Lena's wrist throbbed, blood seeping through her fingers as she pressed it against her chest, Kael's words—your blood, hanging heavy in the frostbitten clearing. Blackwood Forest's dawn was a cold witness, the bodies of Zane's wolves strewn across the ground, Vren's blood still staining her hands from the knife she'd wielded. Kael stood before her, his gold-flecked eyes wide with something new—fear, not for himself but for her, his wolf clawing at the scent of her blood. It wasn't human, wasn't wolf, but ancient, like the pendant's hum, the voice calling her name. Her heart raced, tear and love tangling as the mate bond pulsed, tying her to him despite the chaos.
"Kael," she whispered, voice shaky, stepping back from Torin's limp form, where Kael's claws had left him bleeding but alive. Zane and Rhea had vanished into the trees, their retreat a temporary reprieve, but the clearing felt like a trap, the air thick with her blood's strange scent. She met Kael's gaze, his face bloodied, jacket torn, yet his presence-six-foot-five, all sharp edges and wild strength felt like home, and it terrified her how much she needed it.
He moved, fast but gentle, catching her before she could stumble, his hands framing her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "Lena," he said, voice rough, low, laced with a tenderness that made her breath catch. "You're hurt. Let me see." His touch was fire, sparking through her, the bond humming with desperate warmth.
She didn't pull away, couldn't, her body leaning into his despite the panic screaming she wasn't human, wasn't safe.
"It's nothing," she lied, her voice soft, trembling, but she let him lift her wrist, his fingers careful as he inspected the shallow claw marks. His breath hitched, nostrils flaring again at her blood, ozone, wild, wrong, and his wolf whined, torn between pride in her fight and dread of what she might be. Her hazel eyes searched his, pleading for answers he didn't have, but all she saw was him scarred, fierce, hers in a way that went beyond fate.
"It's not nothing," he murmured, his voice dropping, raw with emotion. He tore a strip from his shirt, wrapping her wrist with steady hands, but his eyes never left hers, gold sparking with something deeper than duty.
"Lena, I... I can't do this anymore." His words broke, and he stepped closer, their bodies brushing, his heat chasing the dawn's chill.
"It's not just the bond. It's you."
Her heart stuttered, the world narrowing to him, his pine-and-leather scent, his calloused hands sliding to her waist, pulling her flush against him. "Kael," she breathed, hands fisting his jacket, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. The bond sang, hot and heavy, but his words cut deeper, a confession that felt human, not wolf. "What are you saying?"
"I'm falling for you," he said, voice low, fierce, like a vow carved in stone. "Not because fate says you're mine, but because you're you. Your fire, your fight, the way you look at me like I'm more than an alpha, more than a monster." His lips brushed her forehead, soft, trembling, and she gasped, the touch igniting her skin. "Every time you defy me, every time you bleed, it tears me apart, but it makes me love you more.
I'm in too deep, Lena, and I don't want out." Her breath caught, tears pricking as his words sank in, unraveling her walls. She'd fought the bond, fought him, clinging to her human life, but his love—raw, chosen, not forced, cracked something open. "Kael," she whispered, her hands sliding up his chest, feeling his heartbeat, wild and steady. "I'm scared. Of this, of me, of... everything." Her fingers traced his jaw, the faint scar, and he leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering shut like it was salvation.
"I know," he said, voice thick, his hands tightening on her hips, grounding her. "But you're not alone. I'd die for you, Lena, but I want to live for you every day, every fight." He dipped his head, lips hovering over hers, their breaths mingling, warm in the cold. "Let me love you. Not fate. Me."
She didn't answer with words. Her lips crashed into his, fierce, hungry, pouring her fear, her need, her unspoken love into the kiss. He growled, low and primal, kissing her back with a desperation that stole her breath, his hands roaming her back, pulling her closer until no space remained. The bond exploded, a wildfire of heat and heart, but this was more-his tongue tracing hers, her fingers tangling in his black hair, their bodies pressed tight like they could merge into one. She tasted blood, sweat, him, and it wasn't enough, would never be enough.
He lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist, and backed her against the truck, the metal cold against her spine but his body a furnace. "Lena," he groaned against her lips, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth down her neck, careful of the mark, his teeth grazing just enough to spark shivers. Her hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging in, and she arched into him, lost in the feel of him-solid, real, hers.
"I'm not ready to say it," she gasped, her voice raw as his lips found her collarbone, his hands sliding under her hoodie, warm against her skin. "But I feel it, Kael. I... I need you." It was the closest she could come, and his growl softened, his eyes meeting hers, gold and endless, seeing her truth.
"That's enough," he whispered, kissing her again, slower, deeper, like he was memorizing her. "You're enough." His hands cradled her face, their foreheads pressed together, breaths syncing, the world fading—Zane, Rhea, the pendant, her blood, all drowned by their love, a fragile shield against the storm.
She softened against him, her walls crumbling, her fingers tracing his lips, his scars, learning him. "Don't let go," she murmured, half-plea, half-promise, and he smiled, rare and real, stealing her heart all over again.
"Never," he said, voice rough with devotion, his arms tightening like he'd fight fate itself to keep her. They stayed there, tangled, hearts pounding, stealing seconds of peace in the blood-soaked clearing, their touches a language of trust, of love beyond bonds.
But the forest didn't care. A howl, low, guttural, not Zane's-pierced the dawn, answered by another, then a third, distant but closing fast. Kael tensed, his wolf surging, claws flexing as he set Lena down, keeping close, his eyes scanning the trees. The howls weren't Silverfang, weren't Thornclaw, but carried intent, reinforcements, drawn by her blood, her power, or maybe the pendant's call.
"Lena," he said, voice tight, gold eyes flicking to her, love warring with fear. "They're coming."