Chapter 6 #2
She approaches me slowly, cautiously. But coming closer instead of backing away. When she reaches me, she kneels, and suddenly we're eye to eye. Her hand lifts again, that same tentative touch, but this time she's reaching for fur instead of skin.
Her fingers sink into the thick ruff at my neck. Gentle. Reverent. Like she's touching something holy.
"I'm not afraid of you," she breathes. Tears still stream down her face, but there's wonder in her voice. Awe. "I'm afraid of how much I want this to be real."
The mist swirls up again, and I shift back. Almost instantaneous—one moment wolf, the next moment kneeling in front of her in human form, naked and breathing hard and completely at her mercy.
"It's real." My voice is hoarse. "All of it. What ties us together. The pack. The magic. It's all real, Eliza. And you're standing in the middle of it, whether you planned to or not."
Her hand is still in my hair. She hasn't pulled back. Hasn't run. Her eyes search mine, and I see the moment she makes her choice. See the fear and logic lose to the pull neither of us can control.
"My aunt lived here for more than forty years," she says quietly. "Among you. Among all of this. And she survived. Thrived, even."
"Your aunt was extraordinary." I lean into her touch, can't help myself. "She understood what most humans never will. That we're not monsters. We're just... different. And difference doesn't mean danger."
"But there is danger." Not a question. "You keep warning me about threats. About things stirring up. About people worse than you."
"Yes." I won't lie to her. Can't, now that I've shown her the truth. "Your presence here is connected to old magic. Ancient forces that have been sleeping. I don't know why yet, or what they want, but I know you're part of it. And I know I'll die before I let anything hurt you."
She's quiet for a long moment. The sun continues to rise behind us, painting everything in gold. Finally, she speaks.
"I should run. Get the first ferry back to the mainland and then on a flight to London and forget any of this happened."
My heart stops. "I know."
"I should write this up. Break the story of the century. Document everything, expose it all to the world."
"I know." The words taste like ash.
"But I'm not going to do either of those things.
" Her hand tightens in my hair. "Because you're right.
I've felt this since the moment I saw you.
This pull. This recognition. And I don't understand it, and it terrifies me, but I also know...” She stops, swallows hard.
"I know I have to see where this goes. Even if it destroys me. "
The relief that crashes through me is almost painful. I surge forward, catch her face in my hands, rest my forehead against hers. "It won't destroy you. I swear it. I'll protect you from everything. Including myself, if that's what it takes."
"Don't." Her breath ghosts across my lips. "Don't protect me from you. That's the one thing I don't want."
She closes the distance. Kisses me with a fierceness that surges through my blood. I kiss her back, pour everything into it—the need, the bone-deep certainty that this woman is mine and I am hers and nothing else matters.
When we break apart, we're both breathless. The mate bond strengthens between us, fed by acceptance and choice and the beginning of something that will either save us both or destroy everything.
"What happens now?" she asks.
"Now we figure out what the hell is being summoned, why you're connected to it, and how to stop it before...” I stop myself, but she's already caught it.
"Before what?"
I meet her eyes. "Before worse things than Rafe find you in the dark."
Her eyes widen. "Worse things?"
"Much worse." I stand, pull her up with me. "The old magic your aunt documented? It's waking up. And when it does, everyone in Stormhaven—human and shifter alike—is going to have to choose."
"What side are you on?"
"Yours." The answer is immediate, absolute. "Whatever comes, whatever happens, I'm on your side. Always."
She looks at me for a long moment, then nods. "Then I guess you'd better teach me how to survive in a world full of monsters."
"You're not just surviving—you're adapting." I brush a strand of hair from her face, let my thumb trace her cheekbone. "And that terrifies me."
"Why?"
"Because adapting to our world means accepting you're part of it. There's no going back after that."
"Good," she says, and the steel in her voice makes me purr with approval. "I never wanted ignorance anyway. I want truth. All of it. No matter how dangerous."
I pull her close, wrap my arms around her, breathe in her scent mixed with mine. "Then truth is what you'll get. Starting with the pack meeting tonight. They need to know you know. And you need to meet the brothers who'll protect you almost as fiercely as I will."
"Almost?" There's humor in her voice now, teasing.
"Almost." I nip at her ear, feel her shiver. "Because none of them are bound to you the way I am. None of them would destroy everything for you. That's reserved for your mate alone."
She pulls back enough to look at me. "I still don't fully understand what that means. Mate."
"You will." I kiss her forehead, gentle. "I'll teach you. Show you. Spend the rest of my life proving it, if that's what it takes."
"The rest of your life?" Her eyebrow lifts. "That's a long time."
"Shifters live a bit longer than humans." I say it casually, but watch her face carefully. "We tend to stay healthier, age more slowly. My grandfather lived to a hundred and fifteen. I'll age, but I've got time."
The implications settle over her. I see her processing it, working through what that means for a mate bond between shifter and human. But she doesn't pull away. Doesn't reject it. Just nods slowly.
"One impossible thing at a time," she says. "Right now, I just need to process the fact that wolfshifters are real and I'm apparently fated to one."
"Fair enough." I press one more kiss to her temple, then force myself to step back. "Get some rest. Real rest. Tonight you meet the pack leaders, and I need you sharp."
"Will they accept me?" There's vulnerability in the question.
"They'll have no choice." My voice hardens. "You're mine. That makes you pack, whether they like it or not. And anyone who has a problem with it answers to me."
She studies my face, then nods. "Okay. But Declan?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time you show up at my door at four in the morning, maybe call first?"
I laugh, the sound surprising us both. "Deal. Though fair warning—when the mate bond fully settles, I'll be able to find you anywhere. Phone or no phone."
"That should probably terrify me."
"But it doesn't." I can smell the truth of it. "Does it?"
"No." She wraps her arms around herself, but she's smiling now. "It really doesn't. And that terrifies me more than anything else."
I grab my jeans and shirt from where I left them, pulling them on quickly. As I do, Eliza's eyes catch on something behind me—a weathered storage bench tucked against the house.
"My aunt kept that there," she says quietly. "I wondered why. There are clothes in it. Men's clothes in different sizes."
Understanding settles over her face as she realizes what that means. Maureen didn't just document shifters. She welcomed them. Provided for them.
"She was a good woman," I say, feeling the note in my pocket. "She understood what most humans never will."
I leave her standing on the porch, watching the sunrise. As I head back toward town, my wolf and I glory in the knowledge that our mate knows what we are and hasn't run.
Someone orchestrated this. Every step—Rafe's reveal, my confession, her acceptance. We thought we were making choices. But what if we've been following a script written by forces older and more dangerous than any of us?
My mate knows the truth now. And knowing changes her. Makes her part of this world. Part of whatever's waking up in the deep waters and old magic.
I wanted to protect her by keeping her ignorant. Instead, I've given her exactly what someone else wanted her to have.