**Austin POV**
Damn, my mate may be a bit apprehensive about the nature of our relationship, but when it comes to defending it—and me—she is nothing short of fearless. The way she staked her claim tonight was undeniably sexy. She made it clear with her words that I was hers, and she wouldn’t allow another she-wolf to come near me. Not that I would ever even consider another woman; Rebel is simply perfect in every way.
I had to stifle a laugh when she declared that Ceraline’s services were no longer needed. I’ll definitely need to clarify to Rebel that I never sought out Ceraline’s services in the first place. In fact, I’m pretty sure there was nothing I wanted from her anyway. Renz, however, didn’t hold back his laughter, which made it even harder for me to maintain my composure. As I held my mate close, I felt a wave of satisfaction wash over me when she leaned back against my chest. Her softness, even through her shirt, was intoxicating. I don’t know what Ceraline has been saying about Rebel being overweight, but to me, she is beautifully thick in all the right places, and I can’t wait to explore every inch of my mate’s body.
Yet, there’s something enigmatic about her. As Renz and I walked back, we found ourselves pondering the same questions. Rebel is only 23, yet she just met her first mate a couple of months ago. This is quite unusual for both of us. Most wolves celebrate their 18th birthday with a grand party, and the Alpha usually attends, especially since Rebel is the daughter of the former beta. If that were the case, she should have known Cullen was her mate five years ago. Either she lied about Cullen or she simply didn’t celebrate her 18th birthday. But nothing about her suggests deceit, so I lean towards the latter. But why wouldn’t her father, a former beta, celebrate his own daughter? He didn’t even train her at the training facility; he chose to train her privately. It makes me wonder just how well he trained her, and that seems odd to me too.
Then there’s the shocking fact that she never visited the pack house at Ironclaw. How is it possible that she spent 23 years there without once stepping foot in her own pack’s home? What about special occasions or events? Did she avoid those as well? It seems she doesn’t even grasp the structure of the pack house, which is concerning.
“Renz, tomorrow we need to dig deeper into Rebel’s history and her role within Ironclaw. Something isn’t adding up,” I mind-link him as I take Rebel’s hand, guiding her toward my floor. “Yes Alpha. I agree. We also need to have a much more in-depth conversation with her,” he replies.
“I’ll talk to her in the morning. For now, it’s late, and we should get some rest,” I respond. “Are you at least going to have her accept you as her Alpha tonight?” he asks, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Yeah, I want to establish a connection with her in case she isn’t ready for my mark,” I answer. I close the link and turn my full attention back to my beautiful mate.
“Do you understand how pack houses are structured, Rebel?” I inquire as we ascend the stairs.
She looks down, clearly embarrassed. “Um, not really.” It’s evident she feels uncomfortable, and it frustrates me that I don’t know her background well enough to help her through this. But I push those thoughts aside; I’ll get to the bottom of it tomorrow.
“Alright, let me give you a general overview of a pack house. The size can vary from pack to pack, but generally, it serves as the main hub for any pack. The first floor is commonly the gathering area where everyone meets during meal times. Special events or important meetings usually take place there as well. The second floor is designated for guests and unmated omegas who work in the pack house. The third floor is reserved for my gamma, Jessup, and his mate, along with any family members, like pups. The fourth floor belongs to Beta Renz and is set up similarly. And the fifth floor? That’s ours,” I say, watching her closely as I mention the last part. She seems to absorb the information without feeling overwhelmed.
A blush creeps across her cheeks, and I realize she’s just grasped what having our room on the fifth floor means. She’s brave enough to confront an unknown threat, yet shy around me. It’s heartwarming to know that I will be the one to provide her with all the good experiences in her life. I can’t help but smirk inwardly when I see her take a deep breath and lift her chin, though her confidence seems fragile. “So our room is on the fifth floor?”
I smile gently, wondering how difficult that question was for her to ask. “Yes, darling. Now, it’s late, and I’m sure you’re tired. Let’s head up.” I take her hand and lead the way.


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