Chapter 9
Gregory
Dark, grim satisfaction settled over me as I carried my captured prey back to the cabin. The hunt was over, my instincts finally calmed and appeased by having Evan secured against me, but the most challenging part still lay ahead.
The walk back was a timeless torment. Evan’s thrashing had ceased, and the silence brought its own punishment.
His body had gone pliant against my shoulder, each curve molding to me as he surrendered to being carried.
The reprieve from his struggles should have offered relief. Instead, it brought far worse agony.
His scent drifted toward me, a heady jasmine threaded with sweet desperation that eroded my control.
The need radiating from him clouded my mind, and each breath I took threatened my already frayed resolve.
Even more distracting was the smell of his slickness, a damp promise calling to every instinct buried in my blood.
My cock throbbed against the confines of my pants, hard and demanding relief I refused to give. I anchored myself with each step toward the cabin, using the rhythm to keep the beast leashed.
Once we reached home, I could dose myself with suppressants, clear my head, and give Evan the same relief from whatever storm raged within his system.
Part of me hated the delay, but I forced myself to lock onto what mattered.
Something inside Evan had changed, and until I understood what, taking advantage of his confusion was a line I wouldn’t cross.
At least he hadn’t manifested magic. That small mercy kept my darker fears caged.
When we reached the cabin, Lyra was perched on the porch steps, hunched forward as she waited.
At our approach, she jumped to her feet, relief slackening her features.
“Thank the goddess, you found—” She started toward us but froze mid-step, then recoiled, pressing a palm to her nose as her face scrunched in distress.
She hesitated for just a moment before her determination took over. Gritting her teeth, she came closer and flattened herself against the side of the porch, putting as much distance between us as the space allowed. “Is everything alright?” Her pinched expression told me she already knew.
“You need to go home.” I hated the way hope vanished from her face. “At least until his pheromones settle. It’s not safe for you here.”
Evan’s pheromones were strong enough to overwhelm even Lyra. If she stayed, it would make her sick, and with both of us tense, things could turn dangerous.
“I’m not leaving him.” She patted the small pouch at her waist. “I have suppressants with me.”
“They won’t work on him. Not with whatever’s happening to him right now.”
She looked back and forth between Evan and me. “What about his injuries? His feet are bleeding. I can take a suppressant too—”
Evan let out a threatening growl, cutting her off.
“Enough,” I warned him.
Lyra’s eyes widened at Evan’s hostile noise, and she pressed her hand harder against her nose. “I-I understand,” she stammered.
She hurried inside to grab her things. When she came back out, arms full, her face showed both confusion and hurt. Her turmoil branded my conscience. Her best friend was acting like a wild stranger, and she was clearly struggling to make sense of it.
As she passed beside us, she paused to offer a small, respectful bow. “I’m sorry, Evan,” she whispered, tears tracing her cheeks.
“I’ll go to Adam myself if anything changes,” I assured her.
“Yes, please,” she managed. She hurried toward the chestnut mare tied near the tree line. The horse pinned its ears back, but stood firm as Lyra undid the reins. She swung into the saddle and gathered the leather straps in trembling hands.
She urged the mare into a trot, disappearing down the mountain path without a backward glance.
Only when the heavy beat of hooves died down did I step inside and let the door swing shut behind us.
I set Evan on the bed as soon as we crossed the threshold, positioning him upright and bracing my arms on either side so he couldn’t bolt.
He kept testing my control, but I wasn’t about to back off.
I leaned forward until our faces were a breath apart, studying him for any sign of a magical awakening, the radiance that would confirm my worst fear. But there was nothing, just vivid green eyes that didn’t recognize me or what we’d been to each other.
This had to be his most elaborate scheme yet—pretending he didn’t know me and releasing his pheromones to scramble my brain. I’d told myself I wouldn’t fall for it when his letter arrived begging me to meet him at the lake. One last time, he’d written. One last chance to speak with you.
Memories replayed like scenes before me. Evan at the town square, hands dusty with soil from the flower shop, offering me a shy smile that I met with a stony glare. Evan at the tavern, knowing I’d be there, holding a plate of the honey-roasted boar he’d learned I favored.
Back then, I had forced myself to see a trap in every kindness. I had convinced myself that the Empire had finally found me and sent him to dismantle me with softness where steel had failed.
Spies didn’t look at you like you hung the stars though. They didn’t spend months learning your favorite foods to have them ready when you passed by. He’d fit so well in this village of flower farmers. Too well.
I had refused to trust it. I’d tried every tactic to make him leave—cold silence, harsh words, threats. Nothing worked. He kept coming back, kept smiling that soft smile, and kept trying to break down walls I’d built with blood and necessity.
