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After My Mate Kissed Her at the Bonfire Novel Cover

After My Mate Kissed Her at the Bonfire

Amid the woodsmoke and music of the Silverfang Pack's annual Come of Age Ceremony, a young woman anticipates a night of celebration. For two years, she has felt the comforting, warm presence of her fated mate, Justin, through their unshakeable bond. However, a devastating betrayal at the bonfire shatters her world completely, forcing her to question everything she believed about their shared destiny and her own survival.
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Chapter 3

The announcement came during morning training. A transfer from Ironwood Pack. Routine. It happened a few times a year—wolves moving between allied territories for work, education, or family reasons. Nobody paid much attention when Declan read the name off the roster.

"Magnus Graham. Nineteen. Sophomore. Ironwood lineage. He'll be joining us starting today."

I was stretching near the sparring rings when he arrived.

I didn't see him at first. Just heard the low murmur of introductions as Declan walked him through the training grounds. A few wolves glanced over. Curious but not particularly interested. Transfers usually kept to themselves for the first few weeks.

Then the wind shifted.

Cedar and dark honey.

The scent hit me like a fist to the chest. My wolf—silent since the severance, a quiet presence I'd learned to live with—surged upright so fast I almost stumbled. Every nerve in my body went taut. My lungs forgot how to work.

*Mate.*

The word exploded through my mind in my wolf's voice. Not a question. Not a suggestion. A certainty.

No.

I straightened slowly, forcing air into my lungs. My hands were shaking. I shoved them into my pockets and turned away from the group, walking toward the tree line with measured steps that felt like they belonged to someone else's body.

Behind me, Declan's voice continued the introductions. I didn't look back. Couldn't. If I looked back and saw him—whoever he was—I didn't trust what my wolf would do.

I made it to the edge of the forest before I had to stop. My chest was too tight. The cedar-and-dark-honey scent clung to the inside of my nose like it had been painted there. My wolf was pacing, restless and insistent, pressing against my ribs.

*Go back. Find him. Ours.*

"No," I whispered out loud.

I'd sworn. After Justin, after the severance, after everything—I'd sworn I would never let another bond rewrite me. I didn't care what the Moon Goddess thought she was doing. I didn't care if my wolf recognized him. I was done.

I stayed at the tree line until the scent faded. Until my hands stopped shaking. Until I could breathe without feeling like something was wrapped around my throat.

Then I went back to my quarters and didn't come out for the rest of the day.

---

Buster knew something was wrong.

He followed me from the couch to the kitchen to the bedroom and back, his anxious brown eyes tracking every movement. When I finally sat down on the floor with my back against the wall, he crawled into my lap and pressed his nose against my neck.

I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes.

Cedar and dark honey. The scent was still there, faint but unmistakable, like it had soaked into my skin. My wolf whined softly in the back of my mind.

"I can't," I told her. Told myself. "I can't do this again."

She didn't answer. Just kept pacing.

I didn't tell Soleil. Didn't tell anyone. When she came home that evening and found me on the floor with Buster, she raised an eyebrow but didn't push.

"Rough day?" she asked.

"Something like that."

She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she came back with two mugs of tea and sat down beside me. We drank in silence. Buster's tail thumped softly against my leg.

I didn't sleep that night. Just lay in bed with the window open, staring at the ceiling, while my wolf pressed restlessly against the inside of my chest and the scent of cedar and dark honey haunted every breath I took.

---

Two days later, Magnus Graham showed up at our door with a casserole dish.

I was in the kitchen when Soleil answered the knock. I heard her voice—bright, curious—and then footsteps. When I turned around, she was standing in the doorway with a slightly sheepish-looking wolf behind her.

Cedar and dark honey slammed into me all over again.

He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair that fell across his forehead. Warm brown eyes that found mine and held. And that scent—Moon Goddess, that scent—it wrapped around me like a living thing.

My wolf went absolutely still. Then she started howling.

"Avery," Soleil said, grinning. "This is Magnus. The transfer from Ironwood. He made lasagna and apparently made way too much."

Magnus smiled. It was a little crooked. A little self-deprecating. "I'm still getting used to cooking for one," he said. His voice was warm. Steady. "Thought I'd share. Hope that's okay."

I stared at him.

Soleil, bless her, didn't notice. She took the dish from his hands and carried it to the counter. "Are you kidding? This smells amazing. Avery, doesn't this smell amazing?"

"Yeah," I managed. My voice sounded distant. "Amazing."

Magnus's gaze hadn't left mine. There was something in his expression—something quiet and patient and far too knowing for a wolf who'd just arrived.

"Well, come in," Soleil said, already pulling plates from the cabinet. "You can't just drop off food and leave. That's against house rules."

Magnus stepped inside. The space between us felt electric. My wolf was vibrating beneath my skin, torn between lunging forward and running in the opposite direction.

I forced myself to move. To breathe. To act like a normal wolf meeting a normal transfer.

"Thanks," I said quietly. "For the food."

His smile widened just slightly. "Anytime."

Soleil served the lasagna. It was perfect. Rich and layered and exactly the way I liked it—which should have been a coincidence but felt like something else entirely.

Magnus sat across from me at the small table. He asked Soleil about her training schedule. Laughed at her stories. Answered her questions about Ironwood with easy warmth. And every few minutes, his gaze would drift back to mine, steady and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

My wolf pressed against my ribs. *Ours.*

I looked away.

When he finally left—with Soleil's enthusiastic invitation to come back anytime—I stood in the kitchen and gripped the edge of the counter until my knuckles went white.

Soleil appeared beside me, eyes bright. "He's nice," she said. "And that lasagna? Incredible. We're keeping him."

I didn't answer.

Because I could still smell cedar and dark honey in the air. Could still feel the weight of his gaze on my skin. Could still hear my wolf's insistent, undeniable claim.

*Mate.*

And I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do about it.

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