He pulled me into his arms so tightly I couldn't breathe, his wolf rumbling beneath his skin, his voice caught between fury and anguish.
"Why didn't you come to me?"
"Lyra." He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his storm-grey eyes. "Remember this. Even if every pack in existence turns their backs on you, I want you. I will always want you."
After that, Alaric poured everything he had into caring for me.
He brought me into the Nightfall Pack's elite training grounds, a world of Alpha heirs and pure-blooded wolves where I stuck out like a stray among thoroughbreds. Everyone waited for me to fail. To crumble. To prove I didn't belong among their ancient bloodlines.
At the opening gathering of the season, Alaric took the central stone as the pack's most promising young Alpha. He was supposed to give a speech about territory expansion and alliance strategies.
Instead, he looked directly into the assembled wolves and declared:
"Lyra Ashvale is my life. Touch her, and you touch me. Harm her, and I will personally ensure your line ends with you."
The whispers stopped after that.