Chapter four
1211 Words
ALINA’S POV
His hand closes around my wrist—and everything explodes. It’s worse than last night. Stronger. Deeper. The heat doesn’t just hit me this time, it claims me, rushing through my chest like wildfire, searing through every nerve, every breath, every thought. My wolf surges forward violently, slamming against the edges of my mind.
Mine.
The word echoes, loud and possessive.
My breath catches as I look up at him—and I see it. He feels it too. His expression fractures for a second, control slipping. His grip tightens instinctively, like he’s anchoring himself against the same storm tearing through me.
“What—” My voice breaks. I swallow. “What is this?”
But I already know. I just don’t want to say it.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls me closer. Not gently, not roughly, just enough that the space between us disappears.
My breath hitches. I can feel everything—his heat, the tension in his body, the rise and fall of his chest. The bond tightens, pulling, demanding, alive in a way that feels unbearable. My wolf presses forward, restless, desperate.
His gaze locks onto mine. Dark. Intense. Unsteady.
“You feel it,” he says.
Not a question.
I shake my head. “No.”
A lie.
His jaw tightens. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snap, but the words come out uneven. Breathless. Because he’s right. I do feel it. Every second of it. The pull. The heat. The way my body recognizes him in a way I don’t understand.
“It doesn’t make sense,” I say quickly. “You’re Blackridge.”
“And you’re not,” he fires back.
We’re too close. Our voices low, sharp, tangled together. But neither of us moves.
“If this is some kind of trick—”
“It’s not,” he cuts in, rougher now.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
That hits harder than it should.
“Neither have I,” I admit quietly.
Silence stretches between us. Not calm—charged. The bond pulses again, stronger, reacting to the words. Heat spreads through me, deeper, more insistent.
His grip shifts slightly on my wrist. Not letting go.
“Say it,” he murmurs.
My heart pounds. “Say what?”
His eyes don’t leave mine. “You know what.”
I do. I hate that I do.
I shake my head. “No.”
Something dark flickers in his expression. “Afraid?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Then say it.”
The challenge hangs between us. Heavy. Provoking. My wolf snarls, pushing forward, demanding. The bond tightens, almost painfully.
I step closer without meaning to. Close enough that my breath brushes his jaw.
“Fine,” I whisper. “This… feels like a mate bond.”
Everything shifts.
The pull sharpens. Deepens. Locks into place.
His grip tightens. “Feels like?”
“I’m not confirming anything,” I snap.
A humorless breath leaves him. “You already did.”
My heart stutters. I hate that he’s right.
“This shouldn’t be possible. Our packs—”
“Don’t matter right now.”
“They do. They always do.”
He studies me for a moment. Then, quieter, “And yet you came back.”
That lands hard.
Because it’s true.
I didn’t come back by accident.
I was pulled here.
To him.
Heat surges through me again.
His eyes drop. Not to my wrist. Lower. Slower. Deliberate.
My breath catches.
The tension shifts instantly, the conversation fraying as something darker creeps in. His hand slides slightly along my wrist. Not letting go. Just enough to feel.
To remind.
My body reacts before I can stop it. A sharp inhale. A subtle shift closer.
His gaze snaps back to mine.
“Tell me you don’t feel that,” he says, low and rough.
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Because I can’t.
Because I do.
The bond pulses again, stronger, hotter, wrapping tight around my chest. My wolf surges, pressing, claiming.
Mine.
The word echoes louder this time.
My fingers curl, resisting the urge to grab him, to close the distance completely.
“This is a problem,” I say, but it sounds weak.
His mouth tilts slightly. “Yeah.”
But he doesn’t let go.
And neither do I.
The river hums behind us. The forest watches.
And we stand there—locked together, enemies, bound by something neither of us can control.
And neither of us is walking away.
look up at him.
And this time… I don’t look away.
His eyes meet mine, dark and steady, but there’s nothing controlled about them anymore. Whatever he’s feeling, it’s there now—raw, unguarded, impossible to hide.
The bond pulses between us.
Not just heat.
Not just tension.
Something deeper.
It wraps around my chest, tight and unrelenting, pulling at something inside me I didn’t even know existed. My wolf quiets for a moment, not restless now, not fighting—just… certain.
Like she’s found something she’s been searching for.
My breath slows, but my heart doesn’t.
It pounds harder, louder, like it’s trying to match his.
We don’t move.
We just stand there, staring at each other like the rest of the world has fallen away. Like the river, the forest, everything outside of this moment doesn’t matter.
Because right now—
It’s just him.
And me.
And whatever this is between us.
His gaze softens slightly, just for a second, like he feels it too. Like he understands it, even if he doesn’t want to.
My chest tightens.
I can’t ignore this.
I should ignore this.
But I can’t.
“I have to go,” I say quietly.
The words feel wrong the moment they leave my mouth.
His jaw tightens almost instantly.
“Why?”
I swallow, forcing myself to hold his gaze.
“Because if I don’t,” I say, my voice steadier now, “my pack will realize I’m gone.”
The reminder settles between us.
Heavy.
Real.
His expression shifts, something harder creeping back in. Not anger. Not quite.
Awareness.
Of what this means.
Of what we are.
“Then go,” he says, but it’s quieter now. Less like a command. More like something he doesn’t want to say.
I hesitate.
Just for a second.
Because the bond pulls again, sharper this time, like it’s resisting the distance before it even happens.
My wolf stirs, restless now, unwilling.
I take a step back anyway.
The space between us feels wrong immediately.
Too empty.
Too cold.
But I don’t stop.
Because if I do—
I won’t leave at all.
My eyes stay on his as I move further away, memorizing the look in them. The intensity. The conflict. The same pull I feel tightening in my chest.
“This isn’t over,” he says suddenly.
I pause.
My breath catches.
Because I know he’s right.
I don’t answer.
I don’t need to.
The bond says it for me.
And then I turn—
And disappear back into the forest.
But even as I run…
I can still feel him.
- Writer
