Chapter Four: Too Close
727 Words
Freya tried to pretend the pull was temporary.
She told herself it was adrenaline. Emotional shock. Residual humiliation clinging to her skin after last night. Anything but what Zev had named it.
But the ache followed her home.
She showered longer than necessary, letting hot water pound against her shoulders until her skin flushed pink. It did nothing to quiet the awareness humming beneath her ribs. Every breath felt unfinished. Every thought drifted back to him without permission.
When she finally stepped out, towel wrapped tightly around her, her phone buzzed again.
Zev.
She stared at the screen for a long moment before answering.
What, she said.
I am outside.
Her heart jumped violently. Outside where.
Your building.
She moved to the window, pulse racing. Down on the street, partially obscured by falling snow, stood a familiar tall figure in a dark coat. He did not look up. He simply waited.
You cannot keep doing this, she said.
I am not here to pressure you.
Then why are you here.
Because the bond is destabilizing you. You have not eaten. You have not rested. Your pulse has been elevated for hours.
She swallowed. How would you know that.
I can feel it.
Her grip tightened on the phone. That should not be possible.
No, he agreed quietly. But it is.
She closed her eyes. This was not romantic. This was invasive. And yet, beneath the fear, relief bloomed at the thought of seeing him again.
You are not coming inside, she said.
I know.
She exhaled shakily. Give me five minutes.
She dressed quickly, pulling on jeans and a thick sweater. When she stepped outside, cold air sliced through her lungs. Zev turned immediately, attention locking onto her like a physical thing.
You look exhausted, he said.
You look annoyingly fine.
A faint smile touched his mouth. That is misleading.
They stood there in awkward silence. Snow crunched under passing footsteps. A couple laughed nearby, arms linked.
What do you want, she asked.
To make you an offer.
She raised an eyebrow. I am not in the mood for contracts.
He held her gaze steadily. Stay near me for the next few days.
Her breath caught. No.
Hear me out.
She crossed her arms. You already said distance makes it worse.
Yes. Which is why this is temporary. I am leaving the city tomorrow for work. A conference in Lyon. Three days.
She stiffened. You want me to go with you.
I want you to be comfortable. Safe. In control.
Her laugh was sharp. You are asking me to run away with a stranger who claims to be a wolf.
I am asking you to share space. Public space. Separate rooms. Clear boundaries.
She studied him. His posture remained open. No pressure. No assumption.
Why Lyon, she asked.
It is neutral territory. And far enough that your ex cannot find you.
That hit closer than she expected.
I will not touch you without permission, he continued. I will not claim you. I will not push you. But if the bond escalates, you will not be alone with it.
Her pulse thudded. You planned this.
I prepared for possibilities.
She turned away, staring at the snow dusting the sidewalk. Her instincts screamed caution. Her body screamed something else entirely.
If I say no.
I walk away. I will manage the bond alone.
She looked back at him sharply. That would hurt you.
Yes.
The honesty in his voice unraveled something in her chest.
You would do that.
If it meant protecting your choice, yes.
Silence stretched between them again. Freya felt the pull tightening, like a thread drawn too far.
Three days, she said finally.
His shoulders eased subtly. Three days.
Separate rooms, she added.
Of course.
No explaining this to anyone.
Agreed.
She hesitated. And no calling me yours.
His gaze softened. Only if you ask.
That sent heat spiraling through her despite herself.
She exhaled. Fine.
Zev nodded once. I will arrange everything.
She turned to go, then paused. This does not mean I believe you.
His voice followed her gently. It means you are listening.
She went inside without looking back, heart pounding, aware that she had just stepped into something she could not yet name.
Across the street, Zev let out a slow breath.
The bond hummed, satisfied for now.
Winter was closing in.
- Writer
