Chapter 11 Violet #2
The bond pulses between us, but there’s something else threaded through it. Something dangerous and a hell of a lot more potent.
“What is this?” I whisper, pulse pounding so hard that it’s making me lightheaded.
His fingers flex against my hips, tightening, dragging me that final inch closer until there’s no space left to pretend this isn’t happening.
“This,” he murmurs, lips brushing mine, “is what restraint looks like. You’d benefit from exercising some of your own.”
He lets go, and the sudden absence of touch is brutal.
He pushes up from the arm of the sofa so abruptly that it sends me stumbling back a step, lungs burning as I fight to regain my balance. Before I can process what the hell just happened or find my voice, he brushes past me, heading for the door.
It slams behind him with a finality that echoes through the apartment and straight through my chest.
Sleep is a memory I keep trying to chase and failing to catch.
It’s as if my body has completely forgotten how to rest. Night after night, I lie in bed staring at the ceiling while my inner wolf rages, rattling her cage hard enough to drive me to the edge of my sanity.
There’s a constant knot of tension lodged in my neck, an ache in my jaw from clenching my teeth to hold her back.
Even my nerves feel overclocked, buzzing beneath my skin, my muscles twitchy and keyed up.
Every sleepless minute that drags by is only a cruel reminder that I’m running on fumes.
Tonight, my wolf isn’t just pacing– she’s sprinting.
That run-in with Kane earlier did a number on her.
Whenever I close my eyes, she frantically tears through my mind, howling with a wild, manic energy that refuses to burn itself out.
I feel stretched thin, like a balloon pulled to its breaking point, barely holding together under the pressure.
It’s only a matter of time before my body gives out completely and I collapse. Maybe I’ll just spontaneously combust and leave nothing behind but a scorch mark and ashes. At this point, it almost sounds merciful.
Just as I roll over in bed for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, I hear the front door creak open. My wolf snaps to attention instantly, the bond pulling taut as a piano wire.
Kane.
My breath stutters, pulse taking off at a gallop. He hasn’t slept here since the night I moved in, and I definitely wasn’t expecting him to come back after the way he stormed out earlier.
I push up on my elbows, straining to track him by sound alone as he enters the apartment. His footsteps are heavy and dragging, but not clumsy. Those steps sound… exhausted.
Like me.
The weight of his presence carries through the walls until I swear I can feel it in my bones. My muscles tense when I hear him reach the end of the entry hall, and I hold my breath, waiting for a strip of light to appear beneath my door.
He doesn’t flip the switch on. Doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. For a few suspended seconds, it’s completely silent, save for the pounding of my own heart.
Then the footsteps resume, moving deeper into the apartment, toward the opposite side. My wolf lets out a miserable whine that echoes in my skull.
The sounds fade as Kane retreats into his bedroom, the door creaking as he swings it closed.
I roll onto my stomach and mash my face into the pillow like I can smother the awareness of him that way– the pulse of the bond, the low thrum of shared energy that refuses to settle.
The only solace in this whole thing is that he seems to be just as fucking miserable as I am.
The minutes slide by. Quiet takes over. It should be soothing.
It isn’t.
Knowing he’s here– within the walls of the apartment, close enough to feel but not touch, probably lying awake and miserable just like I am– sends my wolf completely off the rails. She thrashes in my chest, keening for her mate, and at this point there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to shut her up.
Except go crawling to him for comfort.
That’s one indignity I absolutely refuse to suffer, even if it means dying of sheer exhaustion. My mom did always say my stubbornness would be my end.
I roll onto my back again and blink up at the ceiling, skin prickling with restless heat. Huffing in frustration, I toss the covers aside, blindly reaching for the glass of water on my nightstand. My fingers close around it, but when I lift, it’s light. Empty. Dammit.
The last thing I want to do is get out of bed right now, but maybe that’s actually what I need. Maybe moving around will burn off some of this manic energy before I completely lose my damn mind.
I slide out of bed, bare feet meeting the cool wood floor. I’m only wearing a threadbare tank top and a pair of panties, but I don’t bother covering up in the name of decency. This place is supposed to be my home, after all– I should be able to walk around half-naked whenever I damn well please.
I pad over to the door and ease it open, pausing at the threshold as I peer into the hall. The apartment is pitch black, save for a stripe of moonlight bleeding in through the living room blinds. Dark, but not dark enough to slow me down with shifter vision.
Careful not to make a sound, I tiptoe down the hall, pausing at the kitchen.
There’s a water dispenser in the refrigerator door, but I don’t make any move to refill my glass.
Instead, I set it down on the counter and allow my wolf to pull me further down the hallway, toward the other bedroom.
My feet are silent, but my heart is pounding so loud I’m half convinced he’ll be able to hear it through the walls.
The door at the end is cracked open when I approach it. Inside, the light is dim– just a faint blue glow from an alarm clock on the nightstand– but it’s enough to see him by.
Kane’s lying in bed on his side, facing away from the door.
The sheets are tangled low around his hips, leaving his upper back bare, shadows tracing the hard lines of muscle.
For a split second, I think he’s asleep– but then I notice the subtle tension in his shoulders and the careful stillness.
