The Omni-Wolf’s Choice novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82 A little chat…

Bridget’s POV

Iron Fang and I head out toward the labyrinth. Wisteria drapes the entrance like a

curtain, its bright purple popping against hedges so dark and tall they feel like they’re

trying to touch the clouds.

“All right, Iron Fang. Let’s hear what the King’s sorcerer is so desperate to say.”

A low grunt is all I get.

I step into the maze anyway. “You know, you could always actually talk and tell me this

is stupid.” I say it like a joke, because it is. He’s not going to answer-not for me.

Probably not for anyone except Ryder.

This time, he doesn’t even give me the courtesy of a sound.

The path is familiar now. I’ve learned the pattern of turns by heart. Another left, another narrow corridor of green, and then the open contor where the bench sits.

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Lysander is waiting behind.

He looks composed-too composed-for someone who claimed he had something

urgent. Life-or-death urgent.

“Luna Bridget. I appreciate you coming.”

“I found your note,” I say, stopping short. “And I’ll admit, your ‘we need to talk’ routine is

bizarrely intriguing. So-talk.”

His gaze flicks past me, like he’s counting seconds. “I have served the King and Queen

for years. Their intentions were always clear. They trusted me completely.” His jaw

tightens. “Until you came to the castle. Now everything is… unraveling.”

My stomach knots. “Unraveling how? What do they want from me?”

I take a cautious step forward. Iron Fang’s arm shoots out across my chest, a silent

barrier reminding me not to close the distance.

“I don’t have much time before they contact me again,” Lysander says, voice low. “I can’t

even tell if it’s one of them or both. But your abilities are discussed every day there-

every day.”

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He draws a breath like it hurts. “They want power they can control. They cannot tolerate

anyone stronger than them. I overheard them before I left-preparing their quarters for the coronation. They have been using dark magic for some time, waiting for you. Now that you have proven you’re real, they will do whatever it takes to get their hands on

you.”

My pulse kicks hard. “How?”

I try to move closer again, but Iron Fang shifts to stand more squarely between us. His

stare pins me in place.

I need the details. I need something I can stop before it reaches my pack-before it

reaches my family. I can’t lose them the way I lost my parents. What I have left of them

is barely anything: a passing scent, a sudden flash, then emptiness again. I won’t survive

it twice.

Lysander’s expression turns sour. “I don’t know. They don’t share anything with me

anymore. Not since you became their newest… fixation. Their conquest.”

“Then why warn me at all?” I snap. “Wouldn’t it be easier to help them?”

He lifts his chin. “I may be many things, Luna, but I will not be part of the downfall-or

the capture-of the Omni-Wolf.”

“Bridget! Where are you!”

Ryder’s voice crashes through the hedges as he enters the labyrinth.

I swing my head toward Iron Fang. Of course he told him. Of course.

“I have to go,” I tell Lysander, already turning.

His hand clamps around my arm.

Iron Fang’s growl is immediate-deep and vicious-as he reaches for Lysander’s wrist.

“Luna,” Lysander breathes, suddenly frantic. “You need to hear-”

He yanks me backward.

His palm slaps over my mouth.

A portal rips open behind us, and with it comes the sound of classical music-elegant, impossible, like it belongs in a ballroom instead of a maze.

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Iron Fang is beside me in an instant.

His claws extend.

One clean, brutal motion-Lysander’s arms are severed at the forearms.

He howls. Blood splatters hot across my skin and clothes.

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Ryder appears like a shadow turning solid. In one swift strike, he takes Lysander’s head.

It hits the hedge and disappears into green as Lysander’s body collapses at our feet.

I stumble straight into Ryder. He catches me and locks me against his chest, holding

tight like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.

“Iron Fang,” Ryder says, voice clipped but sincere, “good work. Thank you.”

I look at Iron Fang and nod hard, shaping the words without sound. Thank you.

He returns a single nod, then moves with the other warriors to handle what’s left.

The portal has already sealed shut.

And I’m standing here drenched in blood with nothing but questions rattling my skull.

Was Lysander warning me-or delivering me? Did he try to drag me through that portal for the King and Queen… or for himself?

Ryder turns me gently. “Come on. Inside. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

We walk back without speaking. His arm stays around my shoulders, steady and firm,

like a shield I can lean on.

In our room, he starts the shower and brings me with him. He undresses me carefully,

then strips off his own clothes as the water hits, tugging fabric free where it clings to his

skin.

He works like he’s trying to erase the scene-washing my hair, lifting my chin to wipe my

face with a cloth, tracing the places the blood has dried.

I stare up at him, thoughts tangling.

“Are you… mad?” I ask. “You haven’t yelled. Nothing.”

“I am,” he says, still not meeting my eyes. “I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m a lot of things.”

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“Then say it,” I push, voice cracking. “I need you to. I need you to yell at me. Quiet Ryder

is worse than furious Ryder.”

He finally looks at me, expression flat with restraint. “I don’t need to raise my voice to

make this clear. You should not have met him. Now he’s dead. That’s it.”

“Ryder-damn it,” I shout, the panic and the adrenaline spilling over. “I need you to be

mad. I can’t handle this right now. Please.”

“What do you want me to say that you haven’t already heard?”

“Just be angry,” I beg. “Let it out. Please!”

He inhales sharply. “You want me to yell?”

“Yes, Ryder!”

His control snaps.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he roars. “Do you not understand people are trying to hurt you? That we’re doing everything we can to keep you safe-and then the first note you receive, you’re off wandering through hedges to meet whoever asked?”

His eyes scan me, hands checking my arm where Lysander grabbed, searching for marks.

I swallow. “Go on…”

“There wasn’t even anything to ‘go on,’ Bridget,” he bites out. “He opened a damn portal and tried to take you. Tried to rip you away from me. Do you have any idea what that

would do to Talon and me?”

The moment the words land, I crumble.

It’s not one thing. It’s everything-his fear, my exhaustion, the constant threat hovering over my life like a blade. I’m tired of being the prize someone thinks they can claim. So I

cry, because it’s the only thing I’ve got left.

Ryder’s shoulders drop. He lets out a long breath, like he hates himself for every

syllable.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, pulling me in. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

He shuts off the water. My tears don’t stop.

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He wraps me in a towel and lifts me as if my feet shouldn’t have to touch the floor. In

bed, he climbs in beside me and holds me, solid and warm, his arms making a world

small enough to breathe in.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into his chest. “That was not a smart choice. I really thought I was

figuring this life out.”

“I’m sorry too,” he says, voice rough. “Even thinking about losing you-Bridget, it breaks

1. The idea of something happening to you…”

I pull back just enough to look at him. “I promise I’ll come back to you. No matter what.

Okay?”

A faint chuckle rumbles out of him as he tightens his hold. “Or,” he says, “we plan for it

to never happen.”

He nudges his forehead to mine. “Let’s have dinner sent up. Stay right here tonight. Just

us.”

Relief loosens my chest. “I’d love that.”

We order prime rib, mashed potatoes, brussels sprouts, and wine, and it’s delivered to our suite. I throw on one of Ryder’s T-shirts so he can answer the door-because he’s

protective to his bones.

And I love that he cares.

After we eat, we binge the new season of Harlem. Yes-my terrifying, big bad Alpha is watching a chick flick with me. He idly twists a curl around his finger while the episodes

roll, the motion slow and soothing.

His touch feels like music.

Before I realize I’m slipping, sleep takes me-right there in his arms.

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