Family thing

Chapter 4

Meya's POV

The wind whispered between the trees, carrying the scent of pine needles and wet earth. My boots squelched against the muddy forest path, the hem of my cloak dragging in the grime. I hugged it tighter around myself, not for the cold—it wasn't cold—but because it felt like something was watching me.

Maybe because something was.

Rowan had sent me out alone again.

I told him the rogue Alpha might not take kindly to receiving a message from a lowly she-wolf. He didn't care. Said if I wanted to act like I belonged among Alphas, sneaking into that summit like I did, I could face the consequences of stepping out of place.

So I went. Because saying no never got me anywhere. Especially not with Rowan.

I should have shifted and run home as a wolf. But something in me wanted to feel the weight of every step. The forest felt quieter than usual. The kind of quiet that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Like a warning.

Then I heard it—footsteps, light and steady, not far behind.

I stopped.

So did they.

I swallowed hard and turned slowly.

Arthur stepped out from the trees, his features calm but alert, like he hadn't quite decided yet if I was prey or kin.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said softly.

I didn't know what to say. Why was he here? Why was he following me?

Then I felt it. The pull. The bond was strong.

He glanced at the dirt on my cloak and the weariness in my eyes, then added, "Didn't feel right letting you walk back alone."

My heart skipped, not because of his words exactly, but because of the way he said them. As if I mattered. As if my safety was worth his time.

We walked in silence after that. I couldn't bring myself to ask why he was really there. I didn't want to spoil the moment with reality.

But at the edge of the pack grounds, reality found us anyway.

Jayden was already waiting, leaning against a pine like he'd been there a while. He straightened when he saw me with Arthur. The resemblance was there between them.

Arthur is a twin?

His eyes flicked from me to his brother. "Is she the one?" he asked quietly.

Arthur didn't hesitate. "Yeah. She's the one I was talking about."

Jayden's gaze settled on me. He didn't smile—not exactly—but there was something almost satisfied in the look he gave. Like a puzzle piece had clicked into place. He didn't say another word. Just gave Arthur a knowing look and walked off, melting into the night like a ghost.

I swallowed hard at the awkwardness. We continued until my pack gate was within eyes shot.

I barely had time to process everything when a snarl broke through the quiet night.

"Meya!"

Rowan's voice hit me like a slap. I turned just in time to see him storming toward us, fists clenched, fury all over his face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he spat, grabbing my arm like I'd personally offended the moon.

Arthur stepped forward instantly. "Let go of her."

Rowan's eyes flashed. "This is none of your concern, Alpha."

"It is when you put hands on her like she's property," Arthur snapped. "She's your sister—not your punching bag."

I could feel the air shift. Others were starting to notice. A few pack members hovered nearby, pretending not to watch.

I tried to pull free. "Arthur, please. It's okay. It's just… it's a family thing."

Arthur's jaw clenched, but his eyes stayed on Rowan. "That doesn't give him the right."

"Watch yourself," Rowan growled, releasing me only to step chest-to-chest with Arthur. "You don't want to start a war you can't finish."

I could feel it building. The crackle of dominance, the heavy pull of power between them. My throat went dry.

Then, before either of them could throw the first blow, another voice cut through like a blade.

"Enough."

Our mother.

She moved between them, head held high, her voice steel wrapped in velvet. "Rowan, what do you think you're doing?"

"She was walking in with him," Rowan snapped, jabbing a finger toward Arthur. "After defying me—again."

"I don't care," she said sharply. "That's your sister you just grabbed. And your older sister, at that. You don't raise a hand to her. Ever."

Rowan blinked, caught off guard. She never scolded him in public. Maybe that's why he actually listened.

"Stay out of it, Mom," he muttered.

She turned to face him fully. "No. I won't. I've let you run this house like a pack, but you forget yourself, Rowan. You are not her Alpha. She's not a wolf under your command—she's your blood. Start acting like it."

Arthur took a step back, visibly seething. His hands were balled into fists. I could feel the rage in him—not wild and unstable, but fierce and controlled, like a fire held in check behind glass. He looked at me, then at Rowan, and shook his head in disgust.

"You're a disgrace to the word brother," he said coldly.

Rowan surged forward again, but I blocked him this time, hands on his chest. "Please stop," I whispered. "Please."

His jaw flexed. I could feel his heart pounding under my palm.

He exhaled through his nose, then grabbed my arm again—gentler this time, but still firm—and pulled me with him. "You and I are going to have a talk."

Behind us, I heard Arthur's voice, low and deadly.

"You lay another finger on her, and we will have a problem."

I turned my head and met his eyes. I didn't know what I was silently asking him for—forgiveness? Space? Help? Maybe all three.

His expression softened just a fraction, but he didn't move. He just stood there, watching, as Rowan led me inside and closed the door behind us.