Emma stared at the message on her screen. Mason’s words ripped through her, shredding the protective walls she had spent the day building after she had first messaged him. What the hell had happened? Not only could she not picture Mason in a bar fight, never once had she considered him a rebound. And the fact that he would think that—well. She was pissed. Not at him, but at herself. She broke up with him by text. Well, “broke up.” They weren’t technically dating.

With a groan, Emma pulled at the pony tail hanging over her shoulder. Jordan hadn’t messaged her back yet either. When he first messaged her about the fight, she immediately asked for details. To which he still hadn’t responded.

Freaking men.

She was sitting on the couch in the Elliot house, a stack of papers piled around her. Notes. Records. The Elliots weren’t great at keeping notes of meetings and clan goings on… probably because they were bears. But, Emma was doing her best to catch up. She needed to know what Cheryl had been doing during the last few months as alpha. Not that she had plans to follow in her mother’s footsteps, but she had to start somewhere. She should just be talking to Jordan, but he had gone MIA after the meeting. He had been holding down the fort while she was off gallivanting through meadows chasing butterflies.

Emma stared down at the message from Mason again. She wanted to respond. She had no idea what to say. How to make him understand. This was only temporary. She just had to get a hold on the clan stuff. Whatever that stuff was.

Someone knocked on the door.

Emma shot off the couch scattering everything in her lap to the floor. Mason. It had to be Mason. She flung the door open, apologies and explanations already formed on her lips.

Emma couldn’t stop the disappointment from cascading down her features. Jordan. At least he didn’t look like he had been part of the fight at the bar.

“You didn’t message me back.” She tried to keep her voice even, but it came out higher than it should have.

Jordan raised an eyebrow to the door, which Emma was blocking. She jerked back and stepped aside.

“I was on my way here. Figured it would be easier to talk.” He dropped down on one of the leather couches.

Emma didn’t sit. “What happened at the bar?”

Jordan actually chuckled. “A porcupine tried to take on three bears single handed.”

“He what?”

“Didn’t come out of it too bad, all things considered.”

“Details. Tell me everything. Is he okay?” Emma pulled the band out of her hair and resituated it for something to do with her hands. It was bad enough her voice was giving everything away.

“He managed to quill all three bears before I was able to break it up. I think he probably took a swipe to the hip or ankle. He was limping when we went outside.”

“Did you tell him to go to Snow? He needs to get it looked at.”

“Emma. Relax.” Jordan leaned forward onto his knees. “And would you please sit down?”

She didn’t want to sit down. She wanted to shift and run and break down Mason’s door.

“Sit down.”

Emma’s eyes shot up.

His voice resonated within her. Strong.

Mal jerked forward, teeth bared.

What the hell?

That had been his will. It hadn’t felt like Cheryl’s.

She was…free. According to Chuck…she could be free now if she wanted.

Jordan seemed to realize what had happened and heat rose in his cheeks. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Jordan?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t ask for this, you know. None of it.” When he looked up, his eyes glowed blue, bear spirit showing through.

Emma stumbled back. Shock. Disbelief. Since when was he an alpha?

Mal? How did we miss this?

It is new. We didn’t miss anything.

“When?”

“The first time I had to defend you to the clan after everything with Cheryl. Booker just…he was there. Stronger.” He had stopped looking at her again.

Emma’s thoughts couldn’t keep up. The first time he what? Jordan was an alpha?

“Jordan, I—” She didn’t know what. He hadn’t defended her yesterday. He had sat there while the clan berated her. Was this why? Because they had already started adapting to his alpha spirit.

Emma sat down next to him on the couch, taking his hands into hers. “I’m sorry. For not being here. For dragging you into all of this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything.”

She didn’t see it that way, but she let the comment slide. They had grown up together. He had been adopted into her family, by her mother.

“I wish things could have been different.”

Jordan’s eyes focused on their hands, wound together the way they had so many times in the past.

“Wishing isn’t going to change anything.” He rubbed a thumb along her wrist.

Emma stared at the movement. “What do they say? Don’t dwell on the past, right?” She shrugged.

“I do miss it.” He looked up. The glow in his eyes had dissipated, but she could still sense Booker near the surface. “The way we used to be.”

She exhaled an understanding laugh. “You mean when things weren’t so complicated?”

“Something like that.” Jordan’s turned Emma’s hands in his until they were palm up and then put his hands over hers, palms together. Just like they used to when they were being serious. No secrets.

