Cassian's kiss still lingered on her lips as Wren stepped back, heart thundering. Her breath hitched, skin flushed, thoughts in complete disarray. She hadn't meant to kiss him back—not really. But her body remembered him. Her soul still ached in places only he had ever touched.
"I should go," she whispered, turning away.
But he grabbed her wrist—gently, carefully. "Don't."
His voice was hoarse, his eyes dark with regret and longing. "Please, Wren. Don't shut me out now. Not after—"
"After what?" she cut in, eyes blazing. "After you kissed me like you never left, like I'm not the girl you rejected in front of your entire pack?"
"I made a mistake."
"You made a choice."
Cassian's jaw flexed. "You think it didn't destroy me? Watching you with him?"
Wren yanked her hand free. "Don't you dare bring Veylan into this. He was there when you weren't."
A flash of anger crossed Cassian's face. "And now what? Is he your new mate?"
Wren's silence said more than she meant it to.
Before either of them could speak again, the cottage door creaked open.
Veylan stood there, his shadow stretched long in the candlelight. He didn't flinch when he saw Cassian. Didn't even blink.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked coolly.
Wren's heart sank. "Veylan…"
But Veylan's gaze never left Cassian. "I'm not here to fight. I came to check on her."
Cassian moved to stand in front of Wren, subtle but unmistakable. "She's fine."
Veylan's eyes narrowed. "She looks shaken."
"I can speak for myself," Wren snapped. "Gods, you two. I'm not a prize to be fought over in some pack challenge. I'm me. And right now, I'm angry. I'm confused. And I'm done pretending I'm not."
Veylan stepped inside, slowly. "Then let's stop pretending."
And before Wren could breathe, his hand was at her waist and he kissed her—fierce, claiming, as if daring Cassian to watch.
Wren's fingers curled into Veylan's shirt. Part of her wanted to push him away. Part of her didn't.
Cassian growled, low and sharp. "Get your hands off her."
Veylan broke the kiss and turned to him, calm as ice. "You had your chance, wolf. She doesn't owe you anything now."
"I'll rip you apart—"
"Stop!" Wren cried, magic sparking at her fingertips. "Both of you, stop!"
The power crackled between them—raw, hot, dangerous. Both men stepped back as the air shimmered, the floorboards trembling beneath her feet.
"I need space. If either of you actually care about me, you'll give it to me."
They hesitated. Cassian looked gutted. Veylan looked wounded beneath his calm.
But then they left. One after the other. Without another word.
That night, Wren stood alone beneath the stars, tears drying on her cheeks.
She was so tired of being torn in half.
Three days later
Wren hadn't seen either of them.
She trained harder than ever—summoning flame from her palms, calling shadows, brewing elixirs that burned like memory. But no magic could quiet the war inside her.
Until Cassian showed up again—at the edge of the woods.
"I didn't come to fight," he said. "Just to talk."
She hesitated. But nodded once.
He walked with her in silence for a while, then finally said, "I meant it, you know. I still feel the bond."
"I know," she said. "I feel it too."
He turned to her, hopeful.
"But that doesn't mean it's enough," she added.
His face fell.
"You hurt me, Cassian. And you can't just kiss me and make that disappear."
"I know," he whispered. "But I'd rather wait a lifetime for you to forgive me than walk away now."
Her throat tightened. But before she could reply, another presence entered the glade.
Veylan.
"You're here," he said, gaze softening as he saw her. "I didn't know if I should come."
Wren stood between them—one wolf who had broken her, another who had helped put her back together.
Cassian's fists clenched. "She doesn't need you."
"She does," Veylan said gently, eyes never leaving Wren's. "And you know it."
Wren looked between them. Her pulse raced.
"I don't want to be someone who's chosen by who fights hardest," she said. "I want to be with the one who sees me—truly sees me—and doesn't run from it."
Veylan stepped forward. "Then look at me."
Cassian moved closer too. "And look at me."
They were both so close now—too close.
She could smell the wild pine on Cassian's skin, the storm in his scent.
She could feel the steady hum of Veylan's magic, dark and grounding.
And gods, she wanted both. Wanted the pull, the fire, the ache.
Her magic flared, sudden and sharp—responding to her need, to the chaos.
A pulse of heat shot between them all, like something ancient awakening.
Wren gasped. Both men reached for her—
And she let them.
One hand in each of theirs.
Eyes closed.
Heart open.
Not choosing. Not yet.
Just burning.