Honestly, I didn’t mean to react like that.
Storming outside like a possessive brute just because she was hugging someone? Ronan, no less—a guy who clearly knows her better than I do. I could see the way they laughed, how easily they leaned into each other like they’d done it a hundred times before.
Seeing his hand on her waist had felt like a punch straight to the chest.
All I thought was mine.
And what the hell was that about?
I shut the bedroom door behind me a little too hard. The walls here are thin—real, lived-in wood, not the soundproof concrete of my penthouse. Everything creaks like it has a memory. Like it’s watching.
I drag a hand through my hair and sit on the edge of the bed. It dips under my weight. I stare at the floorboards.
We don’t refer to people like that. Especially not women. Especially not ones I barely know and who allegedly... bit me?
I let out a sharp breath. This is insane. She’s insane. Everyone here is insane. And the worst part is—I might be too.
Because maybe I am a wolf.
God, I don’t want to admit it, but... things don’t feel the same anymore. It’s not just her. It’s everything. I hear things sharper now. My body feels like it’s always waiting for something, always alert.
I rub the back of my neck, the skin there hot, tense. Her scent lingers in this house—lavender, cedar, and something I can’t name. It crawls under my skin, into my lungs. It makes it hard to sleep. Or think. Or breathe.
This bond she keeps talking about—it’s messing with my head. With my body.
I keep remembering flashes of that night. Not memories, exactly. More like sensations. Warmth. Skin. The wild pounding of my own heartbeat. Her gray eyes looking up at me with something close to wonder.
I shake the image away, but it clings.
I hear footsteps creaking across the hallway. Probably her. She moves softer than anyone I’ve ever known, but I still know it’s her. I always know when she’s near.
I grab my phone out of habit. No signal. No surprise. We’re in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, wolves, and whatever the hell else lives out here. There’s Wi-Fi, at least, but not enough to do anything meaningful besides stare at a loading bar.
I stand and cross to the window, pulling the curtain back with two fingers.
She’s outside again. Alone this time. Sitting on the porch swing, arms wrapped around herself like she’s holding something in. Her hair’s down, and it glows silver in the moonlight. The sky behind her is dark and clear, scattered with stars.
And I can’t stop looking at her.
No matter how angry I get, how confused I feel—my eyes always find her.
What did she say again?
That I came to her in wolf form. That I chose her. That she’s my mate.
God. The word makes my chest ache.
I don’t believe in fate. I never have. But standing here, watching her... I’m starting to question everything I thought I knew.
I don’t know what to do with that.
So I do the only thing I can think of.
The cold air hits me like a splash of reality. Crisp, biting, full of pine. The grass is wet beneath my bare feet—yeah, I forgot shoes. Who cares.
She doesn’t hear me at first. She’s looking up at the stars, face soft, eyes full of something too deep for me to name. She looks peaceful.
And I ruin it by clearing my throat.
She startles slightly, then looks at me. Blinks. Smiles, like she wasn’t expecting me but had been hoping.
I hate how it warms something in me.
"Mind if I sit?" I ask, voice low.
She shakes her head and scoots over without a word.
We sit in silence for a while. The swing creaks gently beneath us, swaying just a little. Her thigh brushes mine and it’s all I can do not to react.
"Sorry about earlier," I mutter.
Her head tilts. "For what?"
"For... being a dick."
She huffs a laugh, then nods. "Accepted."
Another stretch of silence. Crickets chirp in the background. Somewhere far off, a wolf howls.
"Can I ask you something?" I say after a moment.
She turns to me then, fully. Her eyes are soft but serious. "I didn’t choose it, Cam. The bond did. Our wolves did. But even if they hadn’t..." She pauses, breathes. "I think I would’ve fallen for you anyway."
I look away, but not before I catch the hurt in her expression.
"I’m trying," I say. "I just... I need time."
"I know." Her voice is barely a whisper.
We sit there until the stars blur and the night grows colder. And I don’t reach for her hand. But I don’t move away when she brushes against me either.
Maybe that’s something.