Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
NAVIRA
The pink ocean embraced Navira like a long-lost friend as she tried to keep pace with Thalric. Swimming beside him in his magnificent sea wolf form felt like stepping into a dream—one where she belonged to something vast and wild and utterly perfect.
This is what I’ve been missing, she thought as she cut through the crystalline depths with powerful strokes.
The water here didn’t just support her; it seemed to energize her, filling her with a vitality she hadn’t felt since before her injury. Every cell in her body hummed with recognition, as if the ocean itself was welcoming her home.
Thalric’s wolf form was a masterpiece of primal grace and lethal beauty.
His dark grey fur rippled over muscles built for both speed and endurance, while those storm-grey eyes remained fixed on her with a piercing intensity that sent warmth flooding through her chest. His massive frame moved through the water with an effortless power that made her Olympic training look amateur by comparison.
Gerri had been right—these sea wolves made even elite human swimmers look like beginners splashing in a kiddie pool.
When Thalric accelerated, testing her limits, Navira pushed herself to keep up.
Her competitive spirit flared to life as she matched his rhythm, stroke for stroke, her body remembering what it felt like to be pushed beyond comfortable boundaries.
The challenge exhilarated her in ways she’d forgotten were possible.
How am I supposed to train his pack when he swims like this?
The thought flickered through her mind before dissolving into pure sensation.
She had ideas—techniques from her Olympic days that might translate—but right now, analysis felt impossible.
The only thing that mattered was this moment: the burn in her muscles, the rush of water past her skin, and the magnificent creature swimming beside her like they’d been doing this for years.
Swimming with Thalric felt natural in a way that defied logic. Their movements synchronized without conscious effort, as if some invisible current connected them beneath the surface. When he dove deeper, she followed instinctively. When she changed direction, he matched her seamlessly.
Eventually, her human limitations began to show. Her strokes grew less precise, her breathing more labored, while Thalric’s wolf form showed no signs of fatigue. As if sensing her need for rest, he slowed and began to shift back to his human form in the water beside her.
The transformation was mesmerizing—a fluid dance of bone and muscle that left him treading water with that devastating smile she was beginning to crave like air.
“Did you enjoy the water?” His voice carried a roughness that made her pulse skip.
“Yes.” The word came out breathless, but not just from exertion. “It made me feel things I haven’t felt in five years. A connection to the water that I’ve been missing.” She paused. “There’s something about this ocean that seems almost therapeutic, but I can’t understand why.”
Thalric’s expression softened with understanding. “This ocean has always been my refuge. It’s a place that allows you to just be free.”
“Yes.” The agreement burst from her with surprising force. “That’s exactly what I felt. Free. No pressure, no expectations, just me and the water.”
He swam closer, and the space between them seemed to crackle with electricity. “What about me? How did you like swimming with me?”
Something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in his universe that mattered—combined with the strange magic of this water to strip away her usual defenses. And the truth spilled out before she could stop it.
“Swimming with you felt right. Like we belong together in the ocean.”
His eyes darkened with satisfaction as he moved even closer. “It’s because we do. The mate bond is getting stronger between us.”
Now his face was inches from hers, close enough that she could see water droplets clinging to his dark lashes. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin despite the ocean’s embrace.
“Is that what this pull is?” Her voice came out breathless. “This thing that makes me drawn to you?”
“Yes.”
She knew she should maintain distance. She’d been crystal clear about no romance, about keeping this professional.
But the water seemed to be doing funny things to her logical brain, dissolving her carefully constructed walls like sugar in rain.
The mate bond he spoke of hummed between them, a living thing that demanded acknowledgment.
Before she could think, before she could remember all the reasons this was impossible, they were leaning toward each other. She couldn’t tell if he moved first or if she did—maybe they both surrendered to the inevitable at the same moment.
Then his lips found hers, and the world exploded into sensation.
The kiss was everything—tender yet fierce, slow yet hungry, gentle yet consuming.
His mouth moved against hers with a reverence that made her heart stutter, as if he was worshipping something sacred.
When his hand tangled in her wet hair, she melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened into something that rewrote her understanding of desire.
Their tongues met and danced, and he tasted like salt and ocean tang and something uniquely him that made her crave more.
The kiss went on for minutes that felt like hours, until she was completely lost in the sensation of his mouth claiming hers with a possessive tenderness that left her breathless.
This mate bond is powerful, she realized dimly. This is why I can’t think straight around him.
The intensity of it terrified and thrilled her in equal measure. She’d never experienced anything close to this raw, consuming connection—not even with Jeremy at the height of their relationship.
But then reality crashed back like a cold wave.
What am I doing? This can’t happen.
She pulled back abruptly, her chest heaving as she stared at him in horror. “We shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”
Before he could respond, before those storm-grey eyes could convince her to throw caution to the wind entirely, Navira turned and began swimming toward shore with powerful, desperate strokes.
“Navira, wait—”
His voice called after her, rough with confusion and something that might’ve been hurt, but she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t. The kiss had shattered every defense she’d built over the past five years, leaving her raw and exposed in ways that made her want to run back to Earth and hide in her safe, predictable life.
I can’t do this, she told herself as she reached the pale yellow sand and grabbed her towel with shaking hands. I can’t fall for him. I can’t be vulnerable again.
The memory of Jeremy’s rejection after her injury rose like a specter—the way he’d looked at her with disappointment when she’d quit competing, the coldness that had replaced his love when she’d refused to explain why she couldn’t swim the same way anymore.
I won’t let another man get close enough to destroy me again.