Page 24 of Hunted By the Wolves
Instead, he anchored himself in something steadier—respect.Awe.A vow he didn’t voice but felt settle into his bones.
Whatever came next, whatever this war demanded, Riley Quinn would never stand alone again.
Elara smiled, wide and knowing.“Good.And if you ever want advice on handling two shifter mates—”
Riley went pale.“That’s what Christian called me.What is a mate ...exactly”
The room shifted.
Rafe drew a slow breath and started first, hands lifting slightly, palms open in a way meant to reassure rather than claim.“A mate isn’t ownership,” he said carefully.“It’s ...recognition.Instinct knowing something before your head catches up.”He faltered, jaw tightening, the words suddenly inadequate.He stopped.
Dorian stepped in smoothly, voice lower, steadier.“It’s choice,” he said.“Mutual.It doesn’t trap you.It doesn’t take anything from you.”He shook his head once.“What Christian did—what he said—that wasn’t it.”Even he paused, frustration flickering when language failed him.
Victor leaned forward next, elbows on the table, instinctively shifting into explanation mode.“Think of it less like fate and more like alignment,” he offered.“Biology, instinct, consent—all of it has to line up.Without that, it’s just noise.”He stopped, too, clearly aware he wasn’t helping.
Ivan exhaled sharply, eyes dark.“Bottom line,” he said bluntly.“A mate doesn’t hurt you.Ever.”
Silence settled.The explanation still sat wrong, half-formed, too tangled in theory and restraint.
Elara raised her hand.“Stop.You are stuffing it up, let me do it” She turned to Riley.“Here’s the truth,” Elara said gently.“A mate isn’t a claim or a sentence or some cosmic trick that traps you.It’s not fate dragging you somewhere you don’t want to go.For shifters, it’s recognition—your instincts seeing someone and saying this is safe, this is equal, this is home.But that recognition doesn’t mean anything unless you answer it.Choice is what makes it real.You choose who you let stand beside you.You choose who touches your life, your body, your future.Without that choice?It’s just noise.Just words.It manifests as a bond between you and your mate or mates, and it is beautiful.”
Riley stared at her, then exhaled.“Oh!I get it.Christian wasn’t my mate, he might have chosen me, but there is no way in hell that I would choose him, so that bond would never form.”
Relief rippled through the room.
“Exactly.”Elara squeezed her hand.“And if you ever want to talk?Me.You.Klarissa.And a jug of margaritas each, and we will give you all the information you need.”
Riley laughed, shaky but real.“Deal.”
The lift chimed again.
Jackson stepped out, expression serious.“Intel update.Christian isn’t listed as rogue.He’s not on any active shifter registry either.Someone high up pulled a lever and made him disappear from the system.”He paused, letting that land.“Whatever Christian is doing, he isn’t acting alone.”
Silence fell.
Rafe felt the pressure shift.
This had all turned very personal.Chimera and Christian.All of it seemed to be slamming together rather than just one big coincidence.
And Riley was standing at the center of it all.
****
“You don’t have to goin if you don’t want to.You can just take the lift back to our floor if you want.”Rafe’s voice was low, pitched for Riley alone, but it carried the weight of a genuine out—not obligation, not expectation.Choice.
They’d been downstairs finishing up after breakfast when an alert came through—a rogue on a rampage, close enough to escalate fast.Their skills as hunters were needed immediately.
Riley looked at him as the doors to the lift opened on the tenth-floor Command Center.She’d been there before—enough that the space didn’t surprise her—but she still took it in as she stepped out, the way she always did.Habit.Assessment.
“I want to,” she said after a beat.Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.“I just ...need a second.”
Dorian shifted beside her—not closer, not farther away.Just present, his body angled so she could see him if she needed to.“Take it.”
They didn’t touch her.
The atmosphere was hushed, acoustically dampened, the kind of engineered quiet designed to keep urgency contained.Light panels ran in clean white lines along the ceiling, guiding movement without drawing attention.
The Command Center, the strategic heart of the E.S.E opened out ahead of them.
