Chapter 27 #2
I look at the door. It would be so easy to leave. To go back to my predictable, orderly life where no one looks at me like I’m the center of their universe and then abandons me the next day.
But I can’t. Not yet.
My knee-jerk reaction, of leaving before I’m left, won’t help anything.
A short time ago, I was lost in the mind of the echo-beast, learning that love isn’t about being perfect or painless.
It’s about looking at a wound—in a monster, or in a man—and choosing to try anyway.
I stood in the center of that nightmare and accepted the messiness of a beast; I can’t refuse to do the same for the man standing in front of me.
I have to be brave enough to hear whatever messy, contradictory truth he wants to offer.
“Tell me,” I say, bracing for the worst.
He takes a deep breath. “For my kind—for wolf shifters, Lycans like me—there’s something that can happen. Something that only happens once. Something that’s sacred.”
“What are you talking about?”
He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, and the air crackles, growing thick with unspoken tension.
“It’s called a mate bond. It’s . . . fated.
A soul-deep recognition that this person,” he gestures between the two of us, his hand trembling slightly, “is the other half of you. Your mate. It’s not a choice.
It just . . . is. And the moment I first met you—I knew. You’re mine, Alanna.”
The world tilts.
My mind, usually so orderly, scrambles to categorize this new data. Mate bond? Is it a biological imperative? Some kind of magical binding? I try to analyze it logically, but the word “mine” bypasses my brain entirely, striking something deep and dormant in my soul.
“It was real,” I exhale, the puzzle finally clicking into place. “Everything I felt . . .”
“Yes.”
This is all so much to take in. I think back to so many of our interactions, recontextualizing them with this revelation.
Kade’s growl when Seb put his arm around me.
The way Kade’s body was the only thing that could warm me after the echo-beast drained me, and why his touch, and only his, makes my magic flare.
So many of the notes on my secret list. Throughout all of it, the same thread, the same insane, magnetic pull that has defied all logic, invading my every waking moment and even my dreams.
But if the pull is that strong, how did he resist it? I’ve been going insane with our close proximity without even understanding why, but he’s been able to ignore it and push me away this whole time.
A new fear takes root: maybe the bond is stronger for me than it is for him.
“You knew, and you still left,” I accuse. “Was it that easy for you? To just leave your ‘mate’ like that?”
“Easy?” Kade makes a rough, incredulous sound.
“I ran away because I was dangerous to you,” he says, his voice ragged.
He backs away from me, retreating until the sofa is between us again.
“There’s one last thing you need to know.
With a mate bond, the final step is—a bite.
It locks the bond in place. Makes it unbreakable. ”
Kade shudders, unable to meet my eye as the self-loathing radiates off him in waves.
“To do that without permission is the worst fucking thing a shifter can do. A violation. And that night—I was so close.” His face fills with disgust. “I think it had something to do with the way I’ve been fighting the bond.
The urge to . . . claim you, so you’d be mine forever—it was overwhelming. ”
His voice drops to a whisper, laced with genuine horror. “But I could never do that to you. And I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. So I had to get away. Remove the danger.”
My hand goes to my throat as the memory of his mouth on my neck, the phantom pressure of his teeth, springs to mind.
“So you left to give me a choice,” I say softly. “Even though it hurt you?”
His head snaps up, his expression fractured with agony. “Leaving you felt like tearing out my own heart with my teeth. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
The stark honesty in his voice cracks the last of my defenses. I search his face, looking for a lie, but there’s only open anguish. Like a man who has been at war with himself and lost.
My anger dissolves, replaced by a consuming need to understand the force that could wreck a man this strong.
“I want to understand it,” I say, all the protective barbs gone from my tone. “If this is affecting both of us so strongly, I need to know more about it. Tell me what it’s been like for you.”
He holds my gaze, his throat working as he swallows. “You sure? It’s kind of . . . intense.”
“Everything,” I insist.
“It’s been hell, Alanna,” he admits roughly.
“Not giving in to it. Every instinct I have, every cell in my body, has been screaming at me to touch you, to—” he blows out a breath, and then the words start coming out as though pulled from him involuntarily.
