I Didn’t Know He Wasn’t Human

Chapter Eight: What the Bond Wants

Freya felt it before he touched her.

The air thickened, warm and electric, pressing against her skin until every breath felt heavy. Zev stood close enough now that she could feel the heat of him through her clothes, steady and controlled, a contrast to the way her body betrayed her.

She lifted her chin. You are staring.

Because you are asking me to cross a line, he replied quietly.

Her heart hammered. I asked you to move. Not to claim me.

His hand rose slowly, deliberately, stopping just short of her waist. I know the difference.

That restraint should have comforted her. Instead, it made her ache.

Say stop and I will, he murmured.

She swallowed. Do not make this harder than it already is.

A faint smile curved his mouth. You have never wanted easy.

His fingers finally brushed her side. The contact was light, almost reverent, yet it sent a wave of heat through her that made her gasp. Her eyes fluttered closed against her will.

There it is, he said softly. The bond responding.

Her hands rose without permission, gripping the front of his coat. She felt solid strength beneath her palms, unyielding yet careful.

I hate this, she whispered.

No you do not.

She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. I hate how much I want it.

His thumb traced a slow line along her hip. Want is not weakness. It is honesty.

She leaned into him before she could stop herself. Their bodies aligned naturally, as if shaped for this exact closeness. The bond surged, warm and possessive, tightening around her chest and low in her belly.

His forehead rested against hers. If we continue, there is no pretending this is just curiosity.

Her breath came shallow. I stopped pretending last night.

His breath brushed her cheek. Then let me do this right.

He kissed her again, slower this time, deeper. The kiss was not rushed. It was claiming without possession, promising without binding. Her lips parted instinctively, a soft sound escaping her as his hand slid to her lower back, holding her there.

Every nerve in her body sparked to life. The world narrowed to warmth and pressure and the way he made her feel seen. Desired. Chosen.

She tugged at his coat, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, feeling heat and muscle beneath. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her lips.

Freya, he warned gently.

I know, she said, breathless. I know.

His control wavered. She felt it in the way his grip tightened, the way his breath grew heavier. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, then her neck, lingering just long enough to make her knees weak.

The bond flared hot and demanding. Her body arched toward him, every instinct urging more.

He pulled back abruptly, resting his forehead against her shoulder, breath ragged. Enough.

Her heart raced. Enough?

For tonight, he said. If we go further, it will not be something we can undo.

She trembled, frustration and relief tangling together. You think I do not know that.

I think you deserve choice, he replied quietly. Not momentum.

The words settled deep. She loosened her grip, resting her hands against his chest, feeling his heart pounding as hard as hers.

You kneel like this for no one, she said softly.

For you, I do, he answered without hesitation.

Silence wrapped around them, thick and charged. Outside, the city glowed beneath falling snow, unaware that something ancient had shifted inside a quiet hotel room.

Freya stepped back slowly. I need time.

You have it.

She looked at him, really looked at him. Not the Alpha. Not the impossible. Just the man choosing restraint over instinct.

Thank you, she said.

He nodded once. Sleep. The bond will not let either of us rest easily, but try.

After he left, Freya sank onto the bed, heart racing, skin still warm where he had touched her.

This was not fantasy.

This was real.

And it was only just beginning.