Chapter 19: The Guard

The next morning, the world felt different.

The stones of the lodge seemed to hold the echo of his confession, and the air still tasted of our kiss. I moved through my duties in the healing ward with a detached focus, my mind a thousand miles away, trapped in a moonlit garden. Eira shot me a few curious glances but said nothing. The sharp-tongued old healer was perhaps the only one who sensed the shift in the atmosphere.

I was sorting dried yarrow blossoms when the door to the ward opened. I expected a patient, or perhaps Calder with another icy warning. But it was Garrick, and he was not alone.

A young warrior followed him, a man I recognized vaguely from the training grounds. He was tall and lean, with a quiet intensity in his eyes and a scar that cut through his eyebrow. He stood with a patient stillness that spoke of discipline.

Garrick’s gaze found me immediately. It was not the cold, commanding look of the Alpha, nor the raw, tormented expression from the garden. It was something new, something heated and possessive that made my breath catch. He didn't smile, he simply looked at me as if memorizing my face.

“Anika,” he said, and my name was a low command that pulled everyone’s attention to me. Eira paused her grinding. “This is Orion.”

The young warrior, Orion, dipped his head in a respectful nod. His eyes were wary but not hostile.

“From today,” Garrick continued, his voice carrying easily in the quiet room, “Orion will be your shadow.”

The words landed like a physical blow. A shadow, a jailer. The fragile understanding from the garden shattered, replaced by a familiar, bitter resentment. I straightened, my hands clenching at my sides. “I don’t need a guard,” I said, my voice tight. “I am perfectly capable within these walls.”

Garrick took a step toward me, and the space between us crackled. “It is not a request.” His eyes held mine, and in their grey depths, I saw a complex message. There was the iron will of the Alpha, but beneath it, something else flickered. A protectiveness that was entirely new.

“Is this because of Calder? Or is this your way of putting me back on a leash?” I challenged, ignoring Eira’s sharp intake of breath.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He closed the remaining distance until he was standing right before me. He was so close I could see the faint stubble along his jawline and feel the heat radiating from his body. The scent of him, pine and cold air and pure male, wrapped around me.

“The attack at the border proved that my enemies see you as a target,” he said, his voice dropping so only I could hear. The words were for the room, but his eyes were only for me. “They see your presence here as a weakness, they will try to use you to get to me.”

“So I am a liability to be managed,” I shot back, my heart hammering.

His hand came up, and his fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from my cheek. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt of lightning through my entire system. My traitorous body swayed toward him.

“You are anything but a liability,” he murmured, his voice a rough, intimate whisper that was meant for my ears alone. “And this is not a leash, it is a shield.”

He held my gaze, and the intensity there was overwhelming. This was not about imprisonment, this was a declaration. By assigning me a personal guard, he was publicly marking me as under his direct protection. It was a subtle, profound change in my status. I was no longer just a prisoner; I was a protected asset. His.

He pulled his hand away, the loss of contact feeling like a sudden chill. He turned to Orion. “Her safety is your only priority, you report only to me.”

Orion nodded again, his expression grimly determined. “Understood, Alpha.”

Without another word, Garrick turned and walked out of the healing ward. The door shut behind him, leaving Eira, Orion, and me in a thick silence.

I stood there, my skin still tingling from his touch, my mind reeling. Orion took up a post by the door, his presence a silent, watchful force.

I tried to ignore him, returning to my yarrow blossoms with forced concentration. But I was hyper-aware of his every slight movement, the quiet sound of his breathing. It was infuriating, I felt my limited freedom, hard-won over weeks, shrinking again.

Later, when I left the ward to fetch more water from the well, Orion fell into step a few paces behind me. I could feel the eyes of the pack on us, their whispers a rustling current in our wake. The message was being received.

I spun around to face him in the middle of the courtyard. “You do not need to follow me so closely, I am not going to sprout wings and fly away.”

He didn’t react to my anger. His expression remained neutral. “My orders are clear, my lady.”

“Do not call me that,” I snapped.

“My apologies,” he said, his tone even. He didn’t call me anything else.

Frustrated, I turned and continued to the well, hauling up the heavy bucket. Before I could struggle with it, Orion was there. He took the rope from my hands, his own grip sure and strong, and lifted the full bucket with ease.

“I can do it myself,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I have no doubt,” he replied, setting the bucket at my feet. “But my duty is to serve and protect. Carrying heavy things falls under both categories.”

I stared at him, disarmed by his simple logic. He wasn't trying to antagonize me. He was just doing his job. A job assigned by Garrick. I picked up the bucket, my arms straining, and walked back to the ward, acutely aware of his silent presence at my back.

The day wore on. Everywhere I went, Orion was there as a silent, stoic shadow. The initial fury began to dull, replaced by a weary acceptance. I tended to patients, helped Eira prepare poultices, and all the while, the weight of Garrick’s decision pressed down on me.

As dusk began to settle, casting long shadows across the compound, I saw him again. Garrick was standing on the steps to the great hall, speaking with Calder. His Beta’s face was a mask of cold displeasure. As I walked past with Orion in tow, Garrick’s eyes lifted and met mine over Calder’s shoulder.

The connection was instant and electric, it was as if the rest of the world fell away. His gaze was a physical touch, hot and possessive. It traveled over my face, down my body, and back up, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I felt a flush rise on my skin, a pooling of heat low in my belly. My steps faltered for a second.

Calder followed his Alpha’s gaze, his own eyes narrowing as he took in the scene; me, and my new guard. His expression was thunderous.

But Garrick didn’t look away from me. A slow, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. It was a smile of satisfaction. He had made his move on the board of pack politics, and he was watching me react. He had given me a shield, yes, but he had also bound me to him more tightly than any chain ever could. And as I stood there, trapped in the heat of his gaze, with his guard at my back and his enemy at his side, I realized the most terrifying thing of all.

I did not want to run.