Chapter 13 - Zane
I’ve been in high-pressure situations my entire adult life. From combat zones and extraction ops to missions where a single wrong move can get people killed.
I know what it feels like to nearly lose control, and I know how to shut it down, but this isn’t that. Because it’s not just the kiss or having sex; it’s what comes after and what I feel in the fallout.
Dragging a hand down my face, I glance over at Naia from where she lies on the other side of the bed, still awake but pretending to be asleep like she has been for the last twenty minutes. She can fake it all she wants, but I know she’s being kept awake by the same things plaguing me.
Instinctively, I want to ignore the weird, second pulse in my chest that feels foreign and completely unlike the only one that should be there. It’s enough to tell me something is off.
Not wrong or dangerous, but different.
I’ve felt attraction before. Chemistry and tension aren’t new to me, but this is something else entirely. It sits in my chest, steady, and impossible to ignore. The more I try to dismiss it or pass it off as something benign, the more it digs in.
I stare up at nothing as the realization starts to take shape.
Giving in was a spur-of-the-moment thing. It was fueled by anger and repressed resentment we’ve both been holding onto, but that was supposed to be all. We wanted release, and now, I think we’ve done something that can’t be reversed without severe consequences.
My jaw tightens, and I glance over at her again.
Naia still hasn’t moved, but I can feel the same shift in her from here, the same undercurrent threading through the space between us like something that has already taken root.
My stomach drops, and the words come out before I can stop them. “Tell me you feel that.”
Her eyes meet mine, guarded and wary as she gives up the act. She pulls the sheets around her a bit tighter. “Feel what?”
My expression and tone become completely serious. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
She exhales sharply and averts her gaze. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does. Don’t deflect.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she insists, allowing that stubbornness to return full force, as if she didn’t just surrender to me twenty minutes ago.
“Naia.”
“We had sex, that’s it. No big deal.”
No big deal…this is far from no big deal. If I’m right, then this is literally life-changing for us, and not necessarily for good reasons.
“This is serious.”
“You’re overthinking it.”
Something in me wants to laugh, but I can’t. Not while the gravity of the situation is far greater than I ever wanted it to be.
“Trust me,” I mutter. “This is not something I’d overthink.”
At this, Naia doesn’t respond, and she doesn’t look at me, but I catch the slight hesitation in her gaze. As much as she wants to play this off, she can’t either. She’s feeling it, too.
And that’s when it clicks into place fully, unwilling to be ignored.
“Shit…” I mumble, scrubbing a hand down my face again before I sit up, feeling the sheets pool around my waist.
Finally, I feel her eyes on me, and the intensity behind her focus is more telling than she knows. She sits up too, keeping a respectful distance between us, regardless of what we just did. “What?”
I hesitate because saying it out loud makes it real and turns it into something we can’t ignore. Still, not saying it would only make it worse, even if that would likely be her preferred route.
Lowering my hand, I take a deep breath and let the words slip. “We initiated a bond, Naia.”
Naia’s expression goes completely still, and for a long moment, she considers it in stiff silence. It stretches for so long that I start to wonder if I’ve completely lost her to the overwhelming thoughts.
“No,” she finally says with a slight shake of her head. It isn’t forceful, and not exactly angry either, just immediate, panicked denial. “There’s no way. Not us.”
“Yes, us. You feel it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means everything.”
All traces of previous bliss and subtle submission vanish at once, and she narrows her eyes at me. “We lost control.”
“We did more than that,” I counter, already able to feel the strange pulse of something new between us. “And you know it.”
She shakes her head again and shuffles back like she needs that distance between us to survive. “No. That’s not—no...”
I watch her carefully, well aware that she can feel it, regardless of her denial. The invisible connection isn’t just instinct or due to proximity. All of it comes back to her and us. Now, there is no me without her, and that thought is both damning and oddly satisfying.
“It was without ceremony,” I murmur, more to myself than to her. “I didn’t think that was still possible without—”
“Stop,” Naia snaps, more cutting now.
I look at her. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” she returns, pushing through the space between us to shove me back, putting her weight on me as her eyes burn into mine. “You’re not doing this.”
Caught off guard by the sudden dominance coming from her, my brows lift, and it takes great effort not to let my body react to her. Instead, I force out a strained breath, and I don’t push her off. “I’m not ‘doing’ anything. I’m telling you what happened.”
“No,” she says again, firmer this time as she leans closer. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Naia.”
“I’m not bonded to you.”
The words are forceful and definitive in a way that makes my inner wolf bristle, but underneath her refusal, I can feel the uncertainty. She isn’t immune to this; she just doesn’t want to name it.
I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair while I stay put, giving her this fragment of control for now. “Most wolves on the island would say it’s supposed to happen with ceremony. It’s about recognition, claiming, and witnesses.”
“Good,” she returns, pulling back just enough as if finally realizing how close she is to straddling my lap. “Then that means it didn’t happen.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“That’s exactly how it works.”
With a huffed breath, I shake my head. “No. That’s how they prefer it to work, but that doesn’t mean it’s the only way.”
Naia crosses her arms, still perched there like she’s bracing against something, yet unwilling to give me the upper hand. “This is ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why can’t you look at me and say you don’t feel it?” I counter, watching every subtle change in her expression while I look up at her.
The hard edge to her expression wavers briefly before it locks back into place, defiant and unable to back down. “I don’t feel anything I didn’t already feel before.”
It’s a lie, and we both know it.
“That wasn’t very convincing.”
“Maybe you’re just hearing what you want to hear.”
“Maybe,” I allow. “But I don’t think so.”