The same kind of restless restraint that’s been gnawing at me for days.
He's awake.
The smart thing would be to turn around and leave, go back to my room… but my wolf has other ideas. She’s practically drooling, wanting to memorize every inch of this gorgeous man. The breadth of his shoulders, the contour of his spine, the patterns of ink etched into his tanned skin…
I’m still standing there like a complete creep when Kane shifts his weight. He rolls onto his back and I freeze, my heart stuttering hard enough to hurt. He stares up at the ceiling for a beat, jaw tight, then turns his head toward the door.
We lock eyes.
Neither of us says a word. We just stare at one another as the silence stretches, thick and charged with tension. My wolf surges, begging me to close the distance, while the rational part of my brain screams at me to retreat.
Kane breaks first.
He lifts his chin, just a fraction. Not a command, but a subtle, dangerous invitation. A dare to step inside.
I lift a hand and press my palm to the door, nudging it open. It swings wide.
His eyes drop instantly, dragging over my body in a slow, unapologetic sweep. His teeth sink into his lower lip as he pulls in a sharp breath before his gaze snaps back to mine.
I shuffle a single step forward, then stop, leaning my shoulder against the doorframe and folding my arms over my chest like armor. “Can’t sleep,” I mumble, as if it needs saying.
He grunts as he pushes himself upright, the sheets pooling at his waist. His torso is an anatomy lesson in what happens when you have the discipline to hit the gym for decades on end– endless planes of hard-earned muscle, built for violence and endurance.
I try to look away, but my eyes refuse to cooperate.
“You gonna stop lurking and just get it over with?” he asks, voice rough.
“Get what over with, exactly?” I scoff, crossing my arms tighter.
“Our wolves want to be close,” he grumbles, reaching over to peel back the covers beside him, exposing the empty space. “Let’s just cut the bullshit and deal with it so we can both get some sleep.”
I bristle immediately. “You want me to sleep in here?”
He drags a hand down his face, sighing. “Doesn’t matter what I want.”
Those words hit harder than they should. They shouldn’t make me feel anything– I don’t want him, either– but something tightens in my chest all the same.
“What makes you think you know what my wolf wants?” I grit out.
“She wants comfort,” Kane replies flatly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “She wants to be near her mate.”
He’s right.
And that’s what pisses me off most.
Because this isn’t a choice, it’s the bond. This stupid, relentless pull dragging us together, our wolves calling the shots while we stand here pretending we still have control.
He inclines his chin again, eyes flicking pointedly to the bed.
I glare back at him while I hesitate, irritation warring with bone-deep exhaustion. My wolf presses insistently– a steady, aching pull that makes my chest feel hollow– and I don’t have the energy to keep fighting her. I barely even have the energy to stand right now.
“Don’t think this means anything,” I grumble, pushing off from the doorframe.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he mutters, watching me intently as I cross the room.
The mattress dips beneath my weight as I climb onto the bed, keeping close to the edge so there’s as much distance between us as possible. The sheets are cool against my legs, his scent embedded in the pillow.
The second I settle, Kane moves.
He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, turning his back to me. Confusion cuts through my foggy mind.
“What are you–”
My question dies in my throat when he reaches down to shove his pants off in one smooth motion, kicking them aside without a glance back. Heat floods my face as my brain short-circuits, caught somewhere between don’t look and too late.
Before I can recover, the air around him shimmers as the shift rolls through his body.
Bones snap and rearrange, dark fur sprouts, his mass expands.
In the next blink, a massive black wolf occupies the space where Kane was standing.
His powerful shoulders bunch and flex as he turns to look at me, gold eyes locking onto mine, stealing my breath.
Without hesitation, he hops back up onto the bed and curls into the space beside me, a warm, solid presence pressing into my side. His size is impossible to ignore, but there’s nothing threatening in the way he settles. Just quiet strength; a calming force.
I jerk my gaze away to stare up at the ceiling, heart still hammering, trying to make sense of it.
Either he’s doing me a favor, since I made it abundantly clear I didn’t want to sleep next to him, or he hates me so much he can’t stand to be near me in his human form.
That thought should sting more than it does, but the truth is…
I don’t really care which it is. Because lying beside a half-naked Kane was a colossal mistake waiting to happen, but this? This I can handle.
I exhale a slow breath and sink deeper into the mattress. The tension in my shoulders eases, my wolf finally quieting, curling inward instead of clawing at my ribs. Kane’s fur is warm against my side, but I tell myself I won’t touch him. That I don’t need to.
My fingers twitch anyway.
As if he senses the impulse, he moves closer, adjusting his position until his muzzle rests heavily atop my thigh. The weight is grounding, my resolve crumbling on a dime. Reaching down, I thread my fingers into the thick fur at the scruff of his neck, stroking reverently.
A low, rumbling breath leaves him that sounds a whole lot like a sigh of relief.
I exhale heavily, my own sigh matching his. And as much as I hate it, for the first time since the Pairing– maybe the first time I can remember at all– I feel truly content.
My eyes drift shut.
Sleep takes me easily, gently, like it’s been waiting for this moment all along.