I hadn’t meant to stop the car, but her words hit a nerve I hadn’t known was raw. My hands jerked the wheel, and we skidded to the shoulder, gravel crunching under the tires. And before I knew it, I'd picked her up and settled her into my lap, and she fit me perfectly, almost like she belonged there.
And gods help me, she did.
Her weight settled on my thighs, her legs bracketing my hips. My hands instinctively went to her waist, holding her steady as she looked at me with those eyes—so full of fire and softness it made my chest ache.
“Jealous?” I repeated her accusation, scoffing, but my voice betrayed me. “I have no reason to be jealous of him.” I leaned in until her breath mingled with mine. “If I wanted to, I’d have you.”
“But you can’t,” she whispered, her voice a shaky defiance that only made me want her more. “We’re just friends.”
“Friends,” I repeated, the word like ash in my mouth.
And still, neither of us pulled away.
Her lips brushed mine, a whisper of contact that had my wolf snapping at the edges of my control. And then she moved—just slightly, but enough that I felt every inch of her press into me, and the friction sent a growl up my throat.
Her hands slid around my neck. I lost sense of everything but her—her heat, her scent, the soft noise she made as I kissed her back. It was a slow burn, then a wildfire. She tasted like temptation and danger, like something I could never deserve.
I was losing it.
The wolf clawed to the surface, furious and hungry, desperate to claim what it knew was his. My fingers tightened on her hips. I tried to hold her still, tried to stop the way she moved against me, but it was useless—I wanted it. I wanted her.
“Jo,” I groaned, her name torn from me like a prayer I didn’t deserve to speak. My hands threaded into her hair as I kissed her deeper, as if I could consume her, bury the ache inside me where she lived now.
And then I felt the shift coming—too close, too fast.
Panic sliced through the haze of need. I shoved her off me, every instinct screaming in protest, and threw the door open, stumbling into the night air like it could cool the fire burning through me.
“f**k,” I snarled, dragging my hands through my hair, pacing, trying to breathe through the scent of her that still clung to my skin.
She got out. Of course she did.
Even angry, even heartbroken, she came closer. She always came closer.
“What aren’t you telling me, Evander?” she asked.
I wanted to tell her everything. Wanted to drag her into my world and show her the truth. But how do you explain to someone that the thing inside you wants to 'mark' them? That every time she’s near, it takes everything not to fall to your knees and beg? To take her and never let go?
You can't.
“I can’t,” I said. “It’s not safe for you.”
She reached for me. She told me she trusted me. She told me she wanted me.
And gods, I felt it too. That pull—that maddening, soul-deep ache. There was no explanation for what was happening. The only bond that should be this all-consuming is the mate bond. But she's human and can't be my mate.
And if I stayed... she'd never be safe.
So I did the only thing I could. I shut it all down. Locked every piece of me away and walked her to the car.
Driving her home was torture. I kept my window cracked and breathed through my mouth just so I wouldn’t drown in her scent. Even then, it clung to me. When I stopped the car, I didn’t wait—I bolted out like I was being hunted, because in a way, I was.
And when she asked me to talk, touching my arm with that quiet hope in her voice—I had to shove it down again. I left her there in the car like I hadn’t just shattered her.
But I couldn’t sleep.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling like it had answers. But all I saw was her face. The way she looked at me when I said those words. Heartbroken. Betrayed. And all because I thought I was protecting her. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard her voice and felt her pressed against me like she was still there.
And when I couldn’t take it anymore, I threw on a hoodie and ran. Fast, hard, until my lungs burned—but no matter how far I went, she stayed with me. Before I knew it, I was standing outside her house, staring up at her window.
I didn’t plan to go to her house; I didn’t mean to climb through her window like some haunted fool. But there I was, watching her.
She was sleeping, curled up, chest rising and falling in soft rhythm. Tracks of dried tears streaked her face, and I reached out, fingers ghosting over her skin like I could wipe the pain away.
She stirred, whispering my name into the darkness. I stepped back, hiding behind the curtain as her eyes searched the room. Her heart picked up, and I could hear it.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper as I stepped into the moonlight.
“I couldn’t stay away,”
Her tears broke a part of me. A part that I hadn't known existed until I met her, and I wanted to tell myself I didn't care.
But I couldn’t pretend anymore.
Being near her but not being able to be with her was killing me. Every time I tried to be just her friend, every time I touched her, I wanted more. And when I pushed her away, my wolf went crazy.
So I told her the truth—at least what little I could. That I wanted her. That I was done fighting it. I laid it all out and waited, breath held, blood thudding in my ears.
And still... she hesitated.
I don’t blame her.
She’d given me her heart once already, and I’d handed it back with shaking hands, pretending I was doing the right thing. Now I was here, asking her to offer it again. Asking her to believe that this time, I wouldn’t break it.
But I wasn’t sure she should.
She stared up at me, eyes wide and glassy, her fingers curled around mine. And for once, the silence between us wasn’t empty—it was electric.
Her lips parted, and my breath caught, my heart pounding in my chest in an unfamiliar way.
I didn’t know if she was about to let me in… or let me go.