Knotting His Rejected Breeder

The gravel drive was almost completely dark when Dane killed the headlights, letting the sedan roll to a quiet stop beside the lower garages. It was well past midnight, and for once, the heavy silence settling over the estate should have felt like a relief.

He had walked away from Silvercrest without waiting for the morning’s Council hearing, leaving before anyone could stop him. Nobody had chased them out; Vance had simply opened the road, made his point, and finally pulled his men back. As far as Silvercrest was concerned, Dane was merely returning home with a bruised reputation and a bad attitude—and he was more than content to let the Council deliberate on whether to take offense.

Opening the door, he stepped into the immediate bite of the night air. Across the car, Henrik climbed out from the passenger side, pulling his jacket tighter against the sudden chill.

"Gee, I don’t remember the main house being this dark," Henrik muttered, glancing toward the silhouette of the property.

Dane followed his gaze. The stone house stood pressed against the black sky like a wall, broken only by a single light burning faintly somewhere near the lower hall.

"Ramon’s probably lying in wait on the porch," Dane said, turning to set a pace toward the steps.

"Wouldn’t surprise me," Henrik agreed, falling in behind him.

Dane barely reached the second step before the front door creaked open, revealing Ramon framed in the doorway. The yellow lantern beside him caught the deep, tired lines etched into his face, highlighting his messy gray hair, his half-unbuttoned shirt, and the dark circles shadowing his eyes.

He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days.

When his eyes landed on Dane, he didn’t move; he simply leaned heavily against the doorframe and released a long, slow breath.

Stopping on the stairs, Dane looked up at him.

"What is it?"

"You’re back early," Ramon noted flatly.

"I had a reason. I thought I would stay until the hearing, but Vance folded." Dane climbed the remaining steps, rolling the tension out of his shoulders as he spoke. "Told you he couldn’t keep those men on the pass forever. He was losing money every hour, his business partners were screaming at him, and Aurora finally talked him into pulling the men back."

Behind him, Henrik let out a sharp snort.

"Right. She ’talked him into it.’"

Dane cast a cold glance over his shoulder.

"Not now."

"You mean she begged you in her silk robe and you ran out before she could corner you again," Henrik pushed.

"I didn’t run," Dane snapped, pushing past Ramon into the foyer. "I just didn’t see the point in wasting time listening to Vance complain to a room full of old men at eight in the morning."

He tossed his keys onto the entry table, where they landed with a sharp, echoing clatter against the polished wood.

"The Red Keep road is open, Checkpoint Four is clear, Vance looks like an idiot, and everybody wins."

When no one answered, the sudden absence of noise made Dane pause. He frowned, scanning the dim hallways of the ground floor.

"Why are all the lights off? Where is everybody?"

Ramon stepped inside and shut the heavy door behind them.

"Shut up, Dane."

The words were quiet, but the absolute flat severity in his tone made them land far harder than a shout.

Dane turned around, watching the last remnants of smugness drain from his father’s face—and feeling his own confidence evaporate with it.

"What happened?"

Ramon walked slowly into the center of the foyer.

"You think you won something over there? You think you walked into Silvercrest, pushed Vance until he backed down, and came home victorious?"

"Dad—"

"While you were playing games with Vance," Ramon interrupted, his voice cutting through the space, "four of our men were getting butchered at the south creek."

Dane stared at him in utter silence.

For a second, the words refused to arrange themselves into anything coherent, but as their meaning sank in, his stomach dropped into a cold pit.

"What?"

From the shadowed hallway near the side table, Sonia emerged. Dane hadn’t noticed her standing there in the dim light. Her hands were slowing as she wrapped strips of clean linen into neat rolls, her face pale beneath the weak glow of the lamps and her eyes rimmed with red.

"Eren," she said softly, her voice cracking on the name. "Miller’s two boys. And Thomas."

Henrik’s posture shifted instantly.

"Thomas?"

