems intent on warning off anyone who might dare to disrupt its long-standing order.

"So, my brother dumped you for a human he met 10 minutes ago?" Noah pours himself a drink, his back to Sage. He hadn't checked once to see if she was following as he led her away from the ballroom and back to this forbidden space. Memories of peering in the office curiously with Ben, both of them barred from entry while Noah disappeared with his father, wash over her.

"This is the least welcoming room I've ever seen," Sage comments, taking in the imposing desk and overstuffed armchairs. Trust Noah to bring her to a place guaranteed to make her uncomfortable, and he hasn't even invited her to sit.

"You said you and Ben were forever," he says, downing his drink in one long sip. "Remember that when you practically begged me to accept your bond."

"Well, I was wrong, obviously." Sage clenches her hands into fists. "Surely, you must be thrilled about our breakup."

Noah smirks. "Why would I be thrilled?" he quips, the question obviously rhetorical. He'd never approved of Sage, not as a potential mate for his darling baby brother. When she'd been just the best friend, Noah had been indifferent to her presence. But that changed when Sage and Ben started courting. She'd caught Noah openly sneering at them more than once, his scent souring whenever she was around. Worse, he'd become downright judgmental whenever she and Ben touched, even a brief hold of hands earning them a lecture on propriety. The sheer hypocrisy of it all drove Sage insane. Noah had no qualms parading his conquests around.

"Well, I'm certainly not thrilled about being held accountable for your poor relationship choices," Noah says, oddly impassive.

Sage lowers her eyes. Her father must have invoked The Forsaken Claim, otherwise, she doubts Noah would care about her plight. The Forsaken Claim required a shifter's family to take responsibility if one of its members abandoned a potential mate they had been engaged with. If the family couldn't or wouldn't handle it, the Pax Alpha had to settle the matter.

"I hate to say 'I told you so'," Noah begins.

"No, you don't. You're right, I don't. I told you your little fling wouldn't work out, and you both got furious with me." Noah's eyes flash a dangerous gold. Alphas didn't appreciate being contradicted, and in Sage's experience, Noah even less so.

"What do you want me to say? That you were right and I was wrong?" Noah remains quiet for so long that Sage eventually looks up, just to make sure he's still there. He is.

"Did you ask your father to come to me about this?" he asks.

Sage shakes her head hurriedly. "I didn't, I swear."

"I'm sorry he put you in a tough spot." Noah's gaze becomes searching, expectant for some reason. Then he sighs. "I'll compile a list of potential suitors for you," he says, meeting her eyes. "Unless you had someone specific in mind?"

Sage doesn't. She's never thought of anyone but Ben. One of the rare people she tolerates. Ideally, she'd prefer a partner rather than a lover, someone she wouldn't have to seduce or pretend to have feelings for. The idea of faking affection makes her stomach turn. Someone looking for a transactional relationship would be preferable, she tells Noah, who blinks in surprise.

"How romantic," he deadpans.

"Well, I'll never love anybody but Ben. I'd prefer my mate to know that."

Noah's eyes darken slightly. He takes a step in her direction, then another, before Sage can react, he's towering over her. The proximity overwhelming. All she can smell is him. Thankfully, she's mastered the art of breathing through her mouth when Noah is near, because, well, surely it's an Alpha thing, but Noah always smells indecently good. It's no wonder no woman can resist him with how dizzying and intoxicating his scent is. Sage is committed to not letting it affect her until suddenly Noah lowers his head toward her neck.

"I think everyone can tell you love my brother," he snaps, eyes dark with impatience. "You smell like him. You're as good as claimed. It'll be hard getting guys to line up for you."

Sage suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. She wants to retort that she's not such a bad match. Her family is of good standing, and she's a highly ranked member of the pack. But then her eyes meet Noah's, and for some reason, the next words out of her mouth are, "Well, what about you?"

Noah stares at her in disbelief, and to her defense, she's just as shocked. Why did she say that? How does she backpedal from this?

"Me?" Noah asks, affronted.

There comes a time in every person's life when they have to think fast, and in those moments, it often surprises just how much information the brain can process unconsciously.

"You're going to have to take a mate eventually, for the good of the pack. Yet, you obviously don't want one, otherwise, you would have claimed Jess already," Sage hesitates but presses on. "I'm... I'm guessing you're worried your mate wouldn't let you sleep around?"

Noah says nothing, his face a perfect mask of indifference. At least he hasn't berated her yet for suggesting a union between them.

"Well, I don't care about your gallivanting ways."

"My what?" Noah interrupts.

Sage ignores him. "If I were your mate, you could entertain your little herm as much as you'd like, trust me. I wouldn't care. Not at all."

Noah keeps staring at her, and that's when Sage realizes she's only embarrassing herself. This is Noah she's talking to, Ben's older brother, her Alpha, and a man who has refused to settle down for anyone.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "This was a stupid idea."

There's a beat of silence that seems to stretch into eternity, and then, "You're really that desperate?" Noah asks. It feels like a slap to the face. Why couldn't she keep her mouth shut? Out of all the foolish things to blurt out, she had to say that.

"I said I was sorry, Alpha," Sage spins on her heels, desperate to leave. Forget I said anything. Suddenly, nothing matters quite as much to Sage as fleeing this room, this man standing in it, as quickly as she can.

Six. The party is still in full swing when Sage returns to the ballroom, which works in her favor. Hopefully, her parents won't notice her absence among the crowd, or at least not until she's far enough away that they can't make her come back. After the total humiliation of her encounter with Noah, Sage firmly believes her best hope of getting him to help her find a mate is to lay low, and she absolutely does not want to have to explain that to her parents now. How to get away discreetly? A quick glance around the reception reveals her options: either exit through the front, which is impossible because her parents are right there, or escape through the back gardens, accessible from the ballroom.

Sage clenches her jaw as she steps through the crowd. The back gardens stretch before her as she pushes open the double doors, cool night air wrapping around her like a soothing balm. The buzz of the party fades, muffled by the distance. If she could just make it out of here without anyone noticing, maybe she could get her mind to stop replaying her foolish words. "What about you?" she'd asked. Jesus, what an idiot.

Her heels sink slightly into the soft earth as she weaves through clusters of lingering guests. Some are huddled in whispered conversations, others lost in their own worlds, but none seemed to notice her. Almost free, Sage nears the more secluded part of the garden where she knows there's a small hidden path leading to the parking area. But just as she takes a turn behind the property...

"Phoebe?" Sage exclaims, surprised. The human girl is talking animatedly, a distraught expression on her face. Beside her is a tall man Sage doesn't recognize, who quickly walks off upon noticing her presence.

"Did something happen? And where is Ben?" Phoebe's eyes briefly meet Sage's, and bitterness suddenly creeps in. She wouldn't be in this mess if Phoebe hadn't taken Ben from her. Whatever's bothering her isn't Sage's problem, and she should just focus on heading home. But she hesitates. She and Ben had been best friends for years. He was her first love, and most importantly, he's the father of her unborn child. And he asked her to look after Phoebe. Damn it.

Sage exhales sharply and turns around, her feet dragging her back toward Phoebe before she can second-guess herself. "You okay?" she asks.

"Fine," Phoebe sighs, looking away. "Thank you for asking."

Sage nods slowly. Well, she asked. Right now, she can leave. But the image of Ben's disappointed expression flashes in her mind.

"What happened?" Sage insists. "Was that man being rude to you?"

"Shifters aren't very welcoming of humans," Sage doubts anyone acted particularly kindly toward Phoebe in her absence.

"Do you know if Ben was seeing anyone before we met?" Phoebe asks, seemingly out of the blue. "Somebody implied he was as good as married, or mated, as you guys call it."

Sage opens her mouth, but the words refuse to come out. She has no idea what to say, and Phoebe notices.

"So it's true?" Phoebe says, and before Sage can say anything, she adds, "This is insane. This whole thing is insane. Until recently, I didn't even know shifters existed. How do I even know if this is real?"

"It is real," Sage says, placing a hand on Phoebe's shoulder. "Fate has bonded you to Ben. Phoebe, he loves you."

"He doesn't even know me that well. What about free will? Does that not matter?"

Sage doesn't know what to say. No one knows why faded bonds exist or exactly how they work. They just are. They're rare, coveted, and beautiful. When you receive a blessing, why question it? "You're lucky, you know. For us, finding our faded mate is..."

"Sage, there you are!" Olivia's voice booms from behind them, making Sage grimace. Great, there was no more leaving discreetly now, was there? She'd missed her shot.

"Hurry up back inside," Olivia urges, grabbing Sage's arm. "You too, human."

"Her name is Phoebe, Mother," Sage protests, following reluctantly after Olivia. "And I was thinking of going home."

"Going home? Are you insane?" Olivia snaps. "Our Alpha just announced that he would be taking a mate. Can you believe it?"

Sage stops in her tracks. "What?" she hears herself ask, though her voice seems to be coming from miles away. Noah has found a mate? An actual mate?

"It has to be Jess, right?" Olivia says. "I mean, who else would it be?"

Sage is only half-listening to her stepmother's speculation. To think, just minutes earlier, she'd asked Noah to be her mate, just as he was planning to announce his upcoming union. No wonder he had been nearly speechless at Sage's ridiculous proposal. He must have found her beyond presumptuous.

Back inside, the ballroom buzzes with anticipation, the air thick with excitement. Guests lean in close to their neighbors, speaking in hushed tones, while others are more brazen, openly gesturing toward the women they think are most likely to be chosen. For every name spoken aloud, heads turn, and Sage can see people scrutinizing each other, trying to guess which girl will become their Alpha's mate. Right in the middle of the storm is Noah, basking in all the endless admiration. Sage's fists curl at her sides. However perfect his future mate is likely to be, she feels sorry for the girl about to be stuck with some arrogant, self-enamored jerk who will never be faithful. She doesn't envy her one little bit. Or at least, she wouldn't if she weren't in the precarious situation of desperately needing a mate because of her pregnancy. She'd even settle for some playboy Alpha who goes after anything that moves. He'd even made a pass at Sage once, though she doubts he remembers it. Sage shakes her head, pushing the memory down where it belongs. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters except finding a way to stay within the pack for her baby's sake. The rest is just noise.

Noise that abruptly quiets as Noah prepares to speak.

"As, as many of you have pointed out," he begins, "it's high time I take a mate." People begin to cheer, making Sage roll her eyes. Her gaze falls on Ben, who laughs silently upon seeing her unimpressed expression.

"Did you know?" she mouths to him. He shakes his head and shrugs.

Meanwhile, Noah continues his speech. "And you're right, I've been delaying for too long," he says, sounding possibly smug. "Which is why I'd like you all to witness my mating ceremony tonight."

"Tonight?" someone exclaims, sounding stunned.

"Tonight," Noah confirms with a wolfish grin. "Right now, in fact." He turns toward the pack's high priest, beckoning him forward. "Roy, will you do the honors?" he asks.

The priest, Roy, a man in his late 50s, quickly joins Noah in front of the astonished audience, looking quite dumbfounded. "Of course, Alpha," he stammers, glancing at the crowd as if someone might object. No one would, of course. Defying the Alpha would be a death sentence, and no one in this room seems to have a death wish. Meanwhile, Noah stands calmly, grinning at the priest, waiting patiently for the man to proceed with a ceremony he's only just learned about.

Then Roy scratches his throat. "Who's the lucky lady?"

"Oh, right," Noah says, as though he's just remembered that's an important detail. He quickly scans the ballroom and its guests, points toward the back, and Sage's heart plummets down to her stomach. Because it's Sage.

"Noah declares," earning himself a chorus of astonished gasps and exclamations.

Seven. Sage is frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights. This certainly isn't her proudest moment. She's a wolf, after all, a born predator, not prey. Yet, the way her heart lurches in her chest makes her feel exposed and vulnerable. She must have misheard, of course, she misheard. Her mind races, trying to make sense of the situation. Nothing adds up. She forces herself to take a step toward Noah, even though every instinct tells her to run in the opposite direction. He can't seriously be considering going forward with a mating ceremony tonight, and with her, of all people? This must be some sort of joke.

But Noah's expression is far from playful. He looks entirely serious, his finger still beckoning her forward, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Sage, come here," he repeats, this time with a hint of impatience in his voice. She blinks, her mouth dry, and glances toward Ben, who looks as dumbfounded as she feels. He shakes his head again, his eyes wide with disbelief. The room is utterly still now, save for the murmurs rippling through the crowd like the wind through trees. People are craning their necks, whispering in stunned disbelief, some are eyeing her with blatant curiosity, while others look almost disappointed. Sage's skin prickles under the weight of their stares, and a nameless anger rises in her chest. She swallows hard, her legs feeling like lead, but she forces herself to move. One foot in front of the other. She walks toward Noah, each step echoing in the now silent ballroom. As she nears him, she can see the gleam in his eyes, that unmistakable confidence radiating off him. He's enjoying this. Her mind is a blur of confusion and fury. When she finally stands before him, her heart is hammering in her chest, and she struggles to keep her voice steady.

"What are you doing?" she manages, her tone low and sharp.

Noah ignores her, instead waving his brother over. "Ben, come here," he says. "You'll be my witness. Olivia can be Sage's."

"How long have you been courting?" the priest asks politely, as the two witnesses make their way over.

"We haven't," Noah replies, his smile widening. The words hit Sage like a punch to the gut. She wants to scream at Noah, to demand answers, but before she can react, Noah turns to the priest, who's still standing there bewildered.

"Shall we proceed?" Noah prompts, his voice as calm as ever. The crowd murmurs again, and Sage can feel the judgment in every whispered word, every disbelieving stare. It makes her want to flee the room and never look back. But something inside her keeps her rooted in place, her eyes locked on Noah's. A small, stubborn part of her refuses to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. He looks like he's sincerely planning to get away with this. Fine, then. He's got more to lose than she does. After this little performance, backing out would make him look like a fool. And if he's expecting Sage to protest? Well, he's got another thing coming. She needs a mate, after all. Her baby will need protection. She's certainly not going to stand down now that there's a chance she might get just that, no matter how insane her would-be mate is acting.

"Let's get this over with," she mutters, her voice barely audible. But Noah hears her, and for a brief moment, something flickers in his eyes, something unreadable. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced once again by his confident grin.

"As you wish, darling," he says, stepping closer to her as the priest begins the ceremony.

Eight. Sage sits on the edge of her new bed, her fingers gripping the blanket as Olivia fusses with her hair, smoothing it down with the same efficiency she's always used to manage Sage's life. Her new room, one she'd never seen despite how many times she'd been to the Thorn residence, feels stiflingly quiet. Ben, standing by the door with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, has been trying to catch her gaze ever since she stepped out of the changing room. He's also been trying to get a word in, but Olivia won't give him the chance, and Sage doesn't have the strength to interrupt her rambling, nor the courage to acknowledge Ben right now. This should have been him she was waiting for, this night, this moment. It should have been theirs. But instead, she's here for Noah. Olivia is pulling on her hair, Ben looks stupefied, and the priest? Well, at least the priest doesn't seem phased. He's probably witnessed countless unions like this one, his expression one of quiet professionalism as he waits for Noah's inevitable arrival.

Olivia finishes arranging the bedding and then places her hands on Sage's shoulders. "Sweetheart, do try to do something about your scent," she says, her voice soft but firm. "You're never going to prompt our Alpha into giving you your claiming mark if you don't smell like anything."