What was he doing? Emma’s heart picked up pace, battering the inside of her ribcage in a mixture of dread and anxiety. “Jordan.”

“Just shut up for a minute, okay?”

She clenched her lips shut, the dread overpowering the anxiety.

“Now that I am…now that I could be an alpha, do you think—” He clenched his eyes shut and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again, they glowed. “Do you think maybe we have a chance?”

Emma begged Mal to help keep her face blank. No hint, one way or the other. He couldn’t be asking her that. Not now. Not after everything.

“Jordan.”

“I’m not done.” He gripped the edges of her palms with his fingers. “We love each other. We do.”

“As friends.” She couldn’t help herself, but Jordan didn’t even acknowledge the words.

“Before, when we were together, and we didn’t mate—I can’t help but wonder if this was why. Because Booker hadn’t come forward as an alpha. I mean, this changes things.”

Emma could feel Booker pulling on her, on Mal. He was stronger. And it was Booker, not Cheryl or her bear. But that didn’t mean anything to her. She closed that chapter of her life two years ago when they decided they weren’t mates. Jordan had agreed. Supported her. Played the game.

She’d never even considered that it had been more than a game to him. How could she have missed that? Things had never closed for him. Shit.

Emma knew that Jordan was not her mate. She had known for ages. She couldn’t do this.

“Jordan, listen to what you’re saying. You know it didn’t work before.” She tried to pull her hands away from him. She didn’t want to be in truth mode. She didn’t want to be having this conversation. This part of her life was supposed to be over.

“No, Em. You listen. You can’t be with a fucking porcupine. You’re alpha. A grizzly bear alpha. The clan is going to shred you to pieces if you try and pull that over on them.”

Emma’s brain was still repeating the word porcupine. Over and over again. Jordan didn’t want her to be with a porcupine. Jordan broke up the fight between Mason and the bears.

“Em, I love you, dammit.”

Emma jerked her hands out of Jordan’s. He had laid out more than enough truth for the time being.

“I can’t be with you either.” She stood up. “We—” Emma pointed back and forth between them. “Are not mates. We have never been mates. And we will never be mates.”

“You don’t know what you are saying.”

“Did you tell Mason that he was a rebound?”

Jordan blanched. “What?”

“Did you tell Mason that he’s a rebound?”

“I saved his sorry ass from getting mauled by three bears.”

“That is not what I asked you.” Her voice came out in a growl, Mal ready to pounce. She felt Booker rise to meet him.

Jordan buried his face in his hands, fur bristling along the back of his neck and over the curve of his shoulders. He clenched his fists into his hair and looked back up at Emma, eyes fierce.

“Maybe I did. Somebody had to. You are going to get yourself hurt. What can a porcupine give a grizzly bear?” His voice rose on each word, Booker deepening Jordan’s natural tenor.

Emma stood up, Mal matching Booker’s presence across her own skin. “I am not having this conversation with you, Jordan Baker.”

He shook his head, bear ears flattening against his blonde hair. “You are making a mistake.”

“Just the opposite, I think.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Emma picked up her phone off the arm of the couch and slipped it into her back pocket. “It means I should be thanking you.”

Jordan relaxed visibly.

Glancing around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, Emma move to the door. Jordan stood, taking a step toward her, hand out.

“Yes. Thank you, Jordan, for making everything so perfectly clear. I have things to do. Don’t call me.”

Jordan’s hand fell, and he clenched his jaw. “Em, don’t walk out that door.”

“Stop me. I dare you.” She let Mal vocalize the challenge as she raised an eyebrow at Jordan. He chewed on his lower lip, and for a second, she thought he was actually considering it. But he didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. Emma turned her back on him and walked out the door.

Mal?

Yes.

Can you do something for me?

He didn’t answer right away, attention on Jordan, who had moved to the doorway to watch them go. Emma opened the driver door of her car and tossed her keys onto the seat. Then, she undressed, holding her phone in her teeth as she did.

Naked, she nudged Mal.

Yes.

I need you to carry my phone.

I am not a pack horse.

Please. Emma closed the car door and walked to the edge of the woods. She could still feel Jordan watching her.

Where are we going?

To Mason’s.

Mal grumbled.

His porcupine isn’t that bad. Get over it.

Are you sure this is what you want?

Emma frowned, ducking under a low-hanging branch. There was only one way to find out. Yes.

Are you going to make me carry things every time?

Rolling her eyes, Emma dropped the phone onto a bed of pine needles. No. I promise.

Mal growled his assent and roared forward.