Ramon looked over at him.

"He was at the fence line when they crossed," Ramon said, his tone sharpening with anger. "And we still don’t know where they retreated to. They’d come for Destiny and she said they were a cursed pack. Something about a stone. The pack members were slaughtered to tell her to return the stone!"

An oppressive quiet fell over the room.

Dane felt a numb cold settle deep inside his chest. He had spent the entire drive home quietly celebrating, ruminating on Vance and Aurora, and relishing the satisfaction of seeing Silvercrest’s barricades yield.

None of it meant anything now.

"Where is Destiny?"

As if in answer, the door at the end of the side hallway opened and Destiny stepped into the foyer. She was drowned in an oversized wool sweater that hung loosely around her frame, her dark hair pulled back with loose strands framing her pale face.

She looked entirely emotionally exhausted.

When her eyes found Dane, her expression shattered for one brief second, raw relief breaking through before she swiftly buried it.

"Dane."

He crossed the room before his mind even processed the movement, taking the space between them in three long strides. Reaching out, he cupped her face in his hands and pulled her against him, pressing his forehead directly to hers.

"You’re alright."

"I’m fine."

"You’re alright?" he repeated, his heart hammering.

"I’m fine, Dane," she assured him, her hands coming up to wrap tightly around his wrists. "I’m fine."

Closing his eyes, Dane allowed himself a single moment to breathe, realizing only then how desperately he had needed to hear her voice. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, keeping one hand firm against the side of her neck as he murmured,

"I know. I know."

Destiny’s eyes welled with tears, though she blinked them back fiercely.

"They are dead because of me."

Opening his eyes, Dane nodded grimly.

"I know."

Keeping his arm anchored around her waist, he turned back toward his father.

"We suspect the intruders entered from across the river," Ramon said, rubbing a hand over his face. "They hit and left a message saying they’ll return if we don’t hand her over."

Dane went rigid. "They’re not touching her."

"I know."

"We don’t have to wait until they return. I’ll take some guys down there right now."

"And do what?" Ramon snapped, keeping his voice to a harsh whisper. "They killed four of our men and disappeared without a trace. They aren’t sitting around waiting for you, Dane. You go running into the dark, you’re just giving them easy targets."

Dane clenched his fists, the anger burning in his chest, but he couldn’t argue with that.

Sonia stepped forward, her face pale. "Standing here arguing isn’t changing anything. The aggrieved farmers expects us at dawn, and the funeral is at noon. Just go upstairs."

Ramon sighed, turning to Henrik. "Go to the lower shed. You might want to speak to your dad."

Henrik didn’t ask about what, he gave Dane a silent nod and slipped out the back.

Dane grabbed Destiny’s hand, her skin was cold and damp. He led her up to the room. The second the door clicked shut, he pulled her in tight. Destiny held onto him just as hard, her face buried in his chest.

"We can’t just sit here," Dane muttered, staring at the wall. "Four guys are dead. They think they can pull this shit and walk away."

Destiny pulled back, her eyes dark. "Hannah had a wild idea earlier."

Dane looked at her. "About what?"

"Using the stone as bait." She rubbed her forehead, trying to find the words. "Remember that guy with the horn? When he grabbed me, he said they weren’t tracking me. They track the stone itself. The energy or whatever it is."

"So?"

"So Hannah said we don’t even need to be there," Destiny said. "She thinks if we just drop the damn thing in the middle of the road, someone’s going to be stupid enough to come running for it. They won’t be able to help themselves."

Dane blinked, letting that sit for a second. "Just drop it out in the open."

"Yeah. Leave it somewhere like the quarry road and wait." Destiny looked up at him.

"Yeah." Dane ran a hand over his face, feeling the sheer weight of the night settling in. "I guess in a few hours then,we deal with the funeral. Stand with the bereved families. And then we would leave the damn stone at the cemetery." He caught her eye. "We settle this ."

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