Damien
I watched her go.
The scent of her still lingered—wild berries and stormlight, something ancient and electric that clung to my lungs even as she walked away, not once looking back.
Her presence used to rile something primal in me. Now it just left a hollow burn in my chest.
The mate bond had awakened. Fully. Irrevocably. But instead of feeling whole, I felt like I was drowning.
Because this wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t the right person.
Not yet.
I stood there long after my little wolf disappeared into the crowd, fists clenched so tightly that blood beaded down my palms. My wolf was restless, pacing, snarling, clawing at the insides of my ribs. He wanted to follow her. Protect her. Be near her.
But I couldn’t afford that luxury.
Not when everything else was unraveling.
I
