Chapter 17 Theodore #3
Weaving my fingers into the softness of his tangled hair, I pulled Rory down and pressed my lips to his, the contact igniting sparks despite my battered state.
The kiss tasted of copper and salt, of violence and fear, but beneath those harsh notes lay something elemental—something that somehow reminded me of rain striking hot earth, lightning splitting open the sky.
Our breaths mingled as my fingers curled into his hair, anchoring myself to him while the world continued to spin.
Something about his nearness steadied me, as though he’d become my centre of gravity.
Through the kiss, I felt the trembling in his body begin to subside, felt his racing pulse gradually slow to match my own.
In this moment of chaos, with blood on his lips and terror still fresh in our veins, we found an impossible pocket of stillness—the eye of our personal storm.
Rory pulled away, scanning the darkness around us with sharp, alert eyes.
“Where did he go?” I asked.
The moorland stretched endlessly in all directions, offering countless hiding places amongst the gorse and stone outcroppings.
“Could be anywhere by now.”
“Do you think he’ll come back?”
“I don’t know. That wasn’t… that wasn’t Dev. Not really. Something’s wrong with him. Really wrong.” Rory’s fingers ghosted over the wet patch on my scalp. “But you need proper medical attention. That’s a lot of blood.”
I shook my head. No time for that. “Head wounds always bleed more than they should.” I tried to sit up, but my muscles betrayed me and I collapsed back onto the damp heather with a groan.
Anxiety spiralled through me—but not my own. This was Rory’s panic, sharp and acidic, flooding my system like poison. The sensation was so invasive that it made my stomach lurch.
“Rory, I need to tell you something. Something is happening to me. To us. Something weird.” I took a large, unsteady breath.
“It’s like suddenly I’m feeling your emotions as if they’re my own.
And earlier—Christ, I felt your shift. The actual physical pain of it.
And… I hate to tell you this, but your thoughts are even louder now.
Crystal clear. Especially if we’re touching. ”
….no, no, no, no…
A look of pure horror crossed Rory’s face. He looked away, his anxiety spiking so dramatically that I gasped.
“I can feel that,” I said, my voice strained. “What’s going on?”
“You’re going to be really upset with me.”
…he’s going to hate me…
The anxiety vanished, replaced by something far worse—pure, crystalline terror that made my ribs feel like they were crushing inwards.
“Tell me,” I managed. “Whatever it is, just tell me, and then I can help deal with it.”
Rory’s hands twisted in his lap. “I didn’t know at first, honestly.
I mean, I didn’t know what the zapping thing was.
You know, that electric thing that kept happening between us?
But then I realised…” He trailed off, staring fixedly at a patch of gorse.
“Listen, you have to believe me, it’s not my fault.
I didn’t choose this, and I don’t even know much about it, but—”
“Rory.”
He took a shuddering breath. “I think I’ve… accidentally bonded you to me. A bit like with me and Kit, but different.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “This one is more, um… romantically charged? Like… a mate.”
The word hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
“But I promise I’ll figure out how to stop it. Break it. You won’t have to live with it forever.” His words tumbled out in a rush. “And when we get back to London, I’ll keep away from you so you don’t have to deal with it in the meantime—”
“Keep away from me?” It was as if someone had punched me in the gut. A streak of wild panic tore through my chest—definitely my own this time, not his. “Why would you do that?”
“So you don’t need to deal with these weird side effects,” Rory whispered.
“So you don’t need to feel all of my turbulent emotions—god help me, there’s a lot of those.
So you don’t need to see me until it’s all fixed.
” His voice faltered. “See the person whose stupid wolf decided it wanted to mate with you just because you told me you liked, liked me. But don’t worry. I promise I’ll stay far away.”
I could feel the hot sting of tears threatening to spill over—not my own, but his, flooding through our connection with devastating clarity.
I promise I’ll stay far away.
Every syllable was wrong, utterly wrong, and made something violently possessive rear up inside me, an intense feeling like no other.
Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking hard enough that he tumbled forward with a startled yelp. He landed sprawled across my chest, his naked skin warm against my shirt, and I immediately threaded my fingers through his dishevelled hair.
“You absolute bloody idiot,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Do you actually think I want you to stay away from me?”
His eyes went wide, confusion replacing the misery that had been radiating from him moments before.
“Listen to me very carefully,” I continued, my fingers still stroking through his hair.
“Of course, if you want to, we can figure out a way to break it. But I don’t care about the side effects.
I don’t care about not being able to block your thoughts.
And as for your turbulent emotions…” I cupped his face with my free hand.
“I’ve been dealing with those since the day I met you, weird wolf bond or no weird wolf bond. ”
His breath hitched.
“The only thing that would upset me,” I said, feeling the truth of it settle deep in my bones, “is if you disappeared. If you decided that because your wolf chose me or whatever, somehow that made it less real or less wanted.”
“But you didn’t choose—”
“Didn’t I?” I interrupted. “Every choice I’ve made in the past week has been about getting closer to you.
Coming to Scotland. Talking with you. Finally understanding you.
Being with you while you shifted. Meeting your family.
Sharing a bed. Telling you I like you. Having sex with you.
” My thumb traced across his cheekbone. “Maybe my conscious mind didn’t know what it was choosing, but some part of me did. ”
Tears spilled over then, tracking down his face to drip onto my shirt.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m crying right now.” He threw his face into me, mumbling, “I’m so mortified.”
…Jesus fucking Christ, Rory, stop that. He didn’t sign up to be bonded for life to a hot mess…
“You really thought I was going to be pissed at you?” I asked, genuinely baffled.
Rory’s face emerged from my chest. “Well, yeah. I mean, this is literally your personal nightmare, isn’t it? Being permanently stuck with me?”
His palm pressed against my ribs. I could feel the way he’d convinced himself that being bonded to him was a burden, a prison sentence for whoever got caught in his orbit.
Was I freaked out about being permanently tethered to Rory Thorne?
Absolutely. The idea of never again having any semblance of barrier between our minds, of being tied to someone so impulsive and chaotic, of having my carefully controlled life turned upside down by supernatural forces beyond my control—yes, it fucking terrified me.
But Rory didn’t need to know that right now.
Instead, I found myself grinning despite the pounding in my skull. “Plus,” I added. “Now I’ll always know when you’re about to do something spectacularly stupid, which should make my job considerably easier.”
“Oi, I’m not that predictable.” A watery laugh escaped him, and the crushing weight of his self-loathing eased just slightly.
“You literally just ran across the moors after your missing ex-boyfriend creepily beckoned you outside in the middle of the night without giving your safety a second thought.”
“Fair point.”
The moment of levity faded as reality crashed back over us. Dev’s empty eyes, the inhuman strength, the way he’d vanished into the darkness.
“Right, then,” I said, my voice turning grim. “What the fuck are we going to do about Dev?”