Five years taught me to find my voice, to stop trembling, to resist the mate bond.
I had been weak, too stunned to fight back, when the Moonbound pack attacked me for wandering into their territory. Then came AJ — he saved me, took me in, gave me shelter and a family that dotes on me, that never questions me.
For five years I trained with him and his warriors until my body hardened, until my hands no longer shook. I met Sarah through the Alpha academy, a place I could never have joined back then with a dormant wolf, too weak in everyone's eyes. Those years I carried my shame and my pain, and I forged strength out of both.
The wolf bond is my enemy now, not Elijah or his pointless stories about some cursed woman. Heat coils low in my body, but everyone marks their mate at the neck. That doesn't make me less myself.
Elijah is already planting words to draw me back. I won't let it happen. I can't.
"How did you find my apartment?"
I'd covered my scent with Aj's help, layered tricks so no Thorn or Crescent tracker could follow me. So how did he?
"I followed you," he sighed. His shoulders slumped, his gaze dropped to the floor. He looked hollow, almost pitiful. Almost. Then I remembered what he did to me.
"This will not happen again. The kiss. You coming to my window." My head shook, but my shoulders stayed square, my eyes fixed on the wall. I have a different life now. I am not the girl I was five years ago. I will not bow for him.
The heat began before the rejection — subtle at first — but the more I stayed apart from my mate, the more I dreamed of him: his lips hovering between my legs. I knew he felt it too.
But I'm not Alexia. I will not be her. Whatever he says about that woman, I don't care. Not ever again.
"I made a mistake," I blurt, eyes shut.
I hear Elijah inhale before he speaks, each word a struggle. "Don't. Please..."
When I open my eyes I look straight at him, into those near-watery blue irises.
"This is goodbye, Elijah."
"No.."
"Don't you see?" I stand. The lioness in me is back; my hazel eyes pin him the same way they did in the wedding hall. "Don't you see, Elijah? Pain is our language. It's better if we never see each other again."
"And the bond?" He steps forward. I raise a hand and he stops. His chest heaves. He doesn't want this to end — not the small intimacies we shared. Too bad. It won't happen again.
I cross my arms over my chest. "Damn the bond, Elijah," I whisper. "We can go mad for all I care, or the moon goddess will give me a new mate."
"Diana, you can't… you can't resist it. I feel it too.."
"I can." My voice rose, maybe above the ceiling, but I didn't care. He needed to leave. "I can resist it. I've resisted it for five years. I've lived like you don't exist, and I'll do it again."
I shut my eyes, fighting the tears pressing at the corners. Damn him. He doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as me, yet I let him in.
"You can't be here. Don't come again."
When I opened my eyes, he was shaking his head, gaze dark, narrowed—not at me, but at the floor.
"It's my fault," he muttered. "If only I had…" He dragged in air, words choking off like they weighed too much. He could give me a reason, but he wouldn't.
His hands trembled as he stepped closer. I wanