ANDREW
The wind sighed against the face of the cliff, chill and biting under twilight. The sky split lilac and gold above, stars beginning to wink into place, while the wolfsbane around the trees capered like soft admonishments in the wind.
I leaned against the railing of the clearing, arms braced against the railing of the old treehouse that had long since outlived the one who'd built it. It creaked under the weight of memory, a stilted sentinel watching the world from the safety of shadows. I liked it here. I did now.
The treehouse was once a secret. Mine. Then ours. Now? I wasn't certain what it was anymore.
I adjusted the hem of my dark cloak, the fabric brushing against my boots. Beneath it, the training shirt I'd half-forgotten to change out of clung to my frame, still damp at the collar from earlier exertions. My hair, messier than usual, caught the breeze, and my jaw ached slightly from how long I'd been clenching it.
Waiting.
Hoping.
The air carried the mildest sting of wolfsbane, but I'd adapted by now. Drove others off. Offered us the privacy that no other place in Furstone would.
I hadn't dared hope he'd even come.
And yet… I waited. Because I had to believe that even after everything—after tension and distance and denial—Jamie felt it too.
The pull. The link.
I exhaled a deep, slow breath and let my mind wander.
What if I talked to my father? If I stepped up to Alpha Jackson and said, "It's Jamie. It's always Jamie"?
Would he perceive the truth? Or the threat?
I knew what the Elders would say to me. What would Maelin say?
It's been nearly a year since the Choosing. I should have mated by now—should have proven myself worthy of the Goddess's blessing. An Alpha without a mate was seen as incomplete. Unworthy to ascend to the upper ranks. Unstable.
What if the Goddess had made a different choice?
What if all that we'd studied about Lunaris wolves was a fabrication?
The tale had been passed down as a warning: Two male wolves, once one, caused destruction. One grew dark. The other lost himself to grief. A set of matched cursed unions. A lesson in imbalance.
But suppose that wasn't the whole story?
Suppose they were framed.
Suppose power wasn't the danger, but fear of power?
I knew what I felt. And I knew Jamie. Gods, did I know him.
His laughter, when he finally let it out, was alive. And when he was silent—when his defences were down—there was a gentleness in him that made me want to be someone worthy of it. He wasn't the son of an Alpha or the heir of a Beta. He wasn't bred in courts or on bloodlines.
But he was good.
Innocent, in ways I wasn't. Daring, in ways I didn't always understand. And maybe that's what scared me most. Because when I thought about what my future was going to be like, I kept imagining him there.
Even if this wasn't the life I'd always wanted for myself. I couldn't imagine it with anyone else.
Happy, I thought, with a sour twist of surprise. I want him to be happy.
But could I do that?
Could we be happy?
I didn't know. And that made my next thought all the more perilous.
Is this… love?
A snap in the trees. A change in the air.
Then scent.
Familiar. Unmistakable. His.
My wolf stirred right away, lifting its head within me, ears up, and pounding heart with an appetite I'd only just restrained for weeks. It whined, the sound low and plaintive and ridiculous, considering that it came from the most deadly predator within the region.
I laughed. Gentle, sceptical. "Seriously?" I growled. "This is the one you'd sacrifice for?"
My wolf didn't complain.
I stepped toward the railing just as the trees parted, and my breath caught.
JAMIE POV
Getting there had been the easy part.
Ann had helped. Of course, she had. She always saw more than she let on, and when I'd asked her—quietly, awkwardly if she knew a way to the treehouse without being seen, she'd only nodded and told me to follow.
We hadn't spoken much. Didn't need to.
Now she was gone, gliding back down the trail toward the main roads as I stood near the last bend of trees. My hand against the trunk of an ancient oak, heart thudding like it wanted to shatter its way out.
I had no idea what to anticipate.
Had no idea whether I should be angry, or hurt, or hopeful, or… everything.
Andrew's voice still echoed in my head. That please. That hurt.
