Into the Alpha’s Keep Chapter 69: 69

I didn’t need to search for Fenrir; I knew exactly where he was. It wasn’t his scent that guided me—no trace of woodsmoke or pine lingered in the air to mark his trail. Instead, it was the warmth of his presence, a subtle, intangible pull that hummed beneath my skin, drawing me to him like a beacon.

My body moved of its own accord, my feet carrying me forward as if tethered to an unseen force, a magnet irresistibly drawn to its counterpart.

I surrendered to it, letting the instinct take over, my steps quiet but purposeful as I wandered through the night.

I understood now, more clearly than ever, how he always managed to find me in those desperate moments when danger closed in.

It wasn’t just skill or luck—it was something deeper, something primal. This connection between us felt like pure instinct, an unspoken language etched into our souls, whispering our exact locations to one another across any distance. It was strange, almost otherworldly, and yet it felt as natural as breathing.

The realization settled over me, both comforting and unsettling, a thread of fate I couldn’t untangle.

The cold was growing sharper, more biting, as I moved farther from the Samhain bonfires. Their distant glow and warmth had faded, leaving the air aggressively frigid, a stark contrast to the revelry I’d left behind.

The chill seeped through my clothes, prickling my skin and tightening my muscles, but I pressed on, undeterred.

My breath clouded in front of me, faint wisps curling into the darkness, and I tucked my hands into my sleeves, steeling myself against the night’s harsh embrace.

I approached the lake with deliberate care, my footsteps hushed against the earth. The leaves beneath me were damp with dew, their once-crisp edges softened by the moisture, no longer crackling with each step.

The silence was profound, broken only by the faint ripple of water lapping at the shore and the distant echo of the celebration I’d abandoned.

The scene before me unfolded like a painting: Fenrir stood with his back to me, his silhouette framed against the lake’s glassy surface. His shoulders were rigid, squared with a tension that belied the stillness of the moment.

The moon hung low and full in the sky, its pale light stretching across the water, transforming it into a shimmering silver mirror that reflected the heavens above. The landscape was breathtaking under night’s velvet veil, shadows and moonlight weaving together in a quiet symphony of beauty.

I paused, struck by it, wondering why I’d never thought to come here in the summer—to bathe in this serene glow, to let the water wash away the weight of the day.

Fenrir shifted, his hand dipping into his pocket, and I instinctively ducked behind the gnarled trunk of a nearby tree, peering out cautiously.

He withdrew a small object, and my breath caught as I recognized it: the white box, intricately carved with delicate flowers, the one he kept tucked away on the top shelf of the wardrobe.

It was a relic of mystery to me, something I’d glimpsed but never dared to ask about, its significance locked behind his guarded silence. He held it in his palm, staring at it with an intensity that made the air feel heavier.

He stared at the object and let out an exasperated breath. He ran his thumb over the carved flowers before opening the box and, without hesitation, tossing the ashes inside it into the air.

"I choose to hold on to the good moments," he whispered to the wind. He threw the box into the center of the lake, discarding it as well.

I had no idea what it was, but it seemed to mean a lot to him and be connected to Catalina. It was New Year's for them. Samhain meant leaving things behind, in the past, and that was exactly what Fenrir seemed to be doing.

I shouldn’t have been there. It was his moment. I knew what the lake meant and what had happened. It was on its shores that she died, where an obsessed wolf took her life.

I was invading his privacy.

I stepped away from the tree and started walking away, trying to make as little noise as possible to avoid being noticed.

"Come here, little wolf." His voice shot through the air.

I froze and pressed my eyes shut, releasing my breath through my nose before turning and walking toward him.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy," I murmured, pressing my coat against my body nervously. "I just wanted to... um... thank you for defending me."

He remained still, his gaze fixed on the slowly floating water, creating small ripples with the wind.

"I should have done that a long time ago," he confessed. "Marilyn and I have a past, she means a lot to me, and I respect her, but she tends to cross the line sometimes." He turned to me. "I’ve never treated Marilyn that way before, especially not in front of everyone," he whispered, swallowing hard. "She’ll never be a problem for you again."

I nodded and rubbed a hand through my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear.

"I’m sorry for interrupting your moment."

He shook his head and cast another look at the lake.

"The box you saw me throwing away contained some of the ashes from the pyre that burned Catalina's body." His eyes met mine. "Samhain seemed like the right opportunity to rid myself of them."

"Why?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"I don’t know... I think it’s time to move on and hold on to only the good memories. Stop dwelling on the past." He let out a deep sigh. "I think feeling your near-death was the trigger I needed for that."

"I understand," I whispered, somewhat taken aback.

It had a deep, overwhelming meaning. My palms were damp as I sweated coldly, listening to him reveal things about the past that I never thought he would.

He ran his tongue over his lips, his breath condensing before his face.

"I’ve always respected Marilyn. She’s the only one who knows my demons and knows what I really felt when Catalina died. But today... after today, I know I’ve changed, that something inside me has changed." He looked at me, his shoulders tense. "If she had hurt you, Savannah, I don’t know what I would have been capable of doing. My beast would have taken control and... I couldn’t have controlled the situation that would’ve followed."

My heart raced, and I felt my skin freeze at his confession. That changed many things for both of us, it redefined everything.

Fenrir was trying to bury the ghosts of his past and fulfill the promise he had made to me, that he would make my life peaceful and good. Not just in the respect he had shown in front of everyone, ensuring there were no problems with the pack, but also showing that he respected me as his mated female. It wasn’t, obviously, the promise of celibacy to me, of a relationship, but no other wolf would disrespect me the way Marilyn had.

I would have peace.

I ignored the lump that grew in my throat and the weight that formed in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

It didn’t mean anything, it was nothing more than his duty, the fulfillment of his word. Very simple.

I pushed everything my wolf felt about it to a very deep place in my mind.

He seemed to feel the weight of what he had said, of what he had confessed. Avoiding my gaze, he turned to the lake and pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing his bare chest.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, confused.

"I'm going to take a bath," he said, reaching for the buttons of his dark jeans.

My eyes widened, unable to look away from his half-naked body.

"In this cold?" I hissed.

He shot me a look, silver dancing around the blue, and gave a fleeting smile.

"The water should be warm." He winked, covering his eyes with his long, dark lashes. "If it’s cold, I’ll warm you up."

I choked, stunned.

He undid the button on his jeans and lowered his pants to his calves, kicking his boots away. I kept my eyes high, ignoring his legs, especially what was in between them. He finished undressing and walked, naked, into the water.