12. Chapter 12
The scent hit Rhys before he reached the cabin. Fear and determination and something else. His wolf reared in protest. Run. The thought hit before the recognition did. She was running.
He just hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.
The cabin door stood open. Inside, Nadia moved with practiced efficiency, shoving supplies into a worn pack. She’d stripped the space of anything personal, erasing evidence of her presence the way she’d clearly done dozens of times before.
Rhys stopped in the doorway. The sprint through the woods had cost him. But he forced himself to stand steady. To not crowd her. To give her the room to make this choice.
“You’re leaving.”
Not a question. Just acknowledgment.
Nadia’s hands stilled on the pack. Her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t turn. “I stayed for the meeting. Heard what you needed to hear. Now I’m going before anyone dies for me.”
“No one’s dying for you.” Rhys set the words down between them like stones. “They’re fighting for what Blackridge stands for. There’s a difference.”
“Semantics.” She yanked the pack’s drawstring tight. “Dead is dead, whether it’s for me or for principles.”
“So you run.” His wolf clawed at his control, desperate to stop her.
To block the door and refuse to let her go.
But Rhys had promised what she wanted, and he’d meant it.
“Where to this time? How long before the next pack finds you? Before you’re back to starving in the woods, waiting for someone to decide your body belongs to them? ”
Nadia spun, her dark eyes blazing. “At least then it’s just me. At least I’m not watching good people bleed because I was stupid enough to think I deserved sanctuary.”
“You do deserve it.” The words came rough. “That’s not stupidity. That’s hope. And Thornwood wants to kill that hope because it threatens everything they’ve built on fear and ownership.”
“I don’t care what Thornwood wants.” Her voice thinned. “I care that Sage could die defending me. That Jace could lose his mate. That you—” She stopped, her breath hitching.
Rhys’s heart hammered against his ribs. “That I what?”
“That you’ll get yourself killed trying to protect someone who isn’t worth it.”
Rhys took a careful step forward, watching her track the movement. She didn’t retreat, but her hand drifted toward the knife at her belt.
“You think you’re not worth fighting for.” His voice came out gentle despite the fury burning through him. “That’s what they taught you, isn’t it?”
Nadia’s expression shuttered. “I know what I am.”
“No.” Another step. Near enough that he could see the tears gathering in her eyes. “You know what they made you believe you are. There’s a difference.”
“Stop.” Her voice broke. “Stop acting like you know me. Like this bond means you understand what I’ve survived.”
“You’re right.” Rhys stopped moving. “I don’t know.
You’ve never told me. Never trusted me with the details of what they did to you.
” His damaged hand flexed at his side. “But I know what I feel. The fear that never stops. The hypervigilance that exhausts you. The way you map every exit in every room because you’ve learned that safety is temporary and males are dangerous. ”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Then you know why I have to go.”
“I know why you think you have to.” Rhys held her gaze. “But I’m asking you to stay anyway. Not for Blackridge. Not for the pack. For me.”
She inhaled sharp. “That’s not fair.”
“No.” His throat burned. “It’s not. But I’m asking anyway because I’m selfish enough to want you here. Because for too long I’ve existed rather than lived, and feeling you again is the first thing that’s made me want more than just survival.”
“Rhys, ”
“The bond doesn’t make you mine.” He forced the words out past the wolf howling in him. “It makes you the person I’d choose even if biology hadn’t chosen for me.” His hand wasn’t steady. “But it only works if you choose back. If you decide that what we could have is worth the risk.”
Nadia touched her chest, feeling the warm thrum under her palm. “I don’t know how to do that. How to trust that you won’t—” She couldn’t finish. “That this isn’t just another cage with prettier bars.”
“Then test it.” Rhys took a step back. “Stay. Watch. See if my actions match my words. And if they don’t, if I fail you the way every other male has, then leave. I won’t use the bond to pull you back, and no one in Blackridge will hold the trail against you.”