This man wasn’t that Evan. This was someone else entirely, and the walls I’d built against a gentle smile were meaningless against the fierce stranger who now wore his face.
For the first time, I allowed myself to drink him in, to memorize the man I’d only dared to observe in stolen moments. The delicate freckles dotting his nose and cheekbones, the way perspiration beaded along his hairline and trailed down the elegant curve of his jaw.
He was beautiful, always had been, but I’d never let myself admit it. Now, with his face flushed, he was breathtaking.
Evan tried to buck me off, his glare promising more violence. “Let me go. You’re far too close, and I don’t think you want me to break your nose again. Your nurse girl isn’t here to heal you or whatever the hell she does.”
My lips curved into a dangerous smile. Even terrified and confused, he had more fire than most alphas I’d known. “I don’t need anyone to heal me. So don’t move from here. The next time you try to escape, I’ll chain you.”
He shivered, but not from fear. Most people would have been frightened, but Evan’s pheromones spiked, charged with something darker. His pupils dilated as he met my stare, chin tilting up in pure challenge. “Try it, you beast.”
His defiance ambushed me. Deep frustration at his recklessness and my inability to reach him began to build; a different beast than the violent rage of my past.
I raised a finger in warning, keeping my eyes on him. “Stay there.” Even in his confused state, he’d understand that simple command.
Shuffling toward the kitchen, I opened the cabinet where I stored my medicinal supplies. Jars clinked as I searched until I found what I needed—two small vials of sapphire liquid that shimmered inside the glass.
From the corner of my eye, I tracked Evan on the bed. He followed my movements with that same forbidden intrigue, though the moment our gazes locked, he turned his head in clear dismissal. Even with the heat raging in his system, he still had the spirit to snub me.
Returning to him, I held out one of the vials. “Here. Drink this.”
To demonstrate it wasn’t poison because I could already hear his protests in my head, I uncorked mine and drained the contents in one swallow.
Evan folded his arms across his chest, fixing me with a glare that could melt steel. “No. I’m not stupid. First thing you learn as a kid is never take anything from strangers. Especially not from someone like you.”
I held up the remaining vial, the liquid swirling inside. “Do you know what this is?”
He shook his head, lips drawn into a thin line, and rolled his eyes with theatrical disgust.
I popped the cork with my thumb. “Then we do it my way.”
I took the liquid into my mouth without swallowing, then moved with a speed he couldn’t match.
Cupping the back of his head, I used my thumb to pry his jaw open, letting my scent wash over him as I occupied his space.
His resistance faltered, mouth parting slightly, and I sealed my lips over his.
The moment the bitter medicine passed from my tongue to his, an unexpected flavor exploded against my senses.
Sweet honey cakes.
The taste woke something fierce inside me. What started as a necessity ignited into possessive hunger. I groaned and deepened the kiss, chasing that impossible sweetness.
Evan finally gave in, his breath mixing with mine as a moan escaped him. His nails scraped my skin, leaving fiery tracks. He pulled back, the piercing sting of teeth on my bottom lip following.
“Don’t,” I grumbled, though Evan had never been one to listen to warnings.
He bit down harder, tearing up the skin, until the metallic taste of blood flooded both our mouths. I jerked back, probing the wound. “Do you have some compulsion to hurt me?” The question came out rougher than intended.
“You’re one to talk.” Evan wiped my blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “You hurt me first.”
The truth landed with a crushing impact. He was right. The knowledge that I’d hurt him first, that I’d proven myself to be the weapon I was made to be, branded itself on my soul. I’d hurt the one person who’d looked at me as if I might be worth saving.
The image of him unresponsive to the healers lanced through me.
The horrifying truth was that my cruelty had nearly shattered his will to live.
The bond, the very thing I’d feared, had been the only way to tether his spirit to this world when he’d started to fade.
My suspicion had been nothing more than a coward’s excuse.
In that moment, I stopped fighting the inevitable.
I had opened myself to him completely, accepting the bond not as a curse, but as my solemn duty.
When the connection locked into place, I’d let my own pheromones surge, aimed solely at him.
It was the only way to reach his soul, to pull him back.
I had to be his anchor, the one thing he could find in the dark.
I dropped to my knees next to the bed. Evan scrambled backward, flattening himself against the headboard as I showed him my empty palms in surrender.
“Please. I know you’ll never forgive me,” I told him, “but I want to try to make things right. Start over. I’ve been terrible to you for two years, and it’s been tearing me apart because you’re my mate and I’ve done nothing but push you away. ”
Silence stretched between us as Evan gaped at me, his eyes wide with shock.