Chapter 6 – The Space Between
The smell of burning sage was the first thing I noticed. Bitter, sharp, and heavy in my lungs. The second was the low hum of voices—familiar, too familiar, woven with anger and worry.
“She fainted in front of the entire pack, Alden. What do you mean it’s nothing?” Sebastian’s voice was tight, the kind of tight that comes from trying too hard to keep your composure.
I didn’t have to open my eyes to picture him: shoulders rigid, jaw clenched, golden eyes burning like a caged wolf’s.
“It’s stress,” Alden said, calm as always, the voice of reason in a room full of snapping teeth. “Her body gave in. She needs rest. Sleep. Time away from tension. Nothing more.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Hardin. His voice rolled over me like thunder, deeper, heavier, impossible to ignore. I shivered though I wasn’t cold. “She dropped to the ground like she’d been shot. That isn’t just stress.”
“She’s fine,” Alden said, firmer this time. “Her pulse is steady. Her breathing normal. I’ve seen worse collapses from wolves who trained too hard. Give her space. That’s all she needs.”
“That’s not enough,” Sebastian snapped.
“Then maybe the problem isn’t me,” Alden countered, and for a heartbeat the room fell into silence.
I wanted to stay hidden in the quiet, my eyes closed, but the weight of their voices pressed on me, dragging me upward. My lashes fluttered, the world blurring into focus—jars lined on wooden shelves, herbs drying in the corner, the faint crackle of a fire pit.
And them.
Sebastian was closest, hunched forward in a chair beside the cot I lay on. His hand hovered like he wanted to touch me but didn’t dare. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, his shirt wrinkled like he hadn’t stopped pacing since they brought me here.
Hardin stood by the window, a shadow carved in silver light. His arms were crossed, his frame towering, but it was his eyes that held me—the kind of eyes that didn’t just look at you, they claimed you.
And Tia—sweet, loyal Tia—stood near the doorway, her arms folded tight over her chest, her lips pursed like she was holding back the urge to bite both of them.
“She’s awake,” Sebastian breathed, relief flooding his features as he leaned closer. “Rhianna… goddess, you scared me.”
“You’re both too loud,” I whispered, my throat dry.
Sebastian flinched, immediately retreating, guilt flashing across his face. Hardin’s lips curled the faintest bit, like my honesty amused him.
“How do you feel?” Tia asked softly, moving to my side before either brother could. She brushed her hand against mine, grounding me.
“I feel… like I’ve been trampled,” I admitted. “But I’m not dead. So that’s something.”
“You collapsed,” Sebastian said quickly, his voice rough with desperation. “In front of everyone. I should’ve been faster. I should’ve—”
“Stop.” My voice was thin, but it cut through his rambling. “You couldn’t have stopped it.”
Hardin shifted by the window, his eyes narrowing. “She wouldn’t have collapsed if she wasn’t being dragged into your circus.”
Sebastian’s head snapped toward him. “You think this is my fault?”
“I don’t think,” Hardin said, his voice sharp as a blade. “I know. You’re so busy playing perfect Alpha that you don’t see she’s crumbling.”
“I’m doing everything I can for her!”
“Not enough.”
The words hung in the air like smoke. Tia’s hand tightened around mine, her thumb rubbing soothing circles, but it did nothing to ease the ache blooming in my chest.
“Both of you,” Alden said firmly, stepping between them, “will do nothing but drive her into the ground if you keep this up. She needs calm, not wolves snarling over her bed.”
I closed my eyes briefly, my chest rising and falling too fast. When I opened them again, all three of them were watching me.
“I want to go,” I said, surprising even myself with the steadiness in my tone.
“Home?” Sebastian asked quickly, hope flaring in his gaze.
“Not home,” I said, shaking my head. “Not with you. Not with either of you. I just… I need space.”
Sebastian’s face fell like I’d struck him. “Rhianna—”
“I can’t do this,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “Not tonight. Not when every breath feels like a fight and both of you are pulling me in pieces. I need air. I need… peace.”
Hardin didn’t move. He didn’t argue. He just stared, unblinking, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable—but the intensity in his gaze was louder than anything Sebastian could’ve said.
Tia stepped forward, her grip on my hand firm. “Then you’re coming with me,” she said, her voice brooking no argument. “She’ll stay at my place tonight. She’ll be safe, and maybe she’ll actually rest without the two of you hovering.”
Neither brother liked it. I could see it in the rigid set of Sebastian’s shoulders, in the way Hardin’s nostrils flared as if the wolf in him was fighting to stay leashed. But neither stopped her.
With Tia’s help, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my body trembling but my resolve steadier than it had been in weeks. Sebastian reached as if to catch me, but I pulled away, leaning into Tia instead.
“I’ll be fine,” I whispered. The lie sat bitter on my tongue.
As we reached the door, I glanced back one last time. Sebastian looked broken, his eyes pleading. Hardin hadn’t moved an inch, his gaze locked on me like he was memorizing every line of me in the moonlight.
And that stare burned into me long after we stepped out.
Tia’s house was quieter. No herbs burning, no brothers fighting, no healer pretending everything was fine. Just silence, broken only by the creak of floorboards beneath our feet and the whisper of the night wind outside.
She helped me onto the couch, tugging a blanket over me before dropping onto the chair opposite with a sigh. For a moment, she just studied me, her brows furrowed, her lips pressed tight.
Finally, she leaned forward, her voice low. “You know, right?”
“Know what?” I asked, my head heavy against the cushions.
“That Hardin…” She paused, searching my face. “That he’s not going to let this go. That look he had—it wasn’t worry. It was… possession. He’s been obsessed with you since we were kids, Rhi. You remember.”
My chest ached. I closed my eyes, but his stare was burned into my mind, impossible to forget.
“You’re not just caught between brothers,” Tia whispered. “You’re caught in a storm that isn’t going to stop until one of them breaks.”
Her words lingered in the room, heavy and sharp, and though I wanted to deny it, I couldn’t.
Because deep down, I already knew she was right.