“You say that now.” Her tears fell faster. “But when the bond gets stronger, when your wolf demands, ”
“My wolf already demands.” The admission tore out of him. “Every second you’re this close and not touching me, he’s raging. Wants to crowd you against the wall and mark you so that every wolf within scenting range knows you chose me.”
Nadia’s breathing quickened. She stared at him, searching his face for the lie. For the crack in the facade that would reveal the truth beneath the pretty words.
But Rhys just stood there. Patient. Steady. Absolutely certain.
“I’m terrified.” The admission scraped out of her. “Of staying. Of trusting. Of letting myself believe this is real.”
“I know.” His voice gentled. “But you’re here anyway. You stayed for the meeting when you could have run. You’re listening to me now when you could have already disappeared into the woods.” He held her gaze. “That’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The pull surged between them, warm and insistent. Nadia’s wolf pressed against her control, desperate to close the distance. To feel his hands on her skin. To know if the connection she felt translated to physical touch.
She’d spent months running from males who took without asking. Who saw her omega status as invitation rather than identity. Who believed her body belonged to them simply because biology said it could.
Rhys saw her. Really saw her. And still he waited. Her hand tightened on the pack strap. Half of her wanted to run before she could ruin this. The other half had already chosen. She held both halves for a long second, waiting to see which one moved her first.
Her fingers loosened before her mind decided. The pack slid off her arm. She watched it land like she was a stranger to her own body. Then, in the half-second after, her brain caught up to her hands.
Rhys’s expression shifted, hope flooding his features before he controlled it. But he didn’t move. Didn’t reach for her. Just stood there, letting her decide.
She crossed the space between them in three steps.
And kissed him.
The connection sharpened between them, pleasure so sharp it felt like breaking. Rhys made a sound low in his throat, surprise and desperate need, but his hands stayed at his sides. Letting her control the contact. Letting her set the pace.
Nadia pulled back, her breathing ragged. “Touch me.”
“Nadia, ”
“Please.” The words shook. “I have to know if this is real. If you feel what I feel.”
Rhys’s control shattered. His hands came up slow enough she could move away if she chose, and cupped her face with a gentleness that made her chest tighten. His thumbs brushed away her tears.
“I feel it.” His voice scraped. “Every second. Every breath. Like my wolf finally woke up after a long silence.”
She kissed him again, harder this time. His lips were warm and careful, tasting her rather than devouring. When she deepened the kiss, he followed her lead, his tongue sliding against hers with a skill that made her knees weak.
Pleasure built between them with each touch. Nadia’s hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. Rhys’s knee buckled under him, and he braced harder against the wall to stay upright.
She pulled back. “Your leg.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He tried to kiss her again, but she pressed her fingers against his lips.
“It does.” She glanced at the narrow bed against the wall. “Sit.”
Heat moved through Rhys’s expression, but he obeyed. He lowered himself to the bed carefully, his leg stretched out to ease the strain. The position put him below her, looking up with an expression that made heat pool low in her belly.
Nadia stood between his knees, her ribs aching with each breath. She’d initiated this. Kissed him first. But now, with him seated and vulnerable, she felt the power shift in a way that terrified and thrilled her.
“Tell me what you want.” Rhys breathed once, deliberate. “I have to hear you say it.”
“I want—” She stopped, her throat tight. “I want to feel you. All of you. I want to know if this is real on skin or if it’s just chemistry lying to us.”
“It’s not lying.” His hands settled on her hips, the touch light enough that she could break free easily. “But I have to know you’re sure. Because once we do this, I won’t be able to pretend the bond doesn’t exist. Won’t be able to keep my distance the way I have been.”
Rhys’s expression shifted, understanding and fury mixing. “Who hurt you?”
“Everyone.” Her gaze settled hard on his. “Every pack I’ve been part of. Every alpha who decided my body was communal property. Every wolf who thought omega meant available.”
His hands tightened on her hips, his control visibly fraying. “I will kill them. Every single one.”
“No.” She covered his hands with hers. “You’ll show me that not all touch is violence. That I can have this without surrendering everything else.”
