DOMINIC
I watched Lena take a step away from me, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, chin tilted in defiance. Stubborn—so damn stubborn. Every time she tried to put space between us, the bond snapped taut, pulling at something deep and primal inside me.
"I'm not going back in there," she said, glaring at the bedroom door like it had personally betrayed her.
I exhaled, rubbing a hand down my jaw. "Lena."
"No." Her voice cut through the air. "I'll sleep on the floor, in the hallway, in the pantry if I have to—but not with you."
She didn't get it, didn't understand the turmoil her body would go through if she kept denying the bond, if she distanced herself without completing it.
I stepped forward. She stepped back. A little dance neither of us could win, just aching tension and a pull neither of us could ignore.
I didn't have the patience for this. "Enough," I muttered, and in one fluid motion, I closed the space between us and lifted her effortlessly over my shoulder.
"What the—Dominic!" she shrieked, fists thumping my back. "Put me down right now!"
"Not happening," I said, my hand gripping her thighs to keep her from squirming free—though every twist of her body against mine tested my patience and restraint.
"You are infuriating!"
"And you're not safe." I said it quietly, but the weight behind my words silenced her. I waved a hand to Lucas in dismissal, his steps already fading behind me, and I didn't look back.
I strode into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed without ceremony. She landed with a bounce, hair in disarray, fury in her eyes.
"You arrogant—"
I leaned over her, bracing my hands on either side of her head, cutting off the rest. Her breath hitched, her eyes locked with mine.
"You're not just anyone anymore, Lena," I said, voice low and rough. "You're my mate. And that means other packs—rogues, too—they'll be able to scent it. They'll know you're tied to someone powerful. Someone they might want to hurt."
She stilled beneath me, the fight dimming just slightly in her expression.
"They'll get curious," I continued. "Wonder who you are, wonder if you're weak. Wonder if taking you would make me bleed, would bring me down."
"And would it?" she whispered.
I stared at her, the truth far too big to hide. "Yes."
For a moment, the space between us felt fragile—threaded with something terrifying and intimate. Her gaze flicked to my mouth, and mine to hers, both of us strung tight.
I forced myself to back away before I did something reckless, turning toward the adjoining bathroom. "You need a bath."
"I need a damn restraining order," she muttered.
I didn't respond, just filled the tub and added a calming lavender oil I knew would help ease the tension she refused to admit was in her bones. When I turned, she was perched on the edge of the bed, watching me like I might lunge at her again.
"I'm not getting in there with you standing over me like some creep," she said.
I chuckled. "I'll turn around." I crouched in front of her, brushing my knuckles along her knee. "Let me take care of you, Lena."
Her expression flickered. But finally, she nodded. "Fine. Just don't peek."
I turned, listening to the sound of her slipping into the bath, water sloshing gently. Only when I was sure she was submerged did I return and kneel beside the tub.
"Your hair's a mess," I said, reaching for a comb.
"You're a mess," she muttered, but she didn't pull away when I started working through the knots.
Her body slowly eased, tension slipping away despite her best efforts.
"You're different like this," she said quietly.
"Like what?"
"Like you care."
I stilled, setting the comb aside, and cupped her chin, gently turning her face to mine. "I do care. More than I should. More than you're ready for."
She looked away, lips pressed together.
She looked away, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You don't even know me."
I stared at her for a long moment, the weight of her words settling deep. I could have argued. Could have told her that knowing her wasn't just about facts and memories—it was about the way she fit against me, the way my world shifted every time she was near. But I didn't. Because she wasn't ready to hear it.
"You can't leave, Lena," I said softly. "Not just because I don't want you to. Because it's not safe now. Not with the mark of our bond on your skin and my enemies out there sniffing for weakness. You'd be a target."
"But you said I could go wherever I wanted."
"Inside the estate," I said gently. "Anywhere you want. But beyond that? Not without me and not ever alone."
She didn't answer. She didn't have to.
A knock at the door drew my attention.
"Lucas?" I called.
He pushed the door open and muttered, "Thank God you're clothed."
"What is it?"
"Southern border breach. Team One's already out, but I figured you'd want to see it for yourself."
Of course. I'd just found my mate—and the universe wasted no time reminding me how vulnerable that made us both.
I knelt beside the tub again, reaching for Lena's hand. She blinked at me, surprised.
"Stay," I said. Not a command but a plea.
Her lips parted, her breath unsteady. "Okay."
I let out a quiet breath of relief, dropping my head to the cool porcelain. "Thank you."
As I turned to leave, I paused at the door. "Evan's on his way. He'll keep you safe while I'm gone."
"To keep me from running?"
"To keep others from getting to you," I corrected, meeting her gaze. "There's a difference."
Her brow creased. "So I'm a prisoner now?"
"No." My voice dropped. "You're mine. And that makes you a prize some would kill for."
I left the room, heart pounding harder with every step. In the hallway, Evan was already waiting.
"She going to be a problem?" he asked.
I gave him a tight smile. "Only if she leaves."
He saluted me good-naturedly, and I shoved by, ready to tear apart whoever was stupid enough to come into my territory uninvited.