The Fated Mate almost Missed

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Lyra

The storm had long since passed, but it still lived inside me. I stood at the edge of the forest, the scent of pine and crushed leaves sharp in the air. Behind me, the Shadow Pack’s estate buzzed with uneasy activity—whispers of alliances and betrayal, the crackle of power in the air like an impending lightning strike.

But none of that mattered.

Not when Gavin Nightwind stood a few paces away, staring at me like he could rip apart the moon itself if it dared look at me too long.

I hated the way my heart stuttered. I hated the way his scent—dark spice and rain-soaked cedar—wrapped around me even from here, like an invisible leash.

“You should go,” I said flatly, not turning to look at him.

“I’m not leaving,” he replied, voice low, resolute.

His presence coiled around me like smoke, impossible to ignore. I could feel his eyes trailing down my spine, could almost hear the thud of his pulse in my own chest.

“Your alpha won’t like this,” I bit out, still refusing to face him.

“You’re my mate, Lyra. My alpha’s opinion stopped mattering the second the bond snapped into place.”

I turned, slowly, fury and confusion and that damn pull twisting inside me. “Do you hear yourself? You’re the heir to the Night Pack. I’m the Alpha of Shadow Pack. This bond—this fate—wants to ruin everything we’ve both built.”

He stepped forward, closing the distance between us until I had to tilt my chin up to meet his gaze. “Maybe fate isn’t trying to ruin us. Maybe it’s trying to save us.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You don’t get it.”

“I do.” His hand lifted, slow and deliberate, as if he thought I’d bolt if he moved too fast. His fingers brushed the edge of my jaw, and I cursed my body for leaning into it, even as my mind screamed to run.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

I hated that he noticed.

“It’s adrenaline,” I snapped.

“It’s the bond.” His voice dropped to something darker. “I can feel it too. The way your pulse skips when I’m close. The way your scent changes.”

My cheeks flushed with heat. “Don’t talk about my scent.”

“Why not?” His thumb stroked my lower lip. “It drives me mad.”

I stepped back like his touch burned me—and it did, just not the way I wanted to admit. My wolf clawed at my chest, furious with the distance, whimpering to be near him again.

He didn’t push, and somehow, that made it worse.

“Why didn’t you say anything the night of the summit?” I asked, voice hoarse. “You felt it. I know you did.”

Gavin’s jaw tightened. “Because you looked at me like I was a threat. Like fate had played a sick joke on you.”

“Maybe it did,” I whispered.

Silence stretched between us, thick with everything we didn’t say.

Then, quietly, he asked, “Did you wish it was someone else?”

I swallowed hard. My pride demanded I say yes. My wolf, furious and aching, howled no.

I looked away instead.

That was answer enough.

Gavin stepped closer again, slow, measured, until his breath brushed my cheek. “Tell me to leave, and I will,” he said. “But don’t lie about what you want.”

The night pressed in around us, and my skin buzzed with awareness.

I didn’t know what I wanted.

No—that was a lie.

I wanted him. Gods help me, I wanted him so badly my bones hurt from the ache of not touching him. But wanting wasn’t the same as trusting. And trust had to be earned, not bound by destiny.

“I can’t afford to be weak,” I said, barely above a whisper.

“Wanting me doesn’t make you weak,” he said. “It makes you honest.”

I turned sharply, facing him again, and for a moment, the air between us cracked with something electric. Gavin’s hand found my hip, tentative, but when I didn’t pull away, he pressed closer.

My breath hitched.

He lowered his mouth until his lips grazed the shell of my ear. “Let me show you.”

A shiver raced down my spine, and my fingers clenched into the folds of his jacket. My voice trembled. “One kiss. That’s it.”

His growl was low, rough, and then his mouth was on mine.

There was nothing gentle about it. His lips crushed mine, desperate and wild, like he’d been starving and I was the only thing that could sate him. His hand fisted in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me gasp—and he swallowed that sound like it belonged to him.

Heat exploded in my veins.

My body surged against his, every inch of me alight with need. Our teeth clashed, tongues tangling as the kiss deepened. I tasted fury, desire, surrender. He tasted like something forbidden—and I wanted more.

His hand slid to my waist, pulling me flush against him. I felt the hard line of his arousal through his jeans, and my thighs clenched involuntarily. My wolf growled her approval, drunk on his touch.

But the second his hand started to slide lower—

I pushed him back.

Hard.

We were both breathing like we’d run miles, and his pupils were blown wide, almost black.

“That’s enough,” I rasped, fighting the tremor in my limbs. “I said one kiss.”

He didn’t argue. He just stared at me, chest heaving, like I’d shattered something sacred and beautiful.

“I’m not your enemy, Lyra,” he said quietly.

“I know,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t make you my ally.”

I turned on my heel and walked away before I could change my mind. Before my body betrayed me again.

Before I let him become something I couldn’t survive losing.