Rhys pulled her down to straddle his lap, careful of his leg. The position put them at eye level, heat pulsing hot between them. His arousal pressed against her core through their clothes, and she felt him shudder at the contact.
“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” His tone grated against the silence. “Anything that scares you or reminds you of them. I’ll stop. No questions. No guilt.”
Nadia nodded, her breathing ragged. She rolled her hips experimentally, watching his eyes darken. The friction sent pleasure sparking through her, the pull amplifying every sensation.
Rhys groaned, his head falling back. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Good.” She did it again, harder this time. “I want you as desperate as I feel.”
His hands slid under her shirt, callused palms rough against her skin. He traced her ribs, learning her shape. When he reached the curve of her breasts, he paused.
“Can I?”
The question, the certainty that he’d stop if she said no, cracked something open in her. She pulled her shirt over her head, baring herself to him.
Rhys’s went rigid. His gaze traveled over her with an intensity that made her feel seen rather than objectified. When he finally touched her breasts, his hands were gentle. Reverent. Like she was something precious rather than available.
Nadia’s head fell back, pleasure building as he learned what made her gasp. His mouth followed his hands, lips and tongue and careful teeth that never crossed into pain. The connection deepened, each touch amplified until she was trembling.
“Rhys.” His name came out broken. “I need, ”
“Tell me.” He looked up at her, eyes blazing. “Tell me what you need.”
“More.” She fumbled with his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. “All of you. Now.”
He helped her strip him, revealing the scars that crossed his chest and shoulder. The damage from the ambush that had changed him. Nadia traced the worst of them, feeling him tense beneath her touch.
“They’re ugly.” Rhys’s voice came rough. “I know.”
“They’re proof you survived.” She kissed the scar over his heart. “That you’re still here. Still fighting.”
Rhys made a sound low in his throat, his control fracturing. He stood carefully, taking her with him, and lowered them both to the bed. The position put him above her, his weight supported on his good leg and his forearms.
“Last chance.” “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Nadia reached between them and freed him from his jeans, her hand finding him. He was thick and hard, his skin fever-hot. She stroked him, watching his eyes darken.
“I’m not telling you to stop.” She guided him to her entrance, her body slick and ready. “I’m telling you I want this. I want you. I want to choose something that isn’t fear.”
Rhys pushed inside her with care, letting her body lead. The stretch was intense, pleasure and pressure mixing until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The careful precision of him, even in this, undid her.
“Okay?” His tone came out ragged.
“Yes.” She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper. “Don’t stop.”
He started slow, each thrust controlled. But as she met him stroke for stroke, his restraint began to fray. His pace increased, his leg trembling with the effort of supporting them both.
Nadia felt the pleasure building, everything singing through her veins. She’d never felt this with anyone else, this perfect alignment of physical and emotional. This certainty that she was choosing rather than submitting.
“Look at me.” Rhys drew a shaking breath. “I need to see you.”
She met his gaze, and something surged between them. His gaze held nothing but certainty and desperate need. No calculation. No dominance. Just connection.
The orgasm hit her like lightning, pleasure so sharp it felt like breaking.
She cried out, her body clenching around him.
Rhys followed her over the edge, his release hot inside her as the connection opened wider between them, not complete yet, but real enough that Nadia could feel the shape of the choice she made.
He collapsed beside her, his breathing ragged. Their fingers laced together where their hands met on the sheets.
“That was—” He swallowed hard. “I don’t have words.”
Nadia turned her head to look at him. Tears tracked down her cheeks, but this time they weren’t from fear.
“Real.” The word came out broken. “That was real.”
Rhys pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her gently. Not restraining. Just holding. She felt the percussion of his pulse against her cheek.
“I chose this.” She pressed her hand against his chest. “I need you to understand that. This wasn’t the bond forcing me. This was me deciding that you’re worth the risk.”
“I know.” He exhaled hard. “And I’m going to spend every day proving that choice wasn’t a mistake.”
Outside, the sun was setting. Tomorrow, they’d face Thornwood’s ultimatum. Tomorrow, the war would begin.
She was here.