“To taste you, to pull you under me and keep you there. To make you mine.”
The possessive edge in his admission holds me captive, igniting the uncontrollable desire I’ve felt since the beginning. My pulse jumps with an abrupt, illicit anticipation and my body takes a step toward him on its own.
“Tell me more,” I breathe, suddenly feeling the heat radiating off him.
Like a man hypnotized, he glides toward me. This time when he reaches for me, I don’t pull away, leaning in as his fingers brush ever so gently against my hand. The contact is electric, a jolt that travels straight to my core, making my magic hum in response.
He says, “It’s why I was such a . . . brute . . . when we first met. I wasn’t expecting it, and it hit me like a fucking freight train.”
“Tell me what you wanted to do.”
A predatory heat flashes across his features, his eyes darkening as the memory takes hold.
His hand wraps around my wrist, and then he’s looking at me like he’s seeing me back in the library, overcome by the mating bond and knowing that I was his.
“And when you ran,” he growls, the sound vibrating through my bones, “my instincts kicked in. Chase. Catch. Claim. I know it didn’t exactly start us off on the best foot. ”
I swallow, heat blooming in my stomach as the memory of his powerful body trapping me, of his wild scent filling my lungs, crashes back in.
It was startling, yes, but it was also .
. . exhilarating. “I didn’t exactly hate it,” I confess, barely audible.
“I felt something too. I just didn’t know what it was. ”
His eyes flare, and a low sound rumbles in his chest. The knowledge that I wanted him, even then, must fray his composure, because he inhales sharply, his grip on my wrist tightening as his gaze drops to my lips.
It feels like this is the moment—the moment he’ll kiss me.
But instead, he forces his gaze back to mine, his expression softening into something so open, so nakedly adoring, that I almost have to look away.
“That’s the bond. The instinct.” His voice is thick with desire. “But this—this is about you.” He releases my wrist, his hand coming up to cup my jaw, stroking my cheek with a reverence that makes me tremble. “I am so fucking in love with you . . .”
My breath catches at the confession.
But . . .
“So, you only want me because of this fated mates thing?” My voice is small, full of a vulnerability I hate, voicing my deepest fear.
The question seems to break something in him. “No. The bond is just . . . how my soul recognized you. I want you because of who you are. I love you because of who you are. I would have loved you, with or without the bond.”
He sweeps his thumb tenderly across my cheekbone, tracing my features as though they’re something precious.
“I love you for the way your mind works. For the way you care about the people in your life. I love your laugh, especially when you think something is ridiculous. I love how your eyebrows squish together when you’re concentrating.
And how you challenge me, make me want to be .
. . better. And your damn bottomless curiosity.
” A fond chuckle erupts. “That determination to figure things out. You worked so hard to master your magic, even though it was all new to you and you were fucking terrified. I could smell the fear on you, but you did it anyway. And tonight? Taking on the echo-beast alone. Protecting all those people. You were . . .” he trails off, searching for a word big enough.
“Magnificent. So courageous, so powerful, so beautiful. I wanted to fall to my knees in front of you right there.”
His voice roughens, “I love you so much I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes. You are all I have been able to think about since the moment we met.”
Seeing myself through his eyes is a revelation.
He’s seen me at my worst, my best, and everything in between—and still he paints a portrait of a woman who is formidable and radiant.
But he doesn’t put me on a pedestal. He anchors that image in the imperfect, human reality of my squished eyebrows and stubborn curiosity.
It’s a version of me that feels brighter, stronger, and yet undeniably real.
The tightness that has constricted my chest begins to loosen. He isn’t seeing a biological imperative or a faceless mate. He sees me.
My whole life—with my father, with ex-boyfriends, even with friends—I have always been the one feeling too much. The one loving harder, caring deeper, waiting for the other person to catch up. I thought that’s what happened here. I thought I had overwhelmed him.
But looking at Kade now—frightened of losing me and trembling with the effort of holding himself back—it’s so clear that I was wrong. He never pulled away because he feels less than I do, or because my fire burns too brightly. He welcomes the fire. To him, the fire is beautiful.