5. Freesia
FIVE
FREESIA
The space separating Freesia from Izei—mere feet of Persian carpet—felt charged with everything they weren't saying.
Three months of running had taught her that dancing around uncomfortable truths only made them more dangerous.
Her mother had raised her to face difficult conversations head-on, and pretending this magnetic pull between them didn't exist was accomplishing nothing except making every interaction feel like walking through a minefield.
"I know you're my fated mate," she said quietly, her voice cutting through the silence with surgical precision. "And I know you know that too. So let's stop pretending otherwise."
Izei's brown eyes widened with genuine shock at her directness.
The careful mask of professional composure he'd worn all evening cracked, revealing something raw and vulnerable beneath.
For a heartbeat, she saw past the Alpha's legendary control to the man who'd been fighting the same impossible awareness she had.
But shock quickly gave way to something that looked suspiciously like worry.
"We have to work together," Freesia continued, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the strap of her satchel. "And I know this mate bond is complicating things right now but we can't lose sight of what's important—protecting the Compact and finding out who's after me."
Relief flickered across his features, followed by something that might've been admiration. When he spoke, his deep voice carried the measured authority she was beginning to recognize as his default setting under pressure.
"I completely agree with you." His hands rested calmly on the chair's armrests, but she caught the slight tension in his shoulders. "And I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. Have I given you any indication that I am?"
The question was fair, and painfully honest. Since the moment they'd met, he'd maintained careful distance, never once using his size or Alpha presence to intimidate her into compliance.
Even now, with the mate bond humming between them like a live wire, he sat perfectly still, letting her control the conversation's direction.
"No," she admitted, grateful for his restraint even as her tigress snarled with frustrated longing. "And thank you for maintaining professional boundaries. I'd like to uphold those right now."
Something flickered in his expression—hope mixed with confusion, as though her words contained a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.
"Right now?" The question emerged carefully, weighted with possibilities neither of them was ready to examine. "So you're saying you might be willing to explore the mate bond at some point?"
Damn it.
She'd revealed more than intended—the part of her that wasn't consumed with survival and duty—the part that actually wanted to discover what lay beneath this impossible connection.
"I don't know yet." The admission felt dangerous, like showing weakness to an enemy. "I just need to stay focused. I can't afford distractions right now."
Even as she spoke, Freesia realized she'd probably made everything infinitely more complicated by acknowledging the bond's existence rather than continuing to pretend it didn't matter. But royal training had taught her that ignoring problems rarely made them disappear.
Izei leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to something almost intimate.
"Freesia, you don't have to worry about the bond right now.
Or worry that I might overstep, because I won't." His eyes held hers with unwavering intensity.
"I gave you my word that I'll protect you and anyone you care about. That's what I intend to focus on."
The sincerity in his tone made her chest ache with unexpected emotion. "Thank you for that," she said, meaning every word. "And thank you for everything you've done so far."
But there was one more truth that needed acknowledging, one more potential complication that could destroy the fragile trust they were building.
"Also, I know you feel threatened by what Luka and I have," she continued, watching his expression carefully. "Please don't. He's a good man and he's my best friend. I don't want there to be any issues between any of us."
Izei's jaw tightened, but when he spoke, his voice remained steady. "I promise I won't cause any issues there. I respect Luka, and I can see why you're so loyal to him." He paused, as though he was choosing his words with surgical care. "He's a man of integrity. That's something I appreciate."
The admission surprised her with its generosity. Most Alphas would struggle with another male's protective presence around their mate, but Izei seemed genuinely willing to set aside territorial instincts for the sake of what she needed.
Maybe this could actually work.
Freesia rose from the couch, her decision crystallizing with sudden clarity. "Good. Then we have an understanding."
Izei stood as well, and she could see him fighting the urge to step closer, every line of his body radiating controlled restraint.
"Yes," he said, his voice rougher than before. "We do."
Under normal circumstances, they would shake hands—a formal acknowledgment of their agreement, the kind of diplomatic courtesy that had been drilled into her since childhood.
But these weren't normal circumstances, and touching him would activate the mate bond completely, transforming whatever fragile professional relationship they'd managed to establish.
She sensed his frustration, the Alpha's need to honor his word through concrete action rather than mere promises.
The tension radiating from his still form told her he wanted to offer that formal gesture, to seal their understanding with the kind of physical contact that meant something in their world.
This is ridiculous.
They were both adults. Both leaders accustomed to making difficult decisions under impossible circumstances. Avoiding a simple handshake because of what it might unleash felt cowardly, and Freesia Waverly had never been a coward.
Her hand extended before rational thought could intervene.
Izei's eyes darkened with something between hunger and disbelief. "Are you sure?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "You know what this means."
"Yes." The word emerged steadier than she felt. "I know. But I want to honor your word, and I want you to honor mine."
His hand reached out with deliberate slowness, as though giving her time to change her mind. But Freesia held her ground, watching their fingers align with the fascination of someone about to step off a cliff.
The moment their skin touched, the mate bond exploded through her nervous system like lightning striking ground.
The sensation was overwhelming, primal, and absolutely undeniable.
Every nerve ending came alive with electric awareness, and her tigress roared with triumphant recognition as the bond snapped into place.
Izei's eyes blazed with golden fire, his pupils dilating as the bond hit him with equal force. His hand tightened around hers involuntarily, and she felt the tremor that ran through his powerful frame as his panther fought for more.
Mine.
The rational part of her brain—the part that had been focused on protecting the Compact—screamed that she'd just made everything impossibly complicated. But a deeper, more fundamental part of her nature sang with delight, recognizing something she hadn't even realized she'd been missing.
She jerked her hand back, breaking the connection but not the bond. Nothing could break that now. It hummed between them like a living thing, stronger and more insistent than before.
Why did I do that?
But her tigress knew exactly why. Because despite everything—the danger, the responsibility, the weight of four centuries resting on her shoulders—she wanted to believe she could build something with this man. Something real and lasting and worth the risk.
"Good night," she managed, her voice barely steady.
Izei looked like he wanted to say something else, his eyes tracking her movement with predatory intensity. But he simply nodded, his own control hanging by a thread.
"Good night, Freesia."
She turned and walked toward the stairs with measured steps, fighting the urge to run back to him or flee entirely. Behind her, she could feel his gaze like a physical touch, the bond tugging at her with every step that took her further away.
By the time she reached her guest room and shut the door firmly behind her, her heart was racing and her palm still tingled where his skin had touched hers. She leaned against the solid wood, closing her eyes, trying to process what she'd just done.
Diplomatic. Honorable.
The words felt laughably inadequate now. She'd activated their mate bond because some part of her—the part that had been buried under months of survival and grief—wanted to hope again. Wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, she deserved something more than endless running and careful isolation.
The bond pulsed, connecting her to the Alpha downstairs in ways that made professional boundaries seem like a distant memory as she finally headed toward the bed.
Dawn crept through the windows of Freesia's guest room the following morning, painting golden streaks across the hardwood floor.
She lay still for a moment, cataloging the unfamiliar sensation of waking naturally instead of jolting awake to phantom sounds or imagined threats.
Her body felt more rested than it had in months, though true peace had remained elusive throughout the night.
The mate bond pulsed beneath her skin, carrying whispers of emotion that weren't entirely her own.
Worry. Protectiveness. An ache of longing so profound it made her chest tight.
Izei's feelings filtered through the connection in waves, and she'd spent hours fighting the urge to seek him out, to offer comfort she wasn't sure either of them was ready to accept.
Brilliant decision, Freesia.