Chapter 25: The Almost Kiss
703 Words
The golden hues of sunset bathed the university campus in a warm, honey-colored glow. Students wandered back to their dorms or sprawled across the grass with books and coffee cups, but Anya’s world had narrowed to one quiet café on the edge of town—and the boy sitting across from her.
Nathan.
They sat at a small round table beneath a string of fairy lights. The world buzzed around them, but they were lost in each other’s presence. A half-eaten slice of chocolate cake sat forgotten between them, along with two mugs of slowly cooling tea.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly—everything and nothing all at once. Books. Dreams. Favorite colors. Childhood stories. The way he listened to her made Anya feel like she was the only person in the world.
Nathan smiled as she told a story about accidentally scaring off a goat during one of her early training sessions. She giggled at the memory, but his eyes weren’t just amused—they were admiring.
“You’re really something else, Anya,” he murmured.
Her breath caught.
His eyes—deep, thoughtful, and filled with a heat that made her skin tingle—held hers. They hadn’t stopped talking for nearly two hours, but suddenly, the silence between them felt louder than any word spoken.
Then, gently, he asked,
“Why do you always look like you're holding something back? Like you're guarding yourself from me.”
Anya blinked. Her heart raced, and Aurora stirred within her.
She looked away, staring down at her hands.
“I… I want to tell you, Nathan. But I can’t. Not everything.”
“Why?” he asked, gently.
“Because it’s forbidden… because I’m afraid.” She bit her lip, fighting the tears burning behind her eyes.
He leaned forward, voice low and earnest.
“Anya, whatever it is, you can trust me.”
She looked into his eyes again. The pull she felt—the warmth, the connection—it was undeniable. Her wolf, Aurora, whispered softly:
“He’s ours.”
Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“I’ve been… rejected before.”
“By someone I thought was destined to be mine. And I guess a part of me is still broken. I’ve been scared, Nathan. Scared to let someone in again and get shattered all over.”
Nathan’s expression softened into something even deeper than compassion. He reached across the table and took her hand in his—warm, steady, grounding.
“I don’t know what kind of guy would ever walk away from you, but he’s a damn fool,” Nathan said. “Because from the moment I met you… that day in the library when you bumped into me—I felt something. Like I already knew you.”
Anya’s eyes widened.
“I thought I was going crazy,” Nathan continued, laughing softly. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It felt like something bigger than me, like fate or the universe was screaming at me that you’re it.”
He paused. His thumb gently traced her knuckles.
“I don’t know how to explain it, Anya. But I knew, deep down, that you’re my soulmate.”
Tears welled in her eyes. For so long, she had carried the ache of rejection, of not being enough. But here was Nathan—human, kind, and unknowing of the wolf world—and yet he spoke words that mirrored the very magic she was born into.
Anya leaned in just slightly. Her heart thundered.
So did his.
There was a moment—a breathless, fragile moment—when their faces were inches apart. His eyes flicked to her lips. Hers to his. The air between them charged, like lightning before the strike.
Then—
Her phone buzzed loudly on the table, snapping them out of the trance.
Anya blinked and pulled away, heart racing.
Nathan cleared his throat, offering a soft chuckle.
“Right. Sorry,” he said, voice thick with something unspoken.
She smiled shyly, cheeks flushed, heart aching with both joy and confusion.
As they walked back to campus under the moonlight, their fingers brushed once, twice… and finally, he took her hand.
She let him.
—
- Writer