"Claiming mark?" The words echo in Sage's mind, heavy with the reality of what's about to happen. Any moment now, Noah will walk through that door, and they'll complete the final part of the ceremony. She gulps. It isn't the bite itself that unsettles her, despite the fact that her mother and ex-lover will witness it, as tradition obliges. She isn't worried about getting bitten. It's what comes afterwards that has her stomach fluttering furiously. At least everyone will be gone for that. She's heard enough whispered stories. Everyone knows new mates can't keep their hands off each other once the bond is sealed. The heat of the connection is supposed to be overwhelming, nearly impossible to resist. And now she's going to experience that with Noah. Her pulse quickens at the thought. She's going to be Noah's love. Love? Her? He's going to claim her, and then undress her, and then... Sage closes her eyes and takes a breath. She doesn't have a choice. She needs a mate, and it's not like she can find one and not have to fulfill her marital duty. Her thoughts keep circling back to Noah, how he'd looked when she'd offered to become his mate, his smug expression during their entire mating ceremony. He thought he'd back down. He hadn't. Vows had been exchanged, then blood. Somehow, Noah had produced a ring and slipped it onto Sage's finger, unprepared. She hadn't given him one, and that had been that. But the way he looked the entire time, the mocking glint in his eyes, nothing about his behavior made sense, and it still doesn't now. Sage tries to focus on anything else, but she's about to share a bed with Noah, and well, the realization makes her breath hitch.

The door creaks open, and suddenly he's here. His scent, as overwhelming as ever. Too much for Sage to handle right now.

"Alpha," the priest begins.

"Get out," Noah growls, his eyes sweep over her, and though she doesn't dare meet his gaze, she feels the weight of them nonetheless, making her skin tingle. And then there's his scent, lingering in the air all around her. She tries to breathe evenly through her mouth, but a memory flashes in her mind: the feel of his blood on her tongue, which she tasted after biting his thumb during the ceremony. The sensation of that rich, metallic warmth floods back, sharp and vivid, making her mouth...

Water. Meanwhile, the priest and Olivia are protesting, but Noah isn't having any of it. "Alpha, I must insist we witness the..."

"That won't be happening tonight," Noah interrupts, giving Sage a pointed look. She finally dares to acknowledge his eyes are dark, almost entirely pupil. A small gasp escapes her lips before she can stop herself.

"Noah," Ben protests, his voice a warning.

"Noah's eyes flash toward him. "Furious! I said, get out!" Noah barks, turning back to Sage. She doesn't watch as the three Witnesses leave the room. Their exit feels irrelevant now. Noah's looking at her again. His eyes are dark with something she can't name yet. He said he wouldn't be claiming her tonight. He's still here, though, and his scent—something about it stirs a primal part of her, and he knows it.

"How could you do this to me?" she asks, once the bedroom door shuts behind the priest. Noah's expression barely twitches, though his eyes somehow grow darker.

"Do what?" he asks, his voice low, almost a growl. A challenging glint flashes in his eyes, and just like that, Sage's frail nerves and anxiety disappear, replaced by one clear, all-consuming goal: to preserve the last shreds of her dignity at all costs.

"You know what!" she snaps, jumping to her feet. "Your little ambush earlier this..." She waves her finger between them.

"Ambush?" Noah scoffs. "You're the one who asked me to be your mate, remember?" He takes a step forward, smirking.

"How could I refuse?" he says sarcastically.

"Why didn't you?" Sage demands. She feels exposed, strangely exposed. It's not like she really cares about the answer, anyway. She got what she wanted: a mate.

"You made such a compelling case for it, saying I could what was it? Keep entertaining my little harem?" Noah's lips twitch into a knowing smile. "All the time you spent with my baby brother really taught you how to romance a guy."

Sage sneers. His words making her stomach flip. "Well, if you're so content with our arrangement, why did you send our Witnesses away?" she challenges, stepping forward. It's a mistake. Because standing inches away from Noah, she gets another whiff of his scent, and if she weren't so annoyed with him, her knees would buckle. No wonder no one ever says no to this man. It's insane how good he smells. Totally unfair. She feels dazed by it.

"Why don't you plan on claiming me?" she insists, though the words come out more plaintive than she intended.

"Who says I don't?" Noah steps even closer, and she feels the warmth of his body nearly touching hers. He reaches out, his fingers brushing her neck. Sage shivers at the touch.

"I don't plan on rushing this," he murmurs, his thumb pressing against her collarbone a little more firmly. For a moment, time seems to stand still, and Sage closes her eyes, her senses overwhelmed by his proximity. Then, Noah's lips brush the shell of her ear.

"Beg," he says, making her jump back.

"What?"

"You heard me," he smirks. "I rather enjoyed your little pleading session earlier. Why don't you try it again?" His words feel like a punch to the gut, not only because they're cruel but also because they make Sage question the reality of their bond. Is this union real, or is Noah playing some kind of game?

"Why are you being like this?"

Noah doesn't respond immediately. In fact, he looks briefly surprised, which encourages her to press on. "What's your problem with me? You barely hid your distaste when I was with Ben. What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?"

A short, bitter laugh escapes Noah's lips. "You're joking, right?" he asks, shaking his head in disbelief. He stares her down, his lips curled into a tense smile, and Sage feels like she's missed an entire part of the conversation, like she's supposed to understand something she really doesn't. When she remains silent, Noah's expression slowly morphs into a blank mask. His gaze turns searching until his face, a little pale, he clenches his jaw.

"Well, this was fun," he quips sarcastically. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Sage watches him spin on his heels in silent bewilderment. Only when he's halfway across her room does she think to call after him in a small, uncertain voice.

"You're not staying?"

Noah glances back at her. "Do you want me to?" he asks, making Sage feel oddly exposed. Does she? She's been dreading the bite, or more accurately, the intimacy that would come with it.

"I didn't think so," Noah says, before exiting her bedroom.

9. It takes more than an hour for Sage to realize Noah isn't coming back. She waits for him on her bed, eyes glued to the door for far too long because, well, it's their mating ceremony, isn't it? Even if he doesn't want to claim her, surely he'll at least want to B her, considering the number of women she's seen him around with. He can't be too picky about who he spends the night with. But it doesn't look like Noah's coming back, and after walking around the residence trying to pick up his scent, it seems he's not even around anymore. Did he just leave her on the night of their mating ceremony? She shouldn't care, of course she shouldn't. This morning, she wasn't even sure Noah would acknowledge her at his birthday party, and now it suddenly occurs to Sage that she hadn't even wished Noah a happy birthday. She feels slightly sorry for it, until she remembers he'd essentially cornered her, intimating with him before leaving her like an idiot. It's stupid to feel betrayed, of course it is. She has no right to feel so humiliated and foolish. She told him that if she were his mate, he could do as he pleased, and so he had gone out to do just that. And it's not like Sage even particularly likes him, anyway, she tells herself, finally getting into bed. She just needed a mate, and Noah had been there. That's all. She tosses to the left side of the bed, then to the right. But did he really have to go meet up with one of his many conquests on the night of their mating ceremony?

Sage throws off the covers. Never in all the years they dated had Ben ever made her feel so annoyed. Why did Ben have to go and meet his faded mate now? Sage was stuck in some unfamiliar empty bed while her mate was outd doing whatever, or whoever. The thought has her screaming into her pillow in frustration. But she must fall asleep at some point, because suddenly she opens her eyes to the early morning light filtering through the curtains. Her mood is no better for having slept, so she tosses off the covers and heads downstairs to the kitchen, deciding that maybe making herself some breakfast will take her mind off things. She busies herself at the stove, cracking eggs into a pan and trying not to think about Noah, or where he is, or what he's been doing, or with whom. The sizzling of the eggs and the quiet hum of the house are a welcome distraction, but it doesn't last long.

"Are you trying to cook?" Noah asks, sounding bewildered. He's leaning heavily against the kitchen door, looking unfairly attractive for someone still wearing last night's clothes.

Sage arches an eyebrow at his wrinkled shirt and messy hair. "Did you just come home, like, now?"

"NOA shrugs. "Something like that," he mumbles, stumbling toward the coffee maker. She watches him try and fail to pour himself a cup of coffee, fumbling with the buttons. His ordination tragically off.

"Are you drunk?" she exclaims, more shocked than appalled, though there's a bit of that too. It takes a lot for shifters to get drunk, given their resistance to alcohol. But when Noah lifts his blury eyes to her with a crooked smile, there's little doubt left about his current state.

"Well, I suppose I don't need to ask you what you've been up to," Sage mocks, unable to help herself. "It's pretty obvious." But her mocking smile falls right off her face when, in one fluid motion, he's suddenly crowding her space, his body inches from hers, close enough that she can feel his body heat seeping through.

"What are you doing?" she asks, feeling her heartbeat pick up.

"Would you have preferred if I stayed with you last night?" Noah teases, his voice low and taunting.

There's lipstick on his collar. Sage scowls, pushing at his chest to create some distance. "You smell like a distillery," she snaps, averting her gaze from the offending pink stain. She tries to walk off, but Noah catches her wrist, pulling her back. His eyes darken, as does his expression, and then his nose brushes against her neck, making her shiver as he inhales deeply.

"And you smell like my brother," he growls, his body towering over hers. "But you don't hear me complain, do you?" His grip is still tight around her wrist, keeping her in place. Sage finds that she doesn't entirely mind.

"You're the one who left to meet God knows who," she hears herself complain, feeling oddly detached from how whiny her voice sounds.

"Jealous?" Noah smirks. "Hardly." Why would she be jealous? She isn't, not at all. But Noah's mouth quirks into a knowing smirk, and before Sage can react, his lips crash down on hers. It doesn't feel like a first kiss at all, nor does it feel like any kiss she's ever experienced. It's forceful and demanding, teeth nipping at her lip as if Noah's somehow angry that Sage knows how to kiss at all. But she doesn't mind the bruising intensity, nor does she mind the tip of his tongue coaxing her into throwing her arms around his neck, trying to get closer. As if reading her mind, he immediately grips her thighs to lift her onto the kitchen counter, settling himself between them. His scent deepens from pleasant to intoxicatingly heady, and Sage feels dizzy with want, with the desire for Noah to continue kissing her and never stop, for him to stay right there against her, where she can run her hands along his back and taste lips again and again, not even minding the taste of alcohol on them. She can't remember ever feeling this way, briefly wondering if it could be the pregnancy hormones or something. The thought sends a flash of fear through her at the idea of Noah finding out, being angry, and stepping away. Suddenly, Sage feels downright terrified. She doesn't even react when Noah abruptly pulls away, stumbling back a couple of steps.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have," he says, sounding as drunk as he probably is. Sage watches him exit the kitchen in silence, where she remains for a while, as if leaving would somehow mean something terrible.

10. 2 weeks later. Sage stares down at the velvet-lined tray of engagement rings. The soft glow of the store lights reflecting off the polished stones. They glitter under the glass, each one more beautiful and extravagant than the last. But her mind is too distracted to focus on picking out something that seems trivial amidst all her troubles.

"What about this one?" Olivia points to an intricate solid gold band. "I think it's fitting, don't you? Do you think Noah would like it?"

Sage shrugs. She has no idea what Noah does during the day or where he spends his night, so she certainly can't tell what he likes when it comes to jewelry. Her indecision makes her stepmother roll her eyes. "Well, you'll have to pick something. It was embarrassing enough when you didn't give him a ring during your mating ceremony."

"I told you," Sage protests, her cheeks heating up. "I didn't know there was even going to be a ceremony."

"Which is why you should never have propositioned him out of nowhere," Olivia snaps. "It was improper and could have blown up in your face."

"Well, it hasn't," Sage replies, walking off. "Let Olivia pick the damn ring if it's so important. It certainly isn't to Sage, and she's pretty sure Noah doesn't care either."

"How are things progressing between you two?" Olivia's voice is casual, but Sage knows her stepmother is scrutinizing her, eyes sharp and curious as she pretends to look at the rings. Sage shifts uncomfortably, her fingers absent-mindedly brushing over the edge of the glass case. She doesn't answer right away, her thoughts swirling with memories of the past few days. Days spent living in Noah's house, their house now, though it doesn't feel like it. Despite knowing the place well, it doesn't feel familiar without Ben there. And Noah—well, if he isn't busy with pack duties, he's always surrounded by family members or other wolves, discussing business or attending meetings. The rare times they have a meal together, they're never alone. There's always someone else at the table, a cousin, a pack member, someone needing Noah's attention. And at night—well, he certainly hasn't tried kissing her again, that's for sure.

"Sage, are you listening to me?" Olivia's eyes narrow, and Sage blinks, feeling the weight of her Stepmother's gaze.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Olivia sighs, a touch impatient. "I said, you still don't have a mating bite. What's going on?" Her voice lowers, the concern obvious now. "Are you at least doing the deed?"

The question makes Sage's stomach turn. "That's none of your..."

"Sage," Olivia growls, sensing all she needs from the silence. "You need to make it happen and soon. If you haven't slept with him before you start showing, how do you think he'll react? He hasn't claimed you. Your bond isn't set in stone."

Sage feels a flush of frustration rising, but she bites it back down. "There hasn't been a good time."

"I guess you—you need to make the time, Sage. The Pack Is Watching you both, and if Noah isn't acting like a proper mate..." Olivia trails off, but the implication is clear. Sage holds back a scoff. She doesn't feel like telling Olivia the reason Noah isn't acting like a proper mate is because he agreed to take Sage on the condition that he wouldn't have to act like one. Just a few nights ago, she had woken up feeling inexplicably restless, and before she knew knew what she was doing, she'd found herself walking into Noah's bedroom, empty despite the late hour. She'd felt silly, not even sure why she'd gone there in the first place. It wasn't as if she expected him to be there waiting for her, and yet she'd sat on his untouched bed, feeling lost and a drift, thinking the same thing Olivia was telling her now: her mating bond was precarious at best, and if it didn't work out, she doubted anyone else would ever want to mate with her again. So despite the lack of logic, she decided to wait up. But when Noah came home hours later, he hadn't been alone. Instead of greeting him as she'd half planned, she'd watched him laugh at something Jess had said, his arm looped around her as they stumbled into his bedroom. That explained why he hadn't tried anything more with her. Why would he, when he had Jess and plenty of better options than Sage? Served her right, she proposed. She told him he could do as he pleased. She had gotten into the situation by promising not to impose or ask anything of him. Complaining now would be hypocritical, and more importantly, if she said anything, Noah might no longer see any point in keeping her as his mate. Still, she couldn't shake the sting of standing there, watching him disappear into his room with another woman. Her emotions felt foolish, and they still frustrated her to this day.

"Sage?" Olivia's voice cuts through the memory, dragging her back to the present. "Are you listening to me?"

She nods, though her mind is far from the glittering rings in front of her. "Sure," she tries to walk away, but Olivia grabs her arm.

"The man is known to sleep around," she whispers near Sage's ear. "There's no reason for him not to do it with his own mate. Make it happen, Sage."

Sage chokes on a laugh. "Not one for mincing words, huh?" she jokes, though her throat feels tight.

Olivia sighs. "I'm done tiptoeing around this while you're being purposely obtuse. Your child's safety is at stake. What's the problem? Do you not find Noah attractive?"

Sage nearly chokes on her reply. "Anyone would have to be blind not to find Noah attractive. Actually, even a blind person would probably find him attractive just from the way he smells or talks."

"Or he's fine," she replies, aiming for neutral. Judging by Olivia's expression, she fails miserably. After a moment's hesitation, Sage continues under her Stepmother's insistent glare. "I just don't think Noah's interested."

"He pushed you away?" Olivia interrupts, looking stunned. "What did you do? How did you approach him?" She looks about ready to give Sage lessons on enticing a man, and it's extremely awkward to say the least.

"I—well, I didn't exactly..."