I'd instructed myself not to go.
But already, I was there.
The grass lengthened here outside, and the slope to the treehouse snuck up like a held breath that lasted too long. I pulled at my hoodie, tugging it close, as I advanced, every slow, defensive step of the way.
And then I scented him.
Before I'd even laid eyes on him.
The strength. The cord. That strange, fierce heat only awakened around him. My wolf halted. Guarding.
Then whimpered.
I stilled. Then let out a shuddery, choked laugh. "Pathetic," I whispered, my voice trembling. But I didn't turn away.
I skirted the final bend.
And there he stood.
On the threshold of the treehouse, bathed in the fading light. Hair tousled. Face pulled taut with something I couldn't put my finger on. And for the wildest, most desperate second, I didn't care what had happened or what still might.
I ran to him.
Not because I was sure. Not because it made sense.
But because I had to.
Because this was the one place I'd ever felt safe.
And Andrew was already opening his arms as if he'd been holding back for an eternity to wrap me up.
His arms enveloped me as soon as I approached, and gods, it was coming home.
Heat enveloped me—sharp and sudden—like every nerve in my body all at once recalled how to be alive. It wasn't comfort, precisely. It was a connection. Complete and deep, and terrifying in the best way. My breath stopped. My hands clenched on his shirt. And then—
It did it again.
That jolt. That spark.
The same sensation I'd felt that night by the lake, when his mouth first touched mine and the world had turned.
But this was stronger. More ferocious.
My wolf burst forward with a strength that made my knees shake. I gasped as a shiver ran up my spine, and the periphery of my vision went gold. My eyes—gods, they were glowing. I could feel it.
I wasn't shifting.
But my wolf was all the way here, all the way present, and I knew Andrew felt it, too.
Because the next moment, his hand rose—slowly, adoringly—and cupped the shape of my face.
His thumb rubbed the skin just below my eye. "Beautiful," he breathed, his voice low and grating with something I couldn't identify.
Then his wolf stirred.
And everything shifted again.
Power radiated off him like an unspoken wave. Not cruel—but unrefusable. His eyes darkened, deepened, until red light flared in their centers like fire beneath the blood.
Eyes of an Alpha.
A superior.
All of me reacted at once. Not out of fear.
In reverence.
I whined—soft and primal—my head dipping just a little, baring my neck without knowing. Not to submit. Not at all. But because my wolf saw his. Respected him. Craved him.
And then—
Before thought came between us, before hesitation could prevail—
His lips hit mine.
And everything within me stilled.
Then roared.
Then disappeared.
The kiss was flame and breath and need all twisted into one. Deep. Demanding. Hungry. His fingers wrapped around my waist, pulling me toward him until there was no room left between us, and even then, it wasn't close enough. My hands curled into his hair, keeping him there, needing the touch like oxygen.
He kissed as though he was signing me to memory. As though he were starved, and I was the only thing that would satisfy.
And gods—I hungered for him to.
His tongue moved across mine, languid and tantalising, before growing deeper with a shudder that shook his chest and echoed into mine. I moaned—soft, helpless—feeling my whole body thrum like I was on the brink of something vast.
Something unfixable.
That's when I felt it.
Pushed between us. Still clothed, but very true.
Hard. Hot. Desiring.
My breath was glued to his lips.
A thousand ideas flashed simultaneously—fear, curiosity, that acrid, burning desire—but they all dissolved the instant he breathed my name like a vow and kissed me again.
I wasn't prepared. Not yet.
But I desired this.
I desired him.
His smell. His power. The way his hands softened when I shook. The way he tracked each change in my body was as if he had tuned in to every breath I breathed.
I let him take charge.
Let his mouth lead mine.
Let the flames rage—until it wasn't about wolves or bonds or prophecy any longer. It was about us. This moment. This spot. This impossible, fearful, beautiful tug between two hearts that were never meant to meet. But did.