Reaching up, I place my hands on her bare hips lightly, testing the waters first as I hold her gaze. With a slight tilt of my head, I study her closely. It takes incredible restraint not to focus on how warm and perfect her skin feels against mine.
“Tell me you don’t feel it.”
Immediately, her breathing shifts slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t notice, but it’s enough for me.
Now I’m tuned into it in a way I wasn’t before. Every shift, every reaction, and every quick flutter of her heart rate only reinforces what I already know.
This is real, and it changes everything.
Naia swallows hard as she grounds herself and stays perfectly still, forcing a non-reaction out of herself. “I’m not playing your games.”
I can see the struggle in her eyes, and I can feel it moving between us. Regardless of how much I want to prove myself right here, that new instinct to keep her safe and as emotionally balanced wins out.
So I gently move her to her side and stand, forcing myself to put space back between us while I grab a pair of boxers.
If I don’t, then this will get even more complicated than it already is.
“This doesn’t have to mean what you think it means,” Naia murmurs after a moment, her voice quieter now but still guarded.
Covered enough now, I look at her again. “It means something whether you want it to or not.”
“That doesn’t mean we act on it.”
“I didn’t say we had to.”
“Then what are you saying?” she asks, looking more desperate for answers than she wants to admit to either of us.
Considering my words, I already know this is the part I don’t have a clean answer for. One part of me wants to maintain the same respect and decency I always showed her, and the other wants me to jump straight in. To claim her completely and openly, consequences be damned.
“I’m saying it exists,” I murmur, hating how dissatisfied that greedy part of me feels. “Ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away.”
Her jaw tightens, and she mutters, “Then I’ll ignore it harder.”
Regardless of the predicament we’re in, I almost smirk at that. Almost…but the weight of everything else presses in too quickly. Between the bond, the rogue group, and both our packs, everything is colliding at once, and I need to be careful about how I move forward.
I exhale slowly, and the decision settles in. “This changes things for both of us.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “It doesn’t.”
“It does,” I repeat. “Because now I definitely can’t let you go back there alone.”
Her eyes widen slightly as if she were struck, and the reflexive anger wants to slide back into place so badly. “Don’t start, Zane.”
“I’m not starting anything. We both did something, and now we have to face what that means together.”
“You don’t get to make that decision.”
“I do if it keeps you alive,” I state calmly, even if she looks prepared to fight me all over again.
Naia glares at me like it might do something, but I let her even though it doesn’t shake me. I feel used to it by now.
“We’re leaving,” I say after a beat, arms crossed now.
Her expression shifts slightly. “Leaving where?”
“To my real place in Delmont.”
Recognition settles into her features, and her brows pinch together. “That ghost town dump?”
That pulls a soft snort from me, and I nod once. “Yeah, that place. I’ve been repurposing it with my group, and we’re turning it into less of a dump.”
She scoffs. “And you think I’m just going to go with you.”
“I know you are.”
Her brows lift. “Really?”
“I do.”
“And why is that?” Naia asks, tone bordering on mocking now, as if she has already made up her mind.
“Because you’re not getting past me to go back to Wraith Peak after all of this. Not while I can feel your location now,” I say evenly, knowing full well that’s where her mind still is. “And because you’re smart enough to know you need more information before you make your next move.”
She hesitates, just for a second, then mutters, “You’re unbelievable.”
“And still going out of my way to keep you safe regardless.”
Naia’s gaze burns further, then she tries to push the anger down with a breath. “Fine, but don’t get used to it. I’m not agreeing with you; I’m just…choosing the better option for now.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
She glares at me again, but she doesn’t argue further, and that’s all I need for now.
***
The ferry ride the following day is quiet. Almost too quiet, save for the boat’s engine and the waves being split as we move.
Naia stands near the railing, arms resting on the edge as she stares out at the water, the wind pulling at her hair and carrying the faint scent of salt. She’s wearing one of my sweaters that’s obviously too big for her, but it stokes something unfamiliar in me.
The Willow island looms ahead of us. Even from here, I can feel the weight of what’s to come and what Naia is going to have to face.
I move to stand beside her, close enough to feel the shift in the bond again, growing stronger now from the proximity, like it’s reinforcing itself the longer we’re near each other. She doesn’t bother to look at me.
“I hope you’re not having second thoughts,” I say, hoping for levity despite everything.
Naia’s jaw tightens instead, and she scoffs under her breath. “As if I were even allowed to have one to begin with.”
She got me there.
Silently telling myself not to rise to the bait, or to let this become a fight in front of the other passengers, I force my emotions into something neutral. “You’re quiet.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“That’s rare,” I murmur, leaning against the railing with her. “And usually not the case with me.”
That earns me a sideways glance that’s both brief and biting before she looks away again.
“It’s temporary,” she says.
“Sure.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do,” I respond, gentler now as I study her a beat longer, able to feel every wave of emotion coming from her now.
The water stretches endlessly in front of us, the island growing closer with every passing minute as Ashford disappears behind us.
Naia looks composed and calm…angry, even. But underneath that, there’s something else. The fear is subtle and not exactly overwhelming, yet it’s there, and even someone as intense as her can’t hide it.
For the first time in her life, she’s stepping into something completely unknown. No matter how much she fights it, everything waiting for her will have to be addressed one way or another.
I don’t call it out, and I don’t push either. Instead, I stand there beside her, letting the quiet settle in hopes of her eventually realizing that I’m not her enemy, as I’ve been trying to get across this whole time.
As complicated as everything has become, I want it abundantly clear that she’s not going back to the island alone. Not now, and not ever again if I can help it.
And whatever this bond turns into, whatever it means, I’m not walking away from it.
Not this time.