Olivia closes her eyes and sighs. "Sage, did you even try to let him know you were interested?"

"Well, not in so many words," Sage argues, hoping for the ground to swallow her whole, which unfortunately, it doesn't.

"But shouldn't he be the one?"

"Did it occur to you that perhaps he's trying to be respectful?"

Sage snorts. She's pretty sure he wasn't being respectful when he came home with Jess. She purses her lips. She's being hypocritical again, isn't she? She agreed to the arrangement. It had nothing to do with her. Olivia is Right. Perhaps Noah would be open to being with her if showed any inclination. On the night of their mating ceremony, Noah had asked if she actually wanted him to stay, and he had left when Sage said nothing. But perhaps if she had...

Meanwhile, Olivia waves a ring in front of Sage's face. "You'll give him this one tonight to express your commitment and go from there," she decides, and Sage is half-resolved to agree. "That one? It's so or Nate he'll hate it." She waves absently at a simple white gold band that's much better suited.

"This one, please," she tells the salesman, before taking a resolved breath. Olivia has a point. Things aren't going to move forward on their own, and Sage is the one in a hurry. She can't wait for Noah to come to her. She'll have to actively pursue him instead. If only the prospect didn't make her feel so nervous.

11. It's all well and good for Olivia to insist that Sage seduced Noah, but there isn't much one can do when the man is literally never around. It's 9:00 p.m., and Sage is waiting for him to have dinner, but the more time passes, the more likely it seems that her mate won't be making an appearance anytime soon. Sage sighs, looking down at the dish of mac and cheese. Good thing she hadn't attempted to prepare this herself; it would have put her in an even worse mood than the one she's in now. She gives in and takes a bite, then another, chewing bitterly, and before she knows it, she's eaten half of a dish meant for six. "Pretty sure this isn't what eating for two means," she mutters, tossing the towel aside. Fine. If Noah doesn't want to come home, then she'll go to him, she decides, grabbing a coat and heading out. She's already been driving for 5 minutes when she remembers she has has no idea where Noah is. It's not like he keeps her updated on his comings and goings, but a strange feeling tells her she's heading in the right direction, and with nothing better to do, Sage follows it. They're somewhat mated now, and apparently, mates have the ability to sense each other's presence. She and Noah haven't exchanged mating marks, but maybe the ceremony and blood exchange were enough to create some kind of bond. It seems that way when, nearing a bar she vaguely remembers visiting once with Ben, Sage spots Noah's car parked nearby. She wouldn't miss it; it's a bright, flashy sports car that screams "I live for attention." Very Noah. Sage parks her own vehicle where she can and makes her way toward the bar, feeling a little less confident now that she's about to enter. The bar is cozy, with low lighting casting a warm amber glow over the wooden floor and walls. It's the kind of place Ben always liked: unassuming, laidback, where people came to unwind rather than show off, and the familiarity briefly settles over her, loosening the tension in her chest. That's when she spots Ben. He's bent over one of the pool tables, lining up a shot while Phoebe watches with a mix of polite interest and confusion. She nods along as Ben explains something, but her eyes are fixed on the table, clearly trying to make sense of the game. Sage can't help but smile a little at the sight. She and Ben used to play pool all the time; Sage was quite good at it, in fact. She is about to approach them to say hello and maybe ask if they've seen Noah around when an uneasy feeling creeps up her spine, one she can't quite place. Her gaze shifts almost involuntarily toward the bar, where a man sits, leaning sideways with one elbow on the counter. There's nothing outwardly threatening about him, just another figure in the dimly lit room, but something about his posture, the way his shoulders are hunched and his head is tilted—Sage's instincts flare, a subtle alarm sounding in her mind. As she edges closer, she can't explain why, but the man's presence feels wrong, out of place. Her eyes narrow, and she takes a step toward the bar, her original plan to greet Ben and Phoebe momentarily forgotten. She settles beside the man at the bar, ordering herself a drink while subtly taking in his features. They're sharp, almost gaunt, giving him a sickly air that does nothing to dampen his allure. It's his eyes, dark and unreadable, that seem seem both sinister and enticing. The man doesn't seem to register her presence; in fact, his attention is solely focused on the pool table. Sage's stomach twists with anxiety.

"Sorry, are you a friend of Phoebe's?" Sage asks, confused. She's seen this man before, she thinks, but where? With Phoebe? She can't remember.

"Green eyes," the man says calmly, without thinking. Sage spins on her heels, confusion washing over her. Why had she even approached him? She doesn't even remember why she's here in this place. Her heart is racing, and she feels disturbed in a way she can't explain, as if she's witnessed something terrible, except she can't recall what.

Two warm hands grip her shoulders, twisting her around, and Sage finds herself staring at Noah, his face a mix of aggravation and concern. "What happened?" he asks, his tone calm despite the tension in his shoulders. "Are you okay?"

Sage blinks at him, still confused. It doesn't help that having not expected him to show up out of nowhere, she's forgotten to breathe through her nose and is now assaulted by his unfairly captivating scent. Her stunned silence makes him frown.

"Sage," he presses gently, cupping her face. "Talk to me. What's going on?" It's so inconsiderate of him to expect a coherent answer when he's touching her like this, smelling the way he does. Sage bravely glances toward the bar, where she feels the root of her previous distress should be, but when she sees nothing out of the ordinary, only bottles and a board-looking bartender, she turns back to Noah and shrugs.

"Nothing," she says, taking a step back. "What are you doing here?"

Noah's concerned expression quickly shifts to incredulity. "What am I doing here? What are *you* doing here?"

"Looking for you," Sage replies truthfully, still trying to regain her bearings. She finally does when she notices Noah's bewildered look.

"You? What? Why?" he sounds confused, and his gaze drifts toward the pool table where Ben and Phoebe are still playing. "Were you hoping to make Ben jealous or something?" Noah jokes.

Sage rolls her eyes, ready to respond with sarcasm, but something holds her back. "I made dinner," she says instead, lowering her eyes.

"But you weren't there. So, did you burn down my kitchen?"

"I did not!" Sage lightly hits his shoulder. "I ordered in. I'm not an idiot."

Noah laughs, and it does something strange to Sage's heart, like a stab that feels oddly pleasant. "Are you saying you wanted us to have dinner together?" Noah asks wearily, though not mockingly.

Sage feels embarrassed, nness exposed. "No," she protests immediately, before remembering she's supposed to be seducing him. "Well, maybe."

Noah blinks. He probably thinks she's breaking their deal, asking him to hang out. Sage is about to assure him she doesn't want to disrupt his night prowling, somewhat bitterly, when a tall blonde suddenly appears beside Noah, smiling too widely.

"Sage! What a surprise!" Jess exclaims, her grin nearly blinding. "Noah didn't tell us you were coming."

Sage frowns, feeling like she's overstayed her welcome for some reason. Just as she's about to come up with an excuse, Noah wraps an arm around her shoulders. "We were just leaving," he says cheerfully.

"Sage wants to have dinner?" Jess's expression falters briefly before she quickly recovers, schooling her her features back into a smile. "Good," she comments, though there's a nervous edge to her voice. "Great." Her eyes flickered at the pool table. "How are things with you and Ben, Sage?" she asks warmly, though Sage tenses. "It mustn't be easy having to step away because he's found his faded."

"Why would you even ask her that?" Noah interrupts, pulling Sage closer, his scent sour briefly before he reins it in.

Jess grimaces, noticing the shift. "I'm just saying, letun go, Sage," Noah snaps, maneuvering her away, his arms still draped around her shoulders as they leave. Sage doesn't dare say anything, sensing that it would only aggravate Noah further. She does, however, glance back at Jess, who watches them walk away with a concerned expression.

12. Noah laughs when he sees how much mac and cheese is left on the dinner table, though he does hand over some ice cream to Sage after noticing her displeased pout. "That's my favorite," she comments happily, digging her spoon in beside Noah, who's reheating his meal in the microwave.

"I know," he replies. "Ben always insisted we keep some at our place for you."

Sage freezes upon hearing Ben's name, not so much because it still stings to hear about their past, though it does a little, but more so because despite Noah's neutral tone, she feels there's a question laced within his words, and she has no idea how to answer it.

"How are you holding up?" Noah asks more directly this time, his tone isn't unkind.

"Sage sighs. "It's just strange, I guess," she replies honestly. "We were together for so long, even before we were together, you know?"

Noah nods, grabbing a spoon for himself. "You were always tight at the hip," he comments, digging into her ice cream.

"Hey!" she protests, making him laugh. "Not one to share, huh?"

"Not when I really love something, right?" Noah's smile tighten slightly. "I guess the mac and cheese must be crap then."

"Kind of." They settle in one of the smaller living rooms, conveniently close to the kitchen. Noah sits beside Sage on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him as he leans back casually. The usual tension that clings to him is surprisingly absent. They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the faint hum of the microwave in the background. Sage glances at him, watching as as he digs into the ice cream again without hesitation. The gesture reminds her of his earlier words, how he said she and Ben were always attached at the hip.

"I guess you must have hated it," Sage says, half joking, though she genuinely wants to know. "Seeing us together all the time, I mean, me and Ben."

Noah pauses, his spoon halfway to his mouth, then lowers it, his expression unreadable for a moment. "I didn't hate it," he says quietly after a beat. "I just..."

Sage furrows her brow.

"Didn't approve." Noah's eyes flicker toward hers. "I've never disapproved of you," he says, and somehow Sage knows he's being sincere. There's a weight to his words, something unspoken lingering beneath the surface. Sage opens her mouth to respond, but hesitates. She's not sure what to say, or if she even wants to unpack what Noah means. There's a rawness to it all: Ben leaving her, Phoebe entering the picture, and now this strange, unsteady bond with Noah. Noah who smells divine and kissed her like...

"I thought you hated me," she blurts out, desperate to derail her own train of thought.

Noah whines, looking contrite. "I'm sorry. I'm just—just territorial, I guess."

"Oh." Sage blanks. She'd never seen it that way, but suddenly it makes sense. Her little sister is too young to be courting yet, but just the idea of it happening soon makes Sage frown in displeasure. "I understand," she says with a small smile. "You were just looking out for your brother."

Their eyes meat. Noah's gaze particularly dark. He looked looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he abruptly Rises to his feet. "I think my food's ready," he says, heading back to the microwave. Sage exhales softly. Another silence follows, but this time it's heavier, laden with unspoken words. Sage Scoops another spoonful of ice cream, though the sweetness does little to distract from the knot of emotions inside her.

"You've been avoiding me," she says finally, her tone sharper than she intends, though there's no accusation behind it, just curiosity. "Ever since the ceremony."

Noah doesn't flinch. Instead, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, tapping his spoon lightly against his fingers. "I wasn't avoiding you. I was giving you space."

"Space?" Sage raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, you just had your whole life flipped upside down. I figured you could use some time to process." He glances at her, his eyes serious. "But I didn't go far."

"You mean you weren't just out partying with random girls?"

Noah smirks, though there's a hint of something deeper in his expression. "Of course not. They were never random. I pick them very carefully." Sage rolls her eyes, amused but not entirely reassured. But she can't exactly demand reassurance, can she? What would she even say? "Noah, you remember how you only made it with me because I promis to turn a blind eye to your infidelity? Yeah, could we just forget about that part and maybe make out or something?" Sage groans internally. The tension in the air isn't uncomfortable; it's an awareness. She feels it in the way Noah's eyes Linger on her, the way his presence feels both familiar and unsettling all at once. Feeling too exposed, she clears her throat.

"I got you something," she says, digging into her pocket.

"You did?" Noah teases, though his expression softens as she hands him the small jewelry box. He remains silent as he opens it, taking in the wedding band inside. The silence drags on for far too long, and Sage's heart sinks.

"You hate it," she says, her throat tightening.

Noah's gaze snaps up to hers, but she continues, embarrassed. "I just thought since you gave me one, I should." She shakes her head. "It was stupid."

"I—" Noah cuts her off by placing his palm over her mouth. "I love it," he says, smiling truly. His eyes suddenly seem as bright as his smile, and it makes Sage wish she could give him a new ring every day. But then she closes her eyes, a familiar sensation washing over her, like she's being rocked by an invisible boat, one she never truly Left Behind. "Don't be afraid," her mother had said. She'd said that, and then she drowned.

13. All in all, Sage thinks she and Noah are making good progress. Over the past two weeks, they've spent nearly every evening together, just the two of them. Noah has started letting her in on his Alpha responsibilities, often asking for her opinion on things, as if it truly matter. She can't say she doesn't like it. It makes her feel important, having this powerful man whom everyone in the pack respects ask her how to handle matters. It's like around him, she's no longer some burden to be married off or Ben's closed-off, traumatized ex-girlfriend. Suddenly, she's a capable woman whose actions and opinions have an impact, and she likes this version of herself. She's not just discovering things about herself, though; she's learning about Noah too. He can be Brash at times, yes, but what she once interpreted as immaturity or arrogance, she now realizes is more a passionate temperament. Noah feels strongly about most things, and he's not afraid to express it. It's a sharp contrast to Ben's even-tempered nature, and it catches her off guard at times, but Sage finds she likes it. Noah's intensity, his directness. Yet, despite their growing connection, the kiss they shared a month ago remains their only physical moment. They haven't even held hands since then, and while Noah seems content to take things slow, Sage feels the weight of time pressing in on her. She's nearly 2 months pregnant now, and though no one has noticed the change in her scent yet, it's only a matter of time before someone does. No matter what Sage tries—lightly touching Noah's arm, letting her thigh linger against his when they sit together, or even walking around the house in increasingly revealing clothes—it's as if Noah is completely impervious to her efforts. Maybe he already has too many women on the side to even consider Sage like that, or maybe she still smells like Ben. Noah had mentioned it before. It's possible his wolf doesn't see her as a potential mate because of it, but the way he kissed her that day, he certainly hadn't acted like he wasn't into it. Then again, he had been drinking.

She sighs, picking out a new dress from her bedroom closet. Tonight is Ben's engagement party, an event Sage has been dreading because most of the pack will be there, and she's sure someone will notice the change in her scent. If Noah hasn't noticed yet, it's probably because they're always together, and he's gradually grown used to it, but someone who hasn't seen her in a while will definitely pick up on the difference. Olivia thinks so too and has been begging Sage to stay home. It would definitely be safer, but if she doesn't go, that means Noah will be alone at the party, surrounded by potential conquests. The idea doesn't sit well with her. He hasn't gone out since she'd found him at the bar that day, but Sage knows it's bound to happen again at some point. She just doesn't want tonight to be that point.

"You seem tense," Noah comments when Sage joins him downstairs.

"Why, thanks, babe. You look great too," she grunts, annoyed that he hasn't commented on the dress she picked out to impress him. She thought he might like it, but there goes another failed attempt.

"Did you just call me babe?" Noah asks, sounding amused.

"You never call me babe!"

"Shut up," Sage snaps, walking past him. She's aiming for the kitchen, but Noah catches her wrist before she can step inside, pulling her back toward him.

"I do think you look good in the dress," he says with a small smirk. "But then again, you look good in anything."

Sage's breath betrays her, catching in her throat. "You know," Noah pulls her in, their body's nearly touching now, "I noticed you always seem to breathe through your mouth when I'm around. Care to explain?"

Sage is half tempted to kick him. "You're impossibly smug, you know that," she replies.

His smile softens into something quietly pleased, devoid of Pride, and holding only affection. "You mean to say you like my scent?" he teases.

"What kind of question is that? Surely no one knows how perfect his scent is." He's probably been told countless times. Suddenly, the idea of anyone else standing this close to him, basking in his presence when it should be Sage, is unbearable. She raises her wrist to his neck, intending to rub her skin against his before she can think twice about the implications.

