Page 11 of Talk Howly to Me

"Well," Ronan began, his voice carrying its usual steady authority despite the circumstances. He took a measured sip of his whiskey before continuing. "Obviously you know that Sloane is my fated mate."

Kozue felt his wolf surge at the mention of her name, a possessive growl rumbling low in his chest before he could suppress it. He met Ronan's gaze directly, seeing his own territorial instincts reflected in his Alpha's blue eyes.

"And obviously you know that Sloane is my fated mate," Kozue replied, his voice rougher than intended.

Ronan nodded slowly, his expression grim. The firelight played across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the tension bracketing his mouth. "Well, this feels impossible. Fate handing us a triad mate bond and asking us to figure it out."

Impossible.

The word echoed in Kozue's mind, but underneath his shock, something else was taking root. A certainty that felt as fundamental as breathing, as natural as the bond that had made them brothers in everything but blood.

"It does seem pretty impossible," Kozue agreed, swirling the whiskey in his glass as he gathered his thoughts. "But I know what I need to do."

Ronan's entire body went still, his glass frozen halfway to his lips. "What is that?"

The words came easier than Kozue had expected, driven by twenty-seven years of putting the people he loved before himself. "I have to give her up and let you claim her. Let you two have what fate wanted for you."

"No." The word exploded from Ronan with startling vehemence, his Alpha authority bleeding through despite his obvious attempt at control. He set his glass down with enough force to make the liquid slosh dangerously close to the rim. "Kozue, you are not sacrificing your mate for me."

The fierce protectiveness in Ronan's voice sent an unexpected warmth through Kozue's chest. Even now, facing the most complicated situation either of them had ever encountered, his Alpha's first instinct was to protect him. It was exactly the response he should have expected, and exactly what made this decision so difficult.

"Yes, I am," Kozue insisted, leaning forward in his chair. "There is no other way to go about this. You're the Alpha. The pack needs you focused, not torn between⁠—"

"Yes, there is." Ronan's interruption was sharp and decisive. "We let her decide who she wants."

Kozue considered that option, rolling it around in his mind like a puzzle piece that almost fit but not quite. It had merit—Sloane certainly deserved agency in determining her own fate. But something about the suggestion felt incomplete, like they were still trying to force a traditional solution onto an extraordinary situation.

"What if we just see how this triad mate bond unfolds naturally?" The words tumbled out before Kozue could second-guess them. "Neither of us trying to force it or control it. And yes, I agree with giving Sloane complete agency in this situation. Let her decide how she wants this to work, or if it's even going to work."

Ronan's shoulders relaxed slightly, the rigid tension easing as he reached for his glass again. "That seems like the best plan right now."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the soft clink of crystal as they both took thoughtful sips of their whiskey. The alcohol burned warm down Kozue's throat, grounding him in the present moment even as his mind raced with possibilities and concerns.

"But we still don't know what brought her here," Ronan said eventually, his tactical mind already shifting toward the practical concerns. "What kind of trouble she's in."

Kozue nodded, remembering the exhaustion in Sloane's hazel eyes and the way she'd carried herself like someone expecting the next blow to fall. "Yes, we don't know. But she admitted she had a pretty crazy night, and she looked really exhausted yet scared about something."

"Well then," Ronan said, his voice taking on the decisive tone that had guided their pack through countless challenges, "we just need to put this mate bond stuff on pause and make her feel as comfortable and safe as she can be here. Don't push her, don't pressure her, just let her settle in. Then maybe we can revisit the mate thing later."

The plan made perfect sense, even if every instinct in Kozue's body screamed against the idea of keeping his distance from his mate. But Sloane's wellbeing had to come first—she'd been through something traumatic tonight, and the last thing she needed was two strange men overwhelming her with supernatural complications she couldn't possibly understand yet.

"That sounds like the best way to go about this right now," Kozue agreed, extending his hand across the space between their chairs. "Let's make a deal to work together to make Sloane feel comfortable here and to keep her safe."

Ronan's hand engulfed his in a firm grip, the familiar gesture carrying new weight tonight. "Deal."

They held the handshake for a moment longer than necessary, both men drawing strength from the physical connection and the renewed commitment to their partnership. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together—just as they always had.

"And tomorrow," Ronan continued as they released hands, "I'm going to offer Sloane a job to be our personal assistant. Gerri said she's not the type to accept a handout, and this way Sloane can naturally start feeling like she's part of this place."

Kozue felt a genuine smile tug at his lips for the first time since this entire surreal evening had begun. "That's actually a brilliant idea."

The position would give Sloane purpose and independence while allowing both of them to spend time with her without raising suspicions. It was exactly the kind of thoughtful solution that reminded Kozue why Ronan made such an exceptional leader.

Standing from his chair, Kozue drained the last of his whiskey and set the empty glass on the side table. The late hour was catching up with him and tomorrow would bring new challenges that would require all of his emotional and mental resources.

"Well then, see you tomorrow at breakfast."

Ronan rose as well, moving with his characteristic controlled grace despite the obvious turmoil still simmering beneath the surface. He looked like he wanted to say something more—perhaps offer reassurance, or voice one of the dozen concerns undoubtedly racing through his tactical mind—but finally settled on, "Good night, Kozue."