"Everyone likes your scent, Noah," she comments, focused on ensuring her scent mingles with his enough to be unmistakable. Probably too much, in fact. When he doesn't respond immediately, it occurs to her that she's scent marking him, a territorial and intimate gesture common between mates, but not between them. And Noah is letting her. She meets his gaze, expecting some discomfort or annoyance, but if Noah's eyes are dark, it's certainly not with anger.

Their mouths crashed together in perfect Unison, tearing a small wine from Sage's throat. She melts into the kiss, her hand sliding up 's chest to grip the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. Finally, finally, his arms circle around her waist, pulling her close enough that she can feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. Finally, Noah's lips are moving against hers, hungrily, unrestrained, as if he's wanted this as much as she has, as if he's been holding back. Finally, there's the firm press of his body against hers, the undeniable confirmation that he wants this. Her. Her heart swells. She loves the Press of his hands on her hips, the hurried way he pushes her toward the couch, or maybe she's the one pulling. Either way, their lips never part. His body hovers over hers, his lips still claiming hers as if he's afraid to let go. It feels so good, so right, the warmth of him, the weight of him. It's everything she didn't know she needed until now. It doesn't feel like enough, and suddenly the thought is overwhelming, like she's standing on the edge of a bottomless cliff.

"What even is this?" she thinks, half crazed, as Noah's lips descend on her neck. She pulls at his hair, making him groan, and immediately wants to hear that sound again. Would he be more vocal with someone else? With Jess? She never felt like this with Ben, not even during their first kiss or their first time together. Those moments were full of affection and love, but never such hunger and Desperation. Being with with Noah is Delirious and disorienting. His touch demanding and claiming in ways Ben never was, and yet the more he gives, the more she craves. More of his fingers digging into her thighs, more of his lips slowly abusing her neck. Her mind spins into chaos, one she can't make sense of, not now. It's like riding a tidal wave, being drowned in a space entire IR L unknown feelings pour into her: possessiveness, despair, a desire so sharp it steals her breath.

"You're mine," she thinks, her body flush against Noah. "Mine alone." Except these thoughts and feelings feel foreign, like an intrusion, external. A part of sage wonders, comprehends that something, something strange is happening, something big. She's never felt like this before, not even with the man she loved for years, the man she thought she still loved, the man she did love, and perhaps still does, yet never with the feeling that she'd die if he left her. With Noah, she knows she'll never recover if he does. She pulls him closer, sucking a bruise onto his neck, and turn. Her breath hitches at the realization, Terror swirling through her, and suddenly Noah pulls back, his forehead resting against hers, their panting breaths mingling.

"This feels nothing like Ben," Sage thinks again, and Noah's eyes flicker open, dark and full of hurt. A hurt so sharp that Sage nearly recoils, stunned.

"No one H," she breathes, reaching for him, but he shakes his head, standing up. He pulls away, lifting himself off her, his movements careful and reluctant, as if forcing himself to stop.

"I can't," he mutters, his voice horar raw. The weight of his rejection is almost too much for sage to bear. Her mind feels like it's splitting in two, and suddenly she can't get enough air.

"Why not?" she manages, trying to meet his eyes. Pride be damned.

Noah purposely avoids looking at her, his shoulders sagging, and his face pale. "We should get ready," he murmurs, sounding as lost as she feels.

"The party? Ben's party?" he glares at her as he says his brother's name, something accusatory and betrayed in his eyes. It Le leaves Sage utterly confused, as if she's done something wrong, but has no idea what.

"I don't want to go," she protests, her voice shaky, tears threatening.

"How could you even think I—"

"Fine," Noah Cuts in with a brief nod. "Then don't. I understand."

"Ben will understand." And with that, he grabs a nearby jacket and hurries out the door, almost fleeing, leaving Sage there.

14. The living room, engulfed in darkness, is still and silent, a stark contrast to the chaos inside Sage's mind. It keeps replaying the way Noah retreated, leaving her behind, the incomprehensibility of it all rendering her paralyzed. How could he just leave? It feels so wrong. It's physically painful, the thought of him at that party, the thought of him being away. It's more than just a thought; it's a physical sensation, one of dread and pain. He shouldn't have gone. He should be here with her, touching her still. Her chest feels tight, a pressure that starts small but steadily builds, pushing against her ribs. It's as if something is squeezing her, making it hard to breathe. The clock strikes 12, but the hours stretch endlessly, the ticking growing louder in the silence, each second drags on, pulling her down like a weight. Sage shifts in her seat, trying to take a deep breath, but it feels shallow, as though the air won't reach her lungs. She can't shake the growing unease, a sense of dread creeping up her spine, gnawing at her mind. The thought of Noah being gone, his absence—it makes her heart race, pounding harder and faster with each passing minute. He should be here. This isn't right. How long has it been? It feels like days. Her fingers twitch as she tries to calm herself, but the wrongness only intensifies. Her breath comes in short bursts now, and she presses a hand to her chest, as though that could somehow ease the pressure. A dizzying rush of panic sweeps over her, making her hands tremble. Why does it feel like this? Everything hurts, down to the tips of her fingers. Sage's Vision blurs, and she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to push away the overwhelming sensation. It's too much. Her head feels light, her breaths too quick and shallow, and her heart is hammering so loudly she can barely think. Suddenly, the sound of a car pulling up outside makes her head snap up. She jumps to her feet, the sharpness of her movement cutting through the fog in her mind. Noah. He's back. He's here. Relief floods her, unlocking something in her chest. She already feels better, just knowing he's near, almost like her body can sense his presence. She stumbles, her legs wobbly beneath her, pulse still racing, but then she stops dead in her tracks, hearing a very feminine voice from outside. Jess. Sage realizes, eyes widening in horror. She barely has time to hide behind a door in a room adjacent to the entrance hall when the key turns in the lock.

"I can't believe you," Jess grumbles as they walk in. Noah Chuckles, his reply too low for sage to hear, especially over the pounding in her ears. She listens to them climb the stairs, her heart lodged in her throat. Despite the horror of watching Noah bring another woman home, despite the urge to scream and protest, relief still floods her mind, easing her breathing as she senses his nearness. It's confusing. She's angry and hurt, and yet he's back within reach once more, and it's like she can breathe again. This makes no sense, and Sage is completely out of her depth. She should take time to process, because deep down, she knows something major is going on here, but all she can focus on is Noah going upstairs with Jess, and before she knows it, Sage is following after them. She has no idea what she's doing. All she knows is that her mate is behind that door with Jess, her mate whose door she's now shutting behind her, as if she has any right to be there. This isn't how it's supposed to be. Yes, she had told Noah he could do this, but enough. She's had enough. She's been going insane ever since he left, and they need to talk. Determined, she rushes to his bedroom door, ready to knock, when it suddenly opens, revealing Jess's stupified expression as she freezes in the hallway.

"Sage?" Jess exclaims, her eyes widening in Surprise. She backs up, almost blocking Sage's path, which only makes Sage see red.

"I want to talk to Noah," she says, her voice a clear threat.

"He'll see you tomorrow," Jess grimaces, clearly uncomfortable. It makes Sage want to throttle her. Who does Jess think she is, telling her when Sage can talk to her mate?

"Step aside," Sage ordered ERS this time, deliberately threatening. Jess's scent turns nervous, bitter, but she stands her ground, still trying to shield Noah's door.

Sage sighs. "Fine." She pushes her way in, driven by Noah's scent, undeniably close.

"Sage!" Jess protests, but she ignores her. Her maid is sprawled across his bed, fully dressed, head falling to the side, eyes barely open. Noah. Worry tighten Sage's gut as she rushes to him, taking in his flushed face and messy hair.

"Noah?" she tries again, shaking his shoulder. He groans in protest, mumbling something incoherent that has him smiling dazedly. The bitter smell of alcohol on his breath unmistakable.

"He's drunk!" Sage exclaims, turning to Jess.

"You don't say," Jess dead pans. Sage looks back at Noah, whose features relax as he succumbs to his drunken stuper, lips slightly parted. This is the second time she's seen him drunk in a matter of weeks. Before this, she could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen a shifter drunk, so what does it mean? The knot of jealousy in Sage's chest loosens, replaced by unease as her gaze shifts between Jess and Noah.

"What are you doing here, Sage?" Jess asks, her tone more frustrated than hostile, like she doesn't have the energy for a confrontation.

Sage swallows hard, her pulse racing as she glances at Noah's disheveled figure. "I—I thought," she trails off, embarrassment creeping in. Jess hadn't come home with Noah to hook up at all; she was just trying to help, like she had the last time Sage caught her here. Sage had been too focused on Jess, but in retrospect, Noah had been walking unsteadily, slurring his words, tripping.

"Does this happen often?" Sage asks, her voice softening as her anger begins to deflate.

Jess shrugs uncomfortably. "He seemed to be doing better recently," she sighs, sounding Fed Up. Her voice softens, the Edge shifting to concern. "I thought he was past this."

"But why?" Sage's gaze roams over Noah's disheveled figure.

Peaceful features. Why would he look? Jess interrupts. It's not my place to say. Just talk to him, okay? But has this been going on long? Don't you think, Sage? Please. Jess sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Just talk to Noah tomorrow. Don't worry too much. He just needs to sleep it off. Jess tries to joke, but there's real concern in her voice as she leaves the room.

Once alone, Sage arranges Noah into a more comfortable position, then proceeds to remove his tie and shoes. He barely stirs, mumbling a little here and there, but nothing more. His shirt is damp and stained with what smells like alcohol. It can't be comfortable, so she begins unbuttoning it, blushing as she works her way down. As her fingers near his waistline, Noah's hand clasps around hers. He's watching her through blurry eyes, his gaze heavy and lidded. "Sorry," she whispers, breathless. "It was stained, so I thought..."

"You can undress me all you want," Noah slurs, a slow smile spreading across his lips. With a quiet hum, he guides her hand to the button of his pants, shifting his hips in silent invitation. "Right. I can help you out of those too." Sage grimaces, both embarrassed and frustrated with her mate's obvious drunkenness. "We could have done this sober," she thinks, trying not to look too closely as she helps him out of his jeans. But no, he had to go and get trashed. Her thoughts scatter as she takes in Noah's nearly naked form, firm muscles and taut skin laid out before her. "Well," she stammers nervously, "good night then." She retreats, but Noah reaches out, his hand brushing her arm. "Don't go," he mutters, the softness in his voice making her heart skip a beat. "You're the one who left," she hears herself say, betraying her hurt.

Noah frowns at her hand as if he's unsure where it came from, but pleased nonetheless. "Never," he says, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. There's a sincerity in his voice that tugs at something deep inside her, and despite her better judgment, Sage finds herself climbing into bed with him, pulling the covers over them both, still holding on to his hand. It remains firmly clasped in hers, even as his eyelids droop. "Is this real?" he murmurs, half asleep. "Are you mine?" Sage stays quiet as his breathing evens out, deep and peaceful, and then softly, "Yes," she whispers into the darkness, feeling his fingers grow lax.

15

Sage opens her eyes to the blinding morning light. Late morning, if the intensity is any indication. She'd forgotten to close the blinds. She feels sluggish and disoriented, notably because of how well rested she feels, something she hasn't experienced in years. It's like she'd forgotten what sleep was supposed to feel like until now, and she would have basked in the pleasantness of it all if not for the fact that she is obviously not in her room. She gasps, her eyes falling on Noah's sleeping form. His chest rises and falls steadily, the soft morning light casting a warm glow over his features. He looks serene in a way that makes Sage want to run her fingers through the locks of hair falling messily onto his forehead. That is until his eyes blink open suddenly.

"Sage!" he exclaims, startled. "What? What are you?" His words trail off, confusion written all over his features. "Hi," she replies, feeling slightly embarrassed and frustrated at her own embarrassment. If anyone should feel embarrassed, she's pretty sure it shouldn't be her. She watches Noah glance around the room, at the bed, and at his own state of undress. "Why are you here?" he asks, meeting her eyes, clearly puzzled. His confusion only furthers Sage's irritation. "You mean you don't remember?" she asks, her tone sharp. His gaping expression is all the answer she needs. "Did... did something happen?" he stammers, looking more lost than she's ever seen him.

She sighs dramatically, suddenly excited at the prospect of making him sweat. It would serve him right for running off only to come back blackout drunk. Her excitement is short-lived, though, as she remembers he had walked out on her. They could have woken up together under different circumstances, ones they both remembered and enjoyed, but instead, Noah had chosen to leave, even after she made it clear she was more than interested. "Sage?" Noah asks, his voice filled with concern. This might be the only time she ever wakes up next to him. It could be the last, because soon he'll know about her pregnancy, and if he isn't interested now, he definitely won't be then. And what will happen to her and the baby when Noah inevitably casts them out?

"Sage, say something," he insists, the most nervous she's ever heard him. She doesn't want him to cast her out. She wants to go to bed with him every evening and wake up beside him every morning. Morning. And she's scared, defensive because of it. And so, "I can't believe you!" she exclaims, jumping to her feet. "You said you weren't that drunk!" Noah's eyes widen. It might have been comical if not for Sage's terrible decision-making. "I'm sorry. I..." "Sorry for what?" Sage interrupts, her voice cutting. "For spending a completely forgettable night with me?" She rushes past the bed toward the door. "No, wait!" Noah protests, sitting up. "Sage, I don't—" "Forget it," she snaps, sending him a furious glare. "Oh, wait, you already have." And then she slams the door behind her, practically fleeing to her own bedroom. Her thoughts a mix of triumph and despair. Triumph because Noah looked like he felt almost as bad as he made her feel, and despair because she was now in her own room and not still in his with him. At least she'd be safe now. She could justify her pregnancy to Noah and everyone else. She'd just have to make sure she saw the midwife alone and asked her to lie about the due date. Oh God, that just sounds awful, doesn't it? She sinks to her knees, covering her face with her hands as if to hide from the shame. Lying to everyone about the pregnancy, lying to Noah, lying to Ben, who's the actual father, and Noah, who deserves better than that. If she'd been drunk enough to forget the night, she wouldn't be comfortable with it either. Sleeping with someone for the first time, not remembering it, then being blamed for it. That's awful. Suddenly, she wants nothing more than to explain to Noah that she'd never take advantage of him like that, but it's too late, because she totally had. She'd lied to him. In fact, she's been lying to him ever since they made it. She should have told him about the pregnancy and asked for his help and protection for the baby, rather than asking him to be her mate. Noah is a good Alpha. She's always known that, but she'd been so, so afraid of getting Ben into trouble, afraid of Noah's judgment. Sage sighs, rushing into the shower, hoping to take her mind off things. It doesn't work. She feels guilty, terrible, and lonely, and she deserves it, but her baby doesn't. Her baby deserves a good mother, someone who knows what she's doing and treats people right. Oh God, she thinks, horrified. I'm going to be a terrible mother. The realization hits her like a slap, and she bursts into tears, the sound drowned out by the shower's steady stream of water. She remains there until the water runs cold, and even longer.

16

It becomes apparent that Noah isn't there when Sage finally comes downstairs, and suddenly being in the house alone feels too stifling to handle. Sage grabs a coat and heads out with no particular destination in mind. She considers shifting to take her mind off things but decides against it when she realizes she's not entirely sure it's safe for the baby, opting instead to walk aimlessly, wandering through the forest surrounding the house. The familiar scent of pine and earth grounds her, though it does little to ease the knot of anxiety that settles deep in her stomach. The sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and while the warmth on her skin offers momentary relief, the restlessness inside her remains. Each step feels both aimless and necessary, as if she's trying to outrun her thoughts but knows she can't escape them.

After a couple of hours, she finds herself in town. The bustle of life, a sharp contrast to the quiet of the woods. She drifts along the streets, unsure of what she's looking for, until something, or rather someone, catches her eye. Phoebe. She's standing on a street corner, talking animatedly, waving her hands around. This catches Sage's attention because Phoebe is usually calm and subdued, the type who doesn't like to attract attention, but she doesn't seem to care about that now. Her movements are agitated, as if she's trying to make a point, and the look on her face—she seems upset. Not scared, exactly, but rather hurt. Sage squints, walking closer. The person Phoebe is with is tall and lean, a man with messy hair whose back is turned to Sage. Unlike Phoebe, he seemed relatively calm. That is, until Phoebe looks like she's about to spin on her heels, then he lunges, reaching to grab her arm.

"Is everything okay?" she asks, inserting herself between them.

"Sage? Phoebe?" startles. "What are you doing here?"

Sage doesn't reply, her gaze locking with the man's. His dark green, cat-like eyes hold something sinister, and staring directly into them has Sage freezing in place. "Have we met before?" she asks the man, her mind struggling to place him. She thinks they have, but where? He seems familiar, though the memory slips just out of reach.

"I don't think so," the man replies, his tone calm and composed. He gives Phoebe a curt nod. "Thank you for the directions," he said, before hurrying away. Sage watches him go, the uneasy feeling twisting her stomach tighter.

"Who is that guy?" she asks Phoebe, still watching the tall figure disappear around a corner.

Phoebe is watching him too, her lips pressed into a tight line. "No idea. He was lost, I think," she says with a shrug, before turning to Sage. "Coffee?" she smiles brightly, but somehow the feeling that something is wrong doesn't fully go away.

17

Sage does end up grabbing coffee with Phoebe. She feels too lost and rattled to make up an excuse, and once they're seated in the coffee shop, a hot beverage in hand, Sage slowly unburdens her troubles onto Phoebe's listening ear.

"Why don't you just try to, I don't know, tell Noah you like him?" Phoebe asks over her second cappuccino.

Meanwhile, Sage chokes on her decaf. "I don't like him," she replies lamely.

Phoebe shrugs. "Sounds like you do. You're troubled when he goes out, you don't like seeing him with other girls, you're concerned about his drinking problem."

"I don't know if he has a drinking problem," Sage feels the need to defend.

"Well, from what I've seen, he certainly uses it as a coping mechanism," Phoebe says. "Trust me, I know the signs."

Sage sighs. Jess had said she should speak with Noah too, but what was she supposed to say? "And how's it going with Ben?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Fine, I guess. We're having dinner with his parents later." Phoebe doesn't look particularly enthusiastic, which makes something inside Sage twitch uncomfortably. "I'm sure Ben is really looking forward to it," she tries gauging Phoebe's reaction, but there's no particular reaction. Phoebe seems indifferent to the fact.

"You find me cold?" Phoebe says, noticing Sage's expression. "But it's different for me. I'm human. I don't feel the faded bond like you guys do."

"I get that," Sage says, and she does. Because though that doesn't mean she doesn't feel sorry for Ben, Phoebe is his faded mate, and being near her is probably all he can think about. But unfortunately, her being human means the experience isn't the same for her. She probably doesn't feel the same undeniable pull toward Ben that he feels toward her, and while uncomfortable for Phoebe, it's also probably devastating for Ben.

"What about your parents?" Sage asks next. "I think Ben would love to meet them."

"My mom left when I was a baby," Phoebe interrupts, "and my dad passed away not too long ago." This stuns Sage into silence for a moment, the confession hitting too close to home, touching on a wound that still feels too raw to poke.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. What she wants to say is that she understands. She understands Phoebe's detached expression when in reality she probably feels anything but. She understands what it's like to be neglected by a parent. Unlike Phoebe's mom, her remaining parent is still around, but he may as well not be for how little Sage's father spends time with her. Ever since her mother passed, it's like a part of him died with her, like he gave all his love to the deceased and had nothing left for Sage. And regarding her mother's death, "My mom died too," Sage confesses quietly. "A sailing accident. There was a a storm." Did Sage look like Phoebe when she thought of her mother? Did her eyes grow dull like this too? Did she look as alone as Phoebe does? As alone as Sage feels? She opens her mouth, wanting to say that someday she feels like something in her is broken, like a part of her went with her mother and will never be found again. Her father has grown cold and distant, but so has Sage. She wants to say these things, but it's easier to swallow them down, to ignore the dangerous feelings that want to resurface and let them pass. She doesn't want to feel them. Sometimes, she doesn't want to feel anything at all.

18

It's rather dark out when Phoebe drops Sage off, and the glow of the streetlights reflects off the windows of the pack house. Sage feels a little better after their unplanned coffee date, but as she steps inside, the familiar dread settles in her chest at the thought of returning to an empty home. Her footsteps echo softly as she moves through the quiet rooms, all as still and untouched as the last. Her heart sinks further until, stepping into the dining room, she finds Noah sitting at the dining table, set with dishes of food and lit by the soft glow of candlelight. The scene is unexpectedly romantic, and for a moment, Sage can only stare, stunned.

"I thought we could have dinner," Noah says quietly. He's lounging in a chair at the far end of the table, looking rested and composed, all traces of his past excesses erased, save maybe for the slight hesitation in his gaze. It doesn't dampen how handsome he looks, though. Sage swallows. She knows they should talk, that there's so much between them left unsaid, but she's frozen, overwhelmed. The question slips out before she can stop it. "Did you cook all this?"

"Yeah," a faint smile tugs at Noah's lips. "I'm rather good at it, actually. Unlike somebody else I know." She wants to laugh until her gaze catches on the bottle of wine sitting near him. It's unopened and unlikely to affect Noah in any way, even if he were to drink the entire thing by himself. But without a word, Noah grabs the wine and gets up to move it to the kitchen, making Sage smile shakily. He's is trying. He's really trying. And here she is, holding on to a secret that could shatter the fragile piece between them. She knows she should be the one apologizing, confessing to what she's done, but fear holds her back. What if he resents her for it? What if it ruins everything?

Noah turns on his heel and strides back towards her, his expression raw and urgent. "I'm sorry," he says, his hands reaching for her, gently cupping her face. "For last night. It won't happen again. I swear. I don't usually—"

Sage's lips meet his, the tension between them melting immediately at the contact. She knows they should talk, knows there is a lot to be said, and she plans to, but his fingers are running through her hair, his touch warm and grounding. "You know," Noah murmurs between kisses, "I'm very, very sober this time. I'll definitely remember anything that should happen."

Sage lets out a breathless laugh, though her heart still aches with everything unsaid. "I mostly remember you leaving," she teases, her voice light but with an undercurrent of emotion.

Noah's eyes darken with playful determination as he lifts her into his arms. "Then I haven't been doing my job right," he concludes, carrying her upstairs.

19

Every touch of Noah's fingers on Sage's skin sends little shivers down her spine, the pleasant kind, hinting at something good, something she'll love. She can feel his breath against her hair, his lips brushing her temple as he presses a soft kiss there. She had been falling half asleep, but the press of his mouth had her body humming with awareness, every inch of her attuned to him. Things have been good between them these past two weeks, more than good, in fact, wonderful. Noah hasn't been running off or drinking, and she hasn't had to hide anything from him. But, but every time she thinks about having a heart-to-heart, about discussing what's going on between them, the moment slips away, replaced by the fire that flares between them whenever they're close. It's almost overwhelming how natural it feels to be with him, how right. Whenever they're together, it's like a spark ignites between them, one they're powerless against, always drawing them inexplicably closer. Is that what it feels like to be mated? They haven't exchanged claiming marks yet, currently no bond should be in place.

Sage shifts slightly, her fingers grazing the bare skin of Noah's chest, and his breath hitches, his hand tightening on her waist. The more Sage lowers her own, the lightest of touches sets off sparks between them, and before she can fully process it, their lips meet again, and all her thoughts scatter. The kiss is slow and soft at first, Sage sighs against it, her fingers sliding into Noah's hair, and soon they're lost in each other again, the outside world forgotten. His lips moved down to her neck, and she tilts her head back, her own heartbeat quickening at the sensation of his teeth nibbling her skin. He hasn't claimed her yet, but he could, and yet he doesn't, and that particular topic piles up with all the other ones they've yet to discuss. It's not like they don't talk at all. They joke and tease and flirt. They review the inevitable amount of work Noah does for the pack together, but whenever they're near, the need to touch, to kiss, to hold one another becomes impossible to resist. Sage loves the way Noah looks at her, the way his fingers linger on her skin as if he can't get enough. She also loves what he does with those fingers, his mouth, and everything else. It's like he instinctively knows what she likes and needs, how to touch her, and where to bring her the most pleasure. It would make her feel inadequate how good he is at reading and pleasing her if he didn't seem to be enjoying her ministrations just as intensely. Sage lets out a soft sigh as Noah's lips brush her collarbone. She knows they should talk, should figure out what all of this means, what the future holds for them, but whenever they're this close, it's like nothing else matters. Probably because nothing does, she thinks, straddling his waist.

20

In retrospect, Sage probably should have known that if she didn't tell Noah about her pregnancy, the truth would eventually come out in the worst way possible. But in her defense, she hadn't expected the worst way possible would mean that he'd hear about it at the same time as Ben, Phoebe, his parents, and half their pack during a dinner party. The evening is in full swing. The large table stretching across Noah and Sage's grand dining room, laden with a feast fit for a celebration. Laughter and conversation fill the air, the sounds of clinking cutlery and glasses creating an almost festive atmosphere. The room is bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, casting a golden hue over the lavish spread of food: roast meats, fresh vegetables, and decadent desserts arranged beautifully, each dish more extravagant than the last. Around the table sit the most influential members of their pack, notably Noah and Sage's parents, Ben and Phoebe, Jess and Roy, the priest who mated Sage and Noah and will soon perform the same ceremony for Ben and Phoebe. It's meant to be a joyous occasion, the official celebration of Ben and Phoebe's engagement, but for Sage, there's a tension simmering beneath the surface. She watches the others interact, forcing a smile here and there, her stomach twisting with unease. Ben and Phoebe sit close, Ben's hand resting protectively on hers. His parents beside them, trying to hide the obvious discomfort they feel having their son engaged to a human girl. Jess, as usual, is watching everything closely, her sharp eyes flicking between Noah and Sage with a kind of quiet scrutiny that's getting harder and harder to ignore. And Noah, he sits at the head of the table, exuding his usual calm authority, though Sage can see a faint tightness in his posture. The more her eyes flicker back to him, the conversation is lively, filled with stories and laughter, yet Sage's focus keeps drifting to the endless wine glasses being passed around. Noah, to his credit, politely refuses each one, but Sage still feels her heart clench each time someone offers him a drink, her weariness growing with every refusal. She's watching too closely, and she knows it. Knows that Noah can feel her hover. At one point, their eyes meet across the table, and she sees it: the flicker of hurt in his expression, the subtle stiffening in his shoulders. He knows she's checking up on him, that she doesn't fully trust him to say no. Sage feels a pang of guilt but can't stop the weariness gnawing at her. The memory of Ben's last engagement party lingering in her mind, tainting the moment with anxiety. Jess catches her eye, raising an eyebrow slightly, as if she can sense the tension building. It only makes Sage more self-conscious and more aware of the fragile balance in the room.

Then Noah clears his throat, cutting through the hum of conversation. "We have a special tradition to uphold tonight," he announces, his voice calm but carrying a weight of authority that makes the room immediately quiet. All eyes turn to him. He gestures toward Ben, who sits up a little straighter. "As part of our engagement customs, Ben has hunted a deer for Phoebe, which they'll be sharing tonight, symbolizing their devotion." Ben rises to his feet, his gaze sweeping the room, a small smile tugging at his lips as he adds, "I thought it would be fitting for Sage and Noah to join us, since they've never had a proper courting or engagement period themselves." The room buzzes with excitement, the pack murmuring their approval. Noah grins, clearly pleased with his brother's idea, while Phoebe looks a little less so, her smile tight as she glances nervously at the plate of raw venison being served. Sage, however, feels her stomach drop. Eating raw deer while pregnant? She knew she should have spoken with the Pack's Midwife already. She has no idea if it's safe for her to eat this, but she guesses probably not, and in doubt, she simply can't do it. She glances at the dish as it's placed before her, a knot of dread tightening in her chest. Ben leans forward, his smile broad and encouraging. "Sage, I swear I picked a good one. Don't look at my offering like that." Olivia, seated beside her, nods with a knowing smile. "This was a wonderful idea, Benjamin, to have Sage and Noah partake in the exchange. Very considerate of you." Sage swallows, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing in on her from all sides. Her eyes flick to Noah, who watches her silently, his expression unreadable. He's probably wondering why she is hesitating like this, perhaps assuming the worst, but what is she supposed to say? The tension coils tighter in her chest as she stares at the plate, her pulse pounding in her ears. "I... I'd rather not," she stammers, her voice barely audible over the growing silence. "Oh, come on," Ben urges, his tone light but insistent. "It's just one bite." Noah's gaze lingers on her, a flicker of something she can't quite place crossing his features. The silence around the table becomes thick, and Sage feels like she's suffocating under the pressure, trapped between the truth she's too afraid to tell and the growing tension in the room. Olivia gives her a pointed look. "Sage, don't be difficult." Sage's hands tremble under the table, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as the weight of their expectations bears down on her. She feels cornered, trapped in a moment where there's no escape. The tension is building inside her, threatening to break. "I can't," she says, meeting Noah's eyes. "Why not?" he asks cautiously. "Because I'm pregnant." It takes a second, only a second, but her eyes meet Ben's, and then the entire room erupts into joyful exclamations. Sage is being lifted in Noah's arms, immediately forgetting about everything else. "Is this true?" Noah asks, cupping her face. "We're going to be parents?" His smile takes Sage's breath away. He looks so, so happy. She doesn't think she's ever seen him look this happy. "Yes," she replies, placing a hand over his and squeezing his fingers. His smile is infectious. She's smiling too, losing herself in his gaze. Nothing matters but this, them. Noah will be a wonderful father to their baby, and Sage knows it. Congratulations are being passed around, hugs too. Sage doesn't know why it's taken her so long to announce this pregnancy, why she'd been so worried. It doesn't matter who the father is. What matters is that she and Noah are together now, about to become a family. At least, it's what she believes until, once everyone is seated back down, her eyes meet Ben's once more, and the way he looks at her, the way he stares—he knows her too well. Is the thing he knows, Sage realizes, when the guests move from the dinner table to a living space for tea and coffee, the small note he slips into her hands confirms it: "Meet me at our spot late at midnight. We need to talk."

21

Sage sits cross-legged in the old treehouse, her fingers absent-mindedly tracing the grooves of the weathered wood. It's quiet here, the kind of quiet that used to comfort her, but now it only amplifies the nervous energy swirling in her chest. The treehouse, hidden among the thick trees on the edge of the mansion's grounds, had been her and Ben's escape when they were kids, an oasis they'd built together before Noah had stepped in to fix their shoddy construction. Back then, it had felt like a world of their own. Now, it feels like a cage. The wind rustles the leaves outside, and Sage pulls her coat tighter around herself, trying to steady her breathing. It's past midnight, and Ben still isn't here. Here, she keeps glancing at the worn planks beneath her, her thoughts spinning as the minutes drag on. What is he going to say? Ben's the father, there's no denying that, but selfishly, Sage doesn't want him to tell Noah. Noah feels like the father. He's the one she's building a life with, the one she imagines raising this child with. But Ben... Ben won't be able to have children with Phoebe, and that complicates everything. He'll want to be involved. This baby is his only chance at having a lineage. Sage chews on her lip, her anxiety mounting. She told Noah she was going to bed, that she was tired, and though he'd accepted it, he'll be wrapping things up with their guests soon. If she's not back by the time he gets to their room, he'll have questions. Questions she's not ready to answer. The cold bites at her fingers, and she flexes them, glancing at her phone. It's 20 minutes past midnight. She'll give Ben 10 more minutes. If he doesn't show, she's going back to the house. She can't afford to wait any longer, not like this. Her thoughts keep looping back to the same place: what will Ben want? Will he fight for the baby? Will he tell Phoebe? Will he tell Noah? A light breeze moves through the trees, and Sage shivers, the old wood creaking beneath her as she stands up. It's been 30 minutes. She takes one last look around the darkened treehouse before climbing down the ladder. Relief mixes with lingering tension as she decides it's time to head back. The walk back to the mansion feels longer than usual, her footsteps crunching on the gravel path. The night air is crisp, and the faint sound of the wind rustling the leaves follows her all the way back. She moves quickly, slipping through the side entrance of the house. The grand foyer is dimly lit, the house quiet now that most of the guests have left. Sage breathes a sigh of relief. She still got time to make it back to their room before Noah notices her absence, but as she moves toward the stairs, her eyes catch the faint glow of light coming from under a door just down the hall. Ben's room. Her heart skips a beat, and she hesitates, her hand resting on the banister. Phoebe might be in there, she thinks, but if Ben's awake, they need to talk. They can't keep avoiding this. Sage steps toward the door, her pulse quickening. She knocks once, softly. No answer. She knocks again, louder this time, hearing faint murmuring from inside. Ben's voice, but still no response. "Ben?" she calls out quietly, her brow furrowing as she presses her ear to the door. His voice drifts through the wood, too muffled to make out. Something in her gut tightens, a sense of unease creeping in. She knocks again, harder this time. When there's still no answer, Sage's frustration mounts. She turns the handle and pushes the door open slowly, stepping into the room. The light from the bedside lamp casts a soft glow across the room, and her eyes immediately land on Ben, sitting at the edge of the bed, his back turned to her. "Ben?" He's muttering something under his breath, but there's no one here with him. He doesn't even turn around to acknowledge Sage's presence. Knowing in her gut something's wrong, she hurries to his side, kneeling beside him, and gasps. Ben's eyes are open, but they seem glazed, like he's staring into space and can't even see her. He's mumbling words, but they don't make a whole lot of sense, and when Sage grasps his hand, he doesn't react. "Ben?" she insists, shaking him slightly, lightly. "What's wrong? What's happening?" No reaction. Unease turns into fear, and Sage opens her mouth, ready to call Noah over, when suddenly a hand clasps over her mouth, and a voice whispers in her ear, "He's fine, I swear. Please don't say anything. Please." Sage easily shakes Phoebe off her. She hadn't heard her arrive, too wrapped up in Ben's worrying state. The girl must have been in the en-suite bathroom when she arrived. "Phoebe, what's going on?" Phoebe raises her hand in appeasement, her eyes widening in obvious fear. "Sage, I beg you, keep quiet." Her words slowly register, and that's when it occurs to Sage that Phoebe, Ben's mate, doesn't seem remotely worried about him, almost like whatever's happening to him doesn't come off as a surprise. "Did you do this?" she gasps, angling her body between Ben and this girl she's suddenly pretty certain is not who she thought she was. Phoebe shakes her head hurriedly. "I didn't." "But you know what's happening," Sage insists. "You know what's wrong." Phoebe shuts her eyes, anxiety marking her features. "Nothing's wrong, I promise you, Sage." "Oh my God!" Sage jumps to her feet. "I'm getting a doctor." Phoebe steps in the way, blocking her path. "He doesn't need one. He'll be fine." "Get out of my way!" Sage threatens. "Please, just listen to me!" Phoebe. Did something to Ben, and now she's trying to stop Sage from warning others and getting help. It just won't do. Sage lunges at the girl, focused on getting her out of the way by force if necessary. Phoebe takes a step back, raising her hands. "Don't!" Sage screams, reaching out for Phoebe's throat. Her hand never makes contact. Instead, her body suddenly hits some kind of impenetrable wall, and Sage is violently thrown back against the wall, her head hitting the surface with a loud crack. Sage is screaming, and Ben is still muttering incoherently, and Sage collapses on the floor, mind swirling as black spots color her vision. Sage... Phoebe's kneeling beside her, and Sage wants to move, but the spots are turning into stars, and her head hurts. Then everything goes black.

22

Sage's eyes flutter open. The air around her smells stale, thick with the scent of dust and old paper. She has no idea where she is. She blinks rapidly, her head throbbing as her gaze sweeps across the dimly lit room. It looks like a bookstore. Shelves are lined with ancient-looking books, their spines cracked and faded, and the wooden floor beneath her creaks faintly as she shifts, but there's something off, something that makes her skin prickle with unease. She pushes herself up from the worn, creaky couch she's lying on, feeling disoriented. How much time has passed? Is it still night? The weak light filtering through the narrow windows suggests it is, but she can't be sure. Her mind races, trying to piece together the fragments of memory: she'd found Ben in that strange, trans-like state, and then Phoebe. Phoebe had done this to Ben, and she'd attacked Sage. Panic flares in her chest as she remembers being thrown against the wall, the sensation of her head cracking against the hard surface. Her heart pounds in her ears as the realization settles in: she's been moved while unconscious. Her eyes dart around the room, and the unsettling atmosphere presses down on her. There's something wrong here. The books, the walls, and even the dim light feel oppressive, like a heavy weight is hanging just out of sight. She feels a chill run down her spine before she can fully gather her thoughts. Footsteps sound from behind one of the bookshelves. Sage tenses, her body reacting on instinct, and she jumps to her feet just as Phoebe steps into view, holding a steaming mug of tea.

"Sage, wait," Phoebe says softly, her expression filled with worry. But Sage is already backing away, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Stay away from me!" Sage snaps, her voice tight with fear. She glances around the room, searching for an exit, her mind spinning with the need to escape. "What did you do? Where am I?"

Phoebe takes a cautious step forward, holding up the mug as if to show she's harmless. "Please, I swear I didn't hurt you. I just brought you somewhere safe."

"Safe?" Sage's voice rises, incredulous. "You threw me into a wall!"

"I didn't mean to," Phoebe says, her voice trembling with sincerity. "There's a protective spell in there," she explains, pointing towards her locket. "It reacted when you tried to grab me."

"A spell?" Sage exclaims, mind swirling with disbelief. "Are you a witch?" Phoebe has powers, she's used them on Ben, but why?

"I'm not a witch," Phoebe says, settling the mug onto a small coffee table. "And I would never intentionally hurt you or Ben. Sage, you know that."

"Does she?" Sage shakes her head. "Right now, the only thing I know is that your name's Phoebe," she comments dryly.

Phoebe's expression drops, along with Sage's stomach. "Oh my God. Your name's not even Phoebe, is it?"

"No," Phoebe replies, looking contrite. "It's Iris."

Sage shakes her head in disbelief. None of this makes sense. She has so many questions, and she doesn't even know where to begin amidst all of this confusion. "Well, why didn't you just say so?" she asks, before remembering this isn't the most pressing matter at hand. "And where's Ben? Is he okay?"

"Fee," or well, Iris nods emphatically. "Yes, he's fine. He's upstairs. We brought you both here so you wouldn't alert anybody."

"We?" Sage feels dizzy again. "Me and my boss?" Iris's expression becomes displeased. "Who should be around here somewhere." This makes Sage tense. "Are you planning on holding us here for ransom? Is that what this is about?"

"What?" Iris's eyes widen. "No, Sage, this isn't like that at all."

"Fine," Sage jumps to her feet, ignoring the dizziness. "Then I'll just grab Ben and we'll go." Just as she'd suspected, Iris immediately takes a step forward, looking panicked. "No, wait! You can't leave yet. We need to—"

"So you are holding us here against our will?" Sage accuses, glancing around nervously. She needs to plan an exit strategy. The front door of the store is behind her; she's pretty sure she can reach it without Iris being able to stop her, but Ben is still in here somewhere. She can't just leave him there. She needs to buy some time. "I can't believe you do this to him," she accuses, pointing towards Iris. "He loves you. He's your faded mate."

Iris's gaze lowers, her finger clenching uncomfortably. "He's not," she says. "We're not mates at all." Sage's jaw drops. For a second, "What? Of course you are! He felt it! He—" But Iris shakes her head. "He's been enchanted to believe it, only temporarily," she quickly adds, nodding to Sage's horrified expression. "The spell will end soon, and he'll realize the truth." Ben had been enchanted to believe Phoebe was his mate, but how? How is that even possible? And for what purpose? It sounds unbearably cruel to do this to someone. Faded bonds are sacred and precious to Sage and her people. The very idea that one could be tricked into finding their mates, only to discover it's all a lie. She shivers in horror, pain gripping her heart. "Why would you do this to him?" Sage whispers, heart beating wildly. "Make him think you're his mate? Do you realize what you've done to him? To us?"

Iris opens her mouth to protest, but Sage's anger feels like a tidal wave, an unstable force that needs to lash out. "What do you think will happen when he realizes the truth?" she yells, stepping towards Iris with no clear intent in mind but the one to express all her hurt. "He'll be devastated! And for what?" The realization that her intended mate, the man she'd been with for years, had purposely been tricked into leaving Sage—Sage, who was pregnant with their child—is making her see red, and from where she's standing, it's all Iris's fault.

"Please, calm down," Iris says. "Your eyes are glowing."

"You ruined our lives! And for what?"

"I told you!" Iris protests, her expression growing angry as well. "I didn't do this! How do you think I felt having to pretend to be some random shifter's mate? This hasn't exactly been a pleasure for me either!" Sage screams, throwing herself towards Iris again, despite her better judgment. She doesn't get very far. Her body stills, freezing in place in midair, like held by some invisible force. It feels cold, cold and dark. She gasps, struggling against whatever's holding her back, feeling her muscles twitch and strain uselessly. Phoebe staring, and Sage needs to move, but she can't.

"Settle down, will you?" a male voice says, coming from behind her. Sage feels herself being pushed back, her knees hitting against a chair, and suddenly she's seated down, facing a tall, towering figure, a man with dark green eyes and messy copper hair.

"Have we met before?" Sage asks, feeling confused.

"Plenty of times," the man replies, waving his fingers. The cold, heavy sensation that had been holding Sage in place vanishes.

"This is my boss," Iris says to Sage, though her eyes are fixed on the man, clear anger behind them.

Sage doesn't really care about Iris's feelings, though. "So you did know him?" she exclaims, vaguely remembering seeing Phoebe Iris with this person on numerous occasions, feeling betrayed all over again. Sage clenches her fists and jumps to her feet, but Iris's boss interrupts before she can even attempt to speak.

"Try lashing out at her again, see what happens," he says, sagging into a nearby chair, his tone calm and detached, as is his expression, but Sage recognizes danger when she sees it, and this man is undeniably a threat. His presence puts her wolf on edge, more than any looming threat ever has.

"You're the one with magic," she deduces. Iris is undeniably human, which is how she'd blended in amongst them with no one ever suspecting she could pose some sort of threat to Ben or anyone else. This Adrien, on the other hand, is a different kettle of tea. No shifter alive wouldn't feel wary in his presence.

"Adrien is a magician, and he grants wishes," Iris attempts to explain, she sends the latter a nervous glance before pursuing. "If someone comes to him with a wish, he can't refuse them."

"Iris," Adrien interrupts, a slight warning edge to his tone. "Sage is upset. I'm just making sure she has all the facts."

"Just leave us," he replies, waving Iris away dismissively. The lass looks properly affronted. "After everything I've done for you, you're just—"

"I said, leave!" Adrien barks in a tone that has Sage jumping in the back of her chair in shock. It's like the room suddenly drops a couple of degrees, and it feels darker somehow, the shadows against the wall spreading like distorted roots. Sage is properly terrified. Iris, however, merely blinks at the scene. "Jesus, you're dramatic," she grunts, exiting the room with a roll of the eye.

A heavy silence settles upon the room after she goes. Sage, not daring to break it, let alone move. Luckily, she doesn't have to. "I'm the one who enchanted your boyfriend into thinking Iris was his mate," he explains neutrally, sipping on a glass of whiskey that appeared out of thin air. He doesn't look like he feels particularly regretful, or he wouldn't if not for the very long gulp he takes off his drink. It reminds Sage of something Iris had said to her about Noah's drinking, how she thought he was using it as a coping mechanism. "Trust me," she'd said, "I know the signs."

Sage frowns. "You enchanted Ben, but you didn't have a choice," she resumes, bouncing back on what Iris had explained. "When someone makes a wish, he has to grant it."

"I still did it, though," Adrien says, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "But upon somebody else's request?" Sage asks.

"Yes," Sage frowns. "All right, so someone, for some reason, has asked this guy to put a spell on Ben, but why?" she asks with a frown. "And who?"

Adrien crosses his long legs, looking uncomfortable in his too-small chair. "I can't tell you that. I'm sorry," he says, not looking particularly sorry, just very tired. "What I can tell you, though, is that there is a time limit on this wish," Adrien explains. "Ben is only supposed to consider Iris as his mate for 3 months, and they're almost up."

Sage shakes her head. "That's not good enough. Ben can't spend another second thinking Phoebe—I mean, Iris—is his mate when she isn't. You have to end your spell."

"I can't do that. Once a wish is granted, it cannot be undone unless I die," Adrien takes another long gulp of his drink, which seems to be continuously full. "Despite it, though, like I said, this particular wish has a time limit. Ben will soon be set free."

"Have Iris tell him the truth, then," Sage says, rising to her feet. She owes him an explanation. She owes him nothing.

Adrien's face darkens, as does the room once more. Shadows bloom, coming at them from every corner, and Sage swears she can hear strange whispers echoing faintly across the space. "She's done enough as it is, and you'll leave her alone," Adrien warns, a dangerous edge to his words. Sage feels tears prickling her eyes. Whatever Iris and her boss had done hadn't been for personal reasons, but she cannot leave without Ben, without knowing who'd tried to do him harm, for who knew if they wouldn't try it again? "Just tell me who did this to Ben," Sage asks, forcing her voice not to quiver, even if the spell does break soon. "Someone still tried to harm him. They need to be held accountable."

Adrien snorts, like the very statement is ludicrous, making Sage clench her fists. "My Alpha will want to know who's done this to his brother."

"Your Alpha already knows," Adrien says with a roll of the eyes. "That this was never about his brother."

Sage freezes, mind going blank. "What?" she whispers. She feels her body sagging down into her chair again. If not for it, she would have sunk to the ground. "What do you mean, he knows?"

"Of course he doesn't," Adrien asks, giving her a small, mocking smile. "And tell him we'll keep his brother here for the next 3 days. The spell will break after that, and he'll be free to return home."

Sage feels tears running down her cheeks. "I'm not leaving Ben here with you," she says defiantly. "And if I can't give Noah a name regarding who's really behind this, she clenches her fists. "Iris will be held accountable."

"Enough," Adrien rises from his chair, approaching her slowly, like one would approach prey. Shadows seem to loom in from behind him, making Sage want to retreat and hide. "I've played my part, and so did she. Threaten my assistant again, and there will be consequences. Am I clear?" He waved waves his hand across the air, and Sage feels her body rising from the chair, pushed towards the door of the shop against its will. "Be sure to tell your Alpha what I said," the magician sneers from behind her, and then Sage is thrown outside, his door slamming in her face.

23

If one were to ask Sage how she'd managed to get home, she wouldn't be able to say. She stumbles through the quiet streets as if they're part of some dream she can't wake up from. The world around her a blur of cold shadows and faint dawn light. Her mind is a whirlwind of questions without answers, each one more confusing than the last. Is Ben even okay? Back at that shop, was Adrien lying? If he wasn't lying, then who had made that wish? He'd implied it hadn't been about Ben, but then did that mean it had been about her? The sun is slowly rising, white and cold over the dark purple clouds of the horizon, offering no comfort, just the cold, harsh reality of a

A new day that feels like the end of everything she knew. Nothing makes sense. Who would do that? Who would make such a wish? And why? And how could Noah have possibly known and not said a thing? The question tightens like a noose around her chest, making making it hard to breathe.

The icy wind whips around her, and suddenly the barren streets morph into something else, replaced by the heavy, suffocating silence of a rainy cemetery. The funeral had been held on a similar day, cold, overcast, the sky heavy and unyielding. The wind had been just as sharp, biting through her thin black coat as she stood at the edge of the grave, staring down at the coffin that held her world.

Sage's knees buckle as the memory floods her. The chill in the air, the numbness seeping into her bones, feels exactly like that day. She remembers standing beside her father, her small hand gripping his as tightly as she could, though it had felt like he was a million miles away. Sage shakes her head. She doesn't want to be there. She doesn't want to feel this way. She doesn't want to feel anything. She urges the flood of emotions back down, the memories and the pain away. But the sense of loss, of abandonment, it's all the same. The grief she thought she had buried is clawing its way to the surface, pulling her back to that moment.

"Don't be afraid," her mother had said, her arms tied around Sage. And then she drowned. She feels like a child again, standing on the edge of something too vast and too painful to understand. She's afraid all the time, is the thing. She's just gotten better at hiding it, even from herself, especially from herself.

Sage's steps falter. It's because of that wish, she thinks. She'd been fine with Ben, happy even, for years. She'd been happy and unafraid. They'd been good together. And then someone had intervened and gone to that magician, somehow.

Sage gets home somehow, amidst the chaos of her mind. She's no further than past the gates of the property when Noah comes running toward her, relief flooding his features. "Where were you? What happened?" he asks, trying to reach for her. But Sage steps away. She can't bear to look at him, let alone be touched by him.

"Is it true?" she asks, her voice dull and lifeless. "Did you know Phoebe wasn't Ben's mate?" A deafening silence answers her. All the insight she needs.

"How could you?" Sage whispers, feeling faint. The wind howls around her, the cold seeping deeper into her bones. And for a moment, she's back there, on the boat, terrified.

"I'm sorry," Noah's eyes are closed, utter devastation marking his features. "I should have told you."

"Sage, listen..." But Sage can't listen. She remembers standing there, small and alone, how tightly she had held her father's hand, though it hadn't stopped her world from shattering. Her mother was gone, and the same pain surged through her now, the same desperate, hollow ache that nothing can fill. How could Noah have known and not said anything? The thought burns through her, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She's losing him too, isn't she? She's losing everything again.

"The baby is his," Sage says, because he doesn't understand, can't even begin to understand how wrong everything is. "Except I know."

Shock snaps her eyes up to meet Noah's. "You knew?" she whispers, her heart still inside her chest.

"Sage..." Noah whispers, shame dragging his shoulders down. He lowers his gaze, as if he's the one who can't look at her now.

"Since when?" she asks. "Tell me."

Noah clenches his jaw. It ignites a burning anger within her. "How long, Noah? Since you first came to me on my birthday? I could tell right away."

Sage's world spins, her breath catching as Noah's confession sinks in. He knew. Knew. He's always known. The thought screams in her mind, louder than the howling wind around them.

"How?" she finally whispers, her voice raw and broken. "How could you possibly?"

Noah steps in to cup her face, something soft and fragile in his eyes. "Come on, Sage," he whispers. "You know how."

She shakes her head. She doesn't. She doesn't know anything. She steps back, as if putting distance between them will make the truth disappear.

"Sage, I can feel when you're upset. I can read your thoughts at times. I know how you feel about me. I know..." The words hit her like a physical blow. She stares at him, wide-eyed, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.

"You're mine, and I'm yours," Noah says, his tone more imploring now. "You're my mate, Sage. My faded mate."

The words echo through her mind, ringing with a terrible finality. It can't be true. It can't be. Faded mates recognize each other instantly, or at least once they turn 18. Faded mates cannot stand being away from each other, cannot exist without one another. And she's been fine without Noah. She doesn't need him. She's not his. If that's true, then losing Noah... would she? Can't breathe. The thought of it, of being bound to him in such a way.

Sage shakes her head violently, stepping back again. "Why didn't you say anything? If I'm your mate, then why didn't you?"

"Because I thought you knew," Noah snapped. "How could you not? For me, it's been a given. Loving you. Our bond. I can't remember not feeling like a part of you is always with me. Sometimes I don't know where my feelings end and yours begin." He looks devastated, holding on to her hand like he knows letting go would mean the end of things. "I realized when I turned 18, but at the time, you were 14, too young to start a relationship, so I kept quiet and waited." He sighs. "I thought of saying something when you started seeing Ben, but you two were happy, so I told myself things would fizzle out on their own. But you never broke up with Ben. I thought you'd chosen him over our bond. Only after we were mated, when you told me you couldn't understand why I hated seeing you two together, did I realize..."

Her eyes widen as a lot of things begin to make sense. Why Noah had run off on her a couple of times, probably reading her conflicting emotions through their bond. How he always seemed to know how she felt. How he knew just where to touch her, always. He knew because he had direct knowledge inside her mind and kept that a secret.

"I wanted to tell you," Noah shakes his head like the thought is too painful to bear. "But I was afraid you'd resent me after all this time. You were finally mine, and I... I couldn't risk losing you."

Sage's mind races. Noah knew. He knew all this time, and he kept it from her. How could he stand there and say nothing, watch her with Ben, knowing the truth? The betrayal stings, cutting deep. And then it clicks. The magician's words. The wish that separated her and Ben. Who else could have made that wish? Noah's the only one who stood to gain from that wish. Her eyes widen with realization, and fury boils inside her.

"You made the wish, didn't you?" Suddenly, she feels nothing. No more hurt, no more anguish, only calm. "You wished for me to be separated from Ben."

Noah's face drains of color, his expression shifting from shock to horror. "No, Sage, I swear I didn't."

"Don't lie to me," she interrupts. "You knew about the wish. You didn't tell me. You betrayed both of us. Me and Ben."

"Sage, I didn't make the wish," Noah pleads. "I would never do that. You... you have to believe me."

"I can't trust you anymore," she cuts him off, stepping back farther. "How can I? You've lied about everything. About us. About our bond. Now I'm supposed to believe you? I'll never forgive you for this."

Noah's face is filled with anguish, but Sage doesn't wait for a response. She turns and runs, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind spinning. All she knows is that she needs to get away, away from him, away from everything. The storm of emotions crashes over her, drowning her in pain, betrayal, and fear. She doesn't look back.

24

Sage goes back to her parents' home and locks herself in her room. The only piece of information she gives Olivia, who's been banging on her door endlessly, is that she won't come out and speak to anyone but him. Ben. According to the magician, Ben should be free from the effects of the spell, from any lingering thoughts of Phoebe, in 3 days. Sage can wait. She's not hungry. She's not upset. She doesn't want to talk or lift her spirit or take her mind off things. She feels numb and empty, like she had after her mother had died, and she'd come to this pack. And the only thing that had gotten her through it had been Ben. He'd shown up beside her and let her remain silent, defended her blank stares and her lack of enthusiasm for anything. He hadn't minded the absence of her scent like everyone else had. She trusted him. And just like she knew he would, Ben shows up. It's strange seeing him at her door, for how how familiar it feels, how safe she feels. A flicker of something, then relief and calm contentment. She likes these feelings. These feelings don't make her feel like she's drowning or walking on thin ice. These feelings are known and familiar, something she's grown with and gotten used to, something she can live with.

"I'm sorry," Ben says softly. "I'm so sorry, Sage." He gives her a warm hug and then brings her a plate of food and sits beside her in silence, a hand on Sage's abdomen, the silent promise to be there for their child.

"Can we get past this?" he says eventually.

Sometime later, days maybe, Sage puts her head on his shoulder and sighs. "We already have."

25

Sometimes during the night, something in Sage softens her guard or her resolve, the walls she's built. Maybe. And then she feels it. A loss and pain like no other. A hurt that threatens to swallow her whole. Every inch of her screaming at the wrongness of it all. She becomes dizzy and nauseous, her chest constricts, and the breath is kicked out of her lungs. She suffocates, gasps, and pleads. It's gone. When she opens her eyes.

26

"It was me," Jess tells her, a week after Sage has left Noah. "I made the wish." There, standing in Sage's kitchen. Everyone out, including Ben. Sage suspects Jess already knew that when she walked in. Jess looks as beautiful as ever, despite her wet hair and drenched clothes, an indication that she'd stood in the pouring rain before coming in.

"I'm sorry," Jess continues, lowering her eyes. "If I'd known about the pregnancy..."

"Why would you even wish for this?" Sage shakes her head in disbelief. It doesn't make sense for Jess to wish for Sage and Ben to be apart.

"You love Noah," Sage says, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to break through at the thought. "You've always loved him."

Jess laughs, though it's not a happy sound. "And yet you wonder why I did it?" she replies, sending Sage a pitiful look. "Is there really no limit to your emotional detachment?"

"What good did it do you to break me and Ben up?" Sage insists, clenching her fists. She feels exposed and ridiculous, like a child being reprimanded. "Surely you must have known me and Noah would..."

"Of course I knew," Jess interrupts, her eyes glaring daggers at Sage. "That's why I did it. Don't you understand? I did it for him, because he'd been in pain for years, and I couldn't bear seeing him like that anymore."

Sage is struck speechless, glad for the emotional void that has engulfed her heart and entire being. It's cold, but it doesn't hurt.

"Me and Noah were still together, you know," when he realized you were his mate," Jess sighs, shaking her head in defeat. "I was so in love with him, and I thought he felt the same. He did feel the same, until he woke up one morning and didn't, because suddenly it was all about you."

Sage purses her lips. "He never noticed me before. You were a child to him. Before his brother's friend, than his brother's girlfriend."

Jess snorts. "I should have known, though. He always had this thing for you, even when you were pale and withdrawn and had no scent. Do you know it was him who asked Ben to befriend you? I was there when he did. He'd seen you from afar and thought you needed a friend."

"Everyone else thought what you needed was an intervention," Sage says nothing, despite the novelty of this information. She hadn't known Noah had ever noticed her, certainly not as kids. She'd noticed him, though, from the very first moment he'd shone brightly like the sun, and everybody was drawn to him, bathing in the glow of his attention. Life in her new pack had seemed cold, and Noah was the only thing that warmed her up. But of course, she'd had no hope of ever attracting his attention, not when she was a child, too young to be of interest to him, nor as a teen, too young and inexperienced to possibly catch the eye of this guy, the future Alpha, whom all the girls fought over anyway.

"Jess says he turned 18 and realized instantly," he said he could feel you, not ever clearly at first, but he was so excited. You should have seen him, the way his eyes shone when he spoke of you, his perfect mate. He broke things off with me and didn't look at another woman while he waited for you to turn 18. He said he'd be patient, that he didn't want to overwhelm you. It was difficult, though, especially when you started dating Ben. But I encouraged him to stick to his original plan. I really thought once you understood Noah could be yours, surely you wouldn't stay with his brother. But then, on the day you turned 18, you showed no sign of understanding the bond, and Noah was devastated. He thought perhaps he was going crazy, that it was all in his head."

"Enough," Sage snaps, though it comes out as a pitiful rasp. And it doesn't seem like Jess hears it. If she does, she doesn't care, because Jess cannot possibly begin to understand. She can't understand how it had felt for Sage to turn 18, wanting nothing more than to claim her Alpha for her own, a man who not only was her boyfriend's brother but who was always surrounded by people. When she, Sage, had only Ben. Ben who wouldn't have even stayed if he'd known how she felt when she looked at Noah. And still, when Noah had wished her happy birthday, when he'd asked her how she felt, when he'd pressed his lips against hers, she'd fled. She'd fled because she'd been terrified, and because she'd felt sorry for Ben. But not even 10 minutes later, she'd returned because her lips were burning, everything felt like it was burning, and she couldn't stop thinking about Noah, how she needed him to touch her again, to look at her. She'd found him kissing Jess, and that had been that.

"That was the night he started drinking," Jess explains, interrupting her thoughts. "He was very good at hiding it, though. You really couldn't tell at first, but over the years, it got worse. Sometimes I can't manage to shake him awake for hours, and then there are all the hookups he says are fun, but I know he doesn't enjoy. Hell, most of them he can't even remember."

The glass in Sage's hand bursts into shards, seemingly out of nowhere. The sight of the blood running down her palm lights a satisfied gleam in Jess's eyes. "So you do care," she comments, her gaze glued to the dripping blood and Sage's hurt. "Who would have thought?"

"Get out of my house," Sage says, turning her back on her. She needs to get her emotions under control. She feels like she's drowning in them, like she's drowning, and she's alone. She doesn't need to hear this. She doesn't want to. It's too late. She and Noah made a mess of things. They both lied and ruined any hope of building a future together. Sage and Ben, however they work, they make sense, and they're having a baby.

"I heard of this magician who could grant wishes for a price," Jess says. "And I asked him to reunite Ben and his faded mate. Best of both worlds. He'd have his mate, and Noah would have his. But the magician told me the one thing he couldn't do was touch faded bonds. He said white magic protected those bonds, and his magic, well, his magic was born out of darkness and suffering." Sage had felt it. "So instead of wishing for him to meet his mate, I wished for him to think he'd met her temporarily, just to give Noah his chance. The magician warned me that whoever Ben chose would have to be human, because a shifter would know Ben wasn't their true mate, and he was afraid a random human would feel overwhelmed, that they wouldn't deserve it. It was risky, as well, for a human to be around shifters."

"So the girl that he works with, Iris?" Sage interrupts. "Yeah, she offered to become Ben's mate for 3 months. I agreed to it because I didn't want some unknowing girl to be caught in this mess. I didn't want any of you to be in any mess, but I was worried about Noah, and I was desperate."

"Or maybe," Sage snarls, "you were hoping that once Ben came to his senses, he and I would get back together, and Noah would finally let me go? You thought if he could have me, he'd get tired of me?"

Jess snorts. "I don't think you understand how much he loves you, Sage. If you think he could have a brief taste of you and be satisfied."

There's a crack in the void, in the numbness. There is pain seeping through. Sage wants absolutely none of it.

"He lied," she snaps, turning away.

"Wait," Jess says. "He really didn't know about the wish, not for a long time. The night you caught me bringing him home, that was when..."

"I don't want to hear it," Sage protests, shaking her head.

Jess's voice rings after her as she walks off. "He didn't make the wish, Sage. You have to talk to him. This is hurting both of you." But Jess's voice rings hollow in her ears. She flees the room and locks herself in her bedroom until Ben comes home, telling her this changes nothing, over and over.

27

It ends with Sage returning to the scene of the crime, though when the car rolls to a stop, Sage doesn't know it's about to end. All she feels is the coastal air tinged with salt and the faint roar of the ocean making her stomach turn. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore sends shivers through her body. Her Uncle Eric, the Alpha of her old pack, the pack she and her father had left after her mother's death, is hosting a party to celebrate a new alliance between him and Noah. Sage had no choice but to attend. She isn't officially Ben's mate yet. She and Noah may not have exchanged mating bites, but there'd still been a ceremony. Before Sage can remarry, their Union must be officially dissolved in the eyes of the pack's priest, and that cannot be done without Noah's approval. She sighs, staring at the expanse of the property ahead. In truth, she has no idea what she's doing here. She has no idea where she's meant to be, just not here. The place holds too many painful memories. It feels like an unnecessary cruelty, but Olivia had insisted, saying that one couldn't run forever, whatever that meant.

The moment Sage's feet touch the ground, the familiar scent of the sea fills her senses, and her heart lurches. Her uncle had been looking forward to seeing her. Eric's sprawling property looms ahead, its dock extending out into the vast expanse of water. Sage's mother used to love these docks. Sometimes she'd sit there watching the ocean, losing track of time, and Sage would go down and take her hand. Her fingers twitch, fighting the urge to grip something for stability. She's barely stepped out of the car, but her body is already on high alert, tension rippling through her. Her gaze flicks to the sky. The clouds thick and heavy, like a storm waiting to unleash its fury. The light filters through in uneven streaks, casting long shadows over the landscape. The same kind of light from that day, she thinks, the day her mother took her out on the boat. Sage blinks rapidly, pushing the thought away. The property is teeming with guests, familiar faces from her youth mingling with the new, and amongst them, a therapist. "It's okay to cry, Sage," they said. "You don't have to be strong all the time." But Sage hadn't cried. Not then. She smiled, said everything was fine, and shoved the pain down so deep it couldn't reach her. But like the sea, its relentless waves crashing against the dock, it feels too vast, too uncontrollable, and no matter how much she tries to distance herself, she's pulled back into it. She swallows hard, trying to focus on anything else, on the guests, on Ben and Olivia who are making polite conversation inside. She answers questions, she smiles. Then Noah enters the reception area, and she loses control of her thoughts. She hasn't even seen him yet, but she feels him, like an anchor pulling her in. His scent reaches her first, woodsy, clean, powerful, and suddenly her senses hone in on him, her body reacting on instinct. The low rumble of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. She flits between conversations with guests she half recognizes and attempts to engage with her sister, but nothing works. Noah is all she can think about, her chest tightening with the weight of it, needing air. She slips outside onto the terrace. The cool wind slapping against her skin. She needs to get out of here. She needs...

"Sage..." The sound of his voice, the way he says her name, has her briefly closing her eyes, trying to catch her breath.

"When will you approve the separation?" she asks without turning around. "How long are you planning to make me suffer?"

Behind her, she hears Noah scoff, his scent spiking in anger. "I make you suffer? We haven't spoken in weeks. How do you think I feel?"

Sage's throat tightens. "If you feel half as bad as I do, then you know there's nothing left to do but go our separate ways," she replies.

Before Noah steps into her personal space, towering over her, and suddenly all she can do is stare at his impossibly beautiful face. And then he's grabbing onto her forearm, and the press of his fingers, burning against her skin, is too much and not enough.

"That is the last thing I want," he sneers, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark and red-rimmed, slightly blurry. The sight makes Sage's stomach drop.

"Have you been drinking?" she asks, already knowing the answer. It's everywhere in the way Noah stands, in the cadence of his speech.

"I can't believe you," she scolds, trying to rip her arm away. "You promised me you wouldn't."

Noah snorts. "And you promised to always be by my side and grow old with me. So, hey, I guess we both lied," he mutters, making Sage flinch. She tries to step away, but Noah pulls her back towards him, and she's too weak to do anything about it, too weak to push him away when his mouth claims hers again. It's been weeks since she's had this, an eternity, it seems, a lifetime. She moans into the kiss, grabs onto Noah's hair, bites into his lower lip until she can feel him everywhere, pressed against her body and her mind. And suddenly, his desire, his fear, and his pain hit her like a tidal wave. She can't breathe. His raw, conflicted emotions threatening to swallow her whole.

"It doesn't help to realize his mind is clearly clouded and impaired," she says.

"Stop," she says, pushing him away. "Ben. Ben's too kind to break things off with you when you're carrying his child, and you know it."

"Noah snarls. "He deserves someone who actually loves him."

"I do," Sage protests, her throat impossibly tight.

"Not like you love me," Noah growls, pulling her against him again. "And he knows it. I know it, and you know it," he adds, whispering against her ear.

Sage could cry for how good it feels being against him like this. "What you love is that you don't love him enough that it scares you," Noah presses relentlessly.

"I'm having his baby," she cries, because she doesn't know what else to say. She's hurt and afraid, so afraid.

"You've been using him as your emotional crutch since you were eight, and it's done neither of you any good, and it won't do your child any good either."

Sage's hand flies across Noah's cheek, the impact resonating in a harsh clapping sound. "I'm sorry," she whispers, horrified at her behavior. This is why she and Noah can't be together. They bring out the worst in each other. When they're together, they lie, they feel pain.

"And Sage, I can feel your emotions through our bond," Noah insists, like he hasn't even noticed the slap. "I know you love me, and I know you're scared."

"Stop," he doesn't. "I know about your mom," he insists.

Sage chokes on her last breath, feeling like her chest is about to explode. "I can't do this," she says, spinning on her heels.

"Sage!" Noah calls out as she rushes towards the stairs at the far end of the terrace. They spin around the cliff on which the house is built, leading back to the docks. Her mother had shown her these stairs. Her mother had helped Sage climb down them too many times to count.

"Sage!" Noah's voice is booming from behind her, but it's drowned out by the blood rushing in Sage's ears. She runs down, step by step, ignoring the wind blowing around her, her dress flying around her, and the wild, roaring sea that is waiting at the bottom. She barely looks at it when she gets into the boat. She doesn't even have a plan, let alone a clear thought. She just needs to get out of here, to run. She needs to not be here, feeling like this, like her world is in shambles, and like her grief is waiting to finally end her. She unties the boat, throws out the rope, and starts rowing. On the horizon, thunder erupts.

28

Sage clutches the sides of the boat, her knuckles white, as the storm rages around her. The wind howls, whipping her hair against her face, and the rain pelts down like needles. The waves crash violently against the hull, and the boat rocks, threatening to throw her overboard. Yet, through it all, sitting across from her, smiling gently despite the storm, is her mother. The memory is so vivid that Sage can almost believe she really is there. That day they'd gone out on the water, the sky darkening as the storm rolled in. Her mother hadn't been bothered, even as the waves tossed their small boat like a toy. Kind of like it does now.

"I think we should turn back, Mom," Sage whispers, her voice trembling. Memories colliding with the present. Her mother doesn't respond, just smiles in that way that used to make Sage feel safe, as if nothing could ever go wrong. But something had gone wrong, and now Sage is adrift, not just in the storm, but in her own grief.

"I'm scared," she whispers, though she's not sure if she's speaking to her mother or to the wind. The boat drifts further from the cliff, the dark water swallowing everything in its path. Thunder rumbles ominously, and Sage barely hears the sound of Noah's voice calling out to her through the storm. But when she does, it cuts through the chaos like a lifeline, warming her heart. She turns her head, scanning the horizon, and for a brief moment, she thinks she sees the outline of another boat.

"Look, Mom," she says. "Daddy's coming. It's going to be okay." But when she'd looked back at her mother's face, fear had gripped her heart. Her mother's smile was vacant, and so were her eyes. A chill crawls down her spine.

"Noah..." she whispers, her eyes darting back to the storm. His voice is closer now, more desperate, calling her name. She doesn't know how much time passes before Noah's boat comes into view, but when it does, it feels like a dream. He's standing there, shouting over the wind, trying to reassure her, his voice thick with worry. He's soaked through, barely keeping his boat steady in the violent waves.

"Get back," he calls, his voice breaking. "Sage, get back now!" But all she can do is stare down at the water. It's a bottomless pit. She feels her mother's arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her close. The sensation is so real, so suffocating, that Sage can't breathe.

"Don't be afraid," her mother whispers, her voice soft, almost soothing. Her cold hand pets Sage's hair, and Sage just wants to go home.

"Noah!" screams. Sage sees him jump from his boat, landing onto hers. The sound is deafening. The sky splitting open with blinding light. Everything happens too fast. Noah grabs her, his arms tight around her.

"I've got you, Sage," he whispers. She buries her face in his chest, terrified and so terribly cold.

"My mother," she cries, a choked, pathetic cry. "She's gone."

"She can't hurt you," Noah replies. For a short moment, everything else disappears. His warmth, his strength, it's all that's grounding her. Then lightning strikes. The boat jolts violently, and Sage feels herself being ripped from Noah's arms as they both fall into the freezing water. The cold hits her like a wall. It knocks the breath from her lungs. Around her, the storm churns, waves pulling her under, and for a moment, she's back there, back in that moment, her mother's arms around her, pulling her down. Panic rises, her chest tightening. The weight of the water presses down on her. She can't breathe.

Noah's mind brushes against hers through the bond, calm and loving. Sage's eyes snap open. Below her, under the chaos of the waves, Noah's unconscious form disappears in the darkness, blood seeping from a wound on his head. "No," she screams, the sound swallowed by the sea. He's sinking, and she can't reach him. Her father had pulled her out of the water, and she'd gasped for air, like she does now, as he'd repeated, "You're safe now. You're safe." But Sage hadn't felt safe, because below them, underneath their boat, her mother had been drowning, just like Noah is now. But Sage is no longer a little girl, and Noah isn't her mother. Noah doesn't want to leave her. She's felt it.

Sage plunges back into the water. The cold bites at her skin, the darkness swallowing her whole. But she doesn't care. She's not afraid anymore, not for herself. All she can think about is Noah. She closes her eyes and focuses on the bond between them, the faint thread that still connects them, even now. Her arms cut through the water with desperate strokes. Her lungs burning. The storm rages above her, the waves pushing her down, but she doesn't stop. Finally, her hand brushes against something solid. She grabs hold of Noah, puts all her strength into swimming the two of them up. His body is limp in her arms, his head lolling to the side when they erupt from the water, but she holds on with everything she has. The storm is relentless, but Sage is stronger. She has to be.

She gets them both onto the boat. Her hands shaking as she lays Noah on the deck. His face is pale, his lips tinged blue. And for a moment, panic grips her. He's not breathing. Sage's hands tremble as she presses down on his chest, her heart clenching with terror. She can't feel a pulse.

"Noah," her voice breaks. "Don't leave me." She presses harder, counting the beats in her head, praying with every breath. "I'm sorry," she cries out, her tears mixing with the rain. "I'm so sorry." He looks pale, so pale and still, and it's all her fault.

"Everyone thinks Mom's death was an accident," Noah murmurs, pressing her hands into his chest again and again. "But I knew the truth. She'd been in pain for years, and that day on the boat, she hadn't wanted me to come along. She drove our boat right into the storm. When help came, she jumped into the water." Tears blur Sage's vision, mixing with the rain. "I wasn't enough, you understand. She left me. She... she left because her love for me wasn't enough. So when I turned 18 and I started feeling our bond, I ignored it because for a brief moment, I felt your pain too, and I thought... I thought one day you'd leave me, and I couldn't bear it."

Sage presses her lips onto Noah's, trying to blow air back into his lungs. "But you were in pain because of me," she cries, her forehead dropping onto his still chest. "Because I was too afraid to lose you, to tell you how much I loved you. But I do love you, Noah. Please forgive me." She sobs and sobs. And then Noah begins to cough, water pulling her into his arms.

"I love you too," he murmurs, eventually, when the coughing stops. On the horizon, the sun pierces through the clouds.

Epilog

The bookstore doesn't seem so impressive in the light of day, perhaps because Sage hasn't stepped foot in, though it took her a while to find it, and she'd realized she'd passed in front of it a few times afterwards without noticing it, almost like something had compelled her not to look too closely.

"You go first," Ben tells her, pushing her back. Sage elbows him in the stomach. "You go first. You're the one who wanted to see Iris again, not me."

"What?" Ben sends her an affronted look. "You said you wanted to apologize to her."

"I'm a mother now," Sage reminds him, crossing her arms. "I have a child to think about." And before Ben can protest, she adds, "And we agreed you were just going to be Phoebe's fun uncle, not her father. So you should go first."

Ben sighs, pushing open the door to the shop. "I still can't believe you named your daughter Phoebe," he grumbles, walking in. The bookstore feels different now, bathed in the muted light of day. It's smaller, less imposing than Sage remembers, and without the cloak of darkness, like the space is withdrawing, folding in on itself. The once eerie silence feeling more like a quiet morning. Ben walks ahead, the doorbell chiming softly. As Sage steps inside, her heart thudding in her chest.

"We're closed," a voice says from the back of the store. Sage instantly recognizes the magician, Adrian's voice.

"Your door was open," she argues, with less bravado than she'd have liked, receiving no answer. She clears her throat and adds, "Is Iris around?"

There's a beat of silence, and the tall, lean figure of the magician appears, dragging his feet through the back door. His copper hair is even messier than Sage remembers, and his face, if possible, more taut than it had already been. He's carrying a bottle in his hand, what's left of its liquid sloshing around pitifully.

"Is he in his pajamas?" Ben mutters to Sage.

"Iris isn't here," the magician snaps, with a roll of his eyes. "Good day," he says, this like he very obviously doesn't care whether they end up having a good day.

"Well, do you know when she'll be back?" Ben fidgets nervously. "I've never had a chance to talk about what happened with her."

A hardened gleam appears behind Adrian's green eyes. "Right, you're the guy," he says vaguely. Sage is pretty sure he's drunk, and not just a little bit. "Well, she was never interested," he explains, turning his heels. "Goodbye."

"No, it's not like I have a girlfriend," Ben protests awkwardly. "I just wanted... we both wanted to apologize for causing her trouble."

Sage nods emphatically, even though Adrian's back is turned to them. "She hasn't been around in a while," he says slowly, like the meaning behind his words is slowly dawning on him. "Though who can blame her? She never signed up to pose as somebody's girlfriend, you see." There's a slight hunch to his shoulders that doesn't sit very well with Sage.

"Oh, don't worry," the magician snorts, giving her a mocking look. "She'll be back at some point. She has to. You wished for it."

"You seem awfully confident for a guy who day drinks in his PJs," Ben retorts, annoyed. Sage elbows him in the stomach again.

"She'll come back because she's tied to me," the magician sneers. "Her father wished for it before he passed, so it's not like she has a choice." There's no mistaking the flicker of self-hatred that crosses his features, and suddenly Sage wants nothing more than to be back home with her mate. For a brief moment, this man, drunk and alone with his dark thoughts, reminds her of him, and it makes her heart tighten in remorse. Though when she gets back home, she finds him in their living room, looking just fine.

"Phoebe's in her room," he tells her, looking smug. "And she smiled. She smiled at me, and you missed it." He grunts as Sage throws herself into his arms, burying her face into his neck to nip at his claiming mark.

"Did something happen?" Noah asks, a little breathlessly, because of where Sage is touching him. She literally goes boneless when he touches hers.

"Is this real?" she murmurs against his skin. "Are you mine?"

Noah's arms tighten around her, and she feels him smile against the crown of her head. "Yes," he says aloud and confident. "Yes."

Thank you for watching. You'll find links to more stories from the same series on your screen. Also, if you enjoyed listening, please consider helping this author pay her rent by giving this video a like or comment. It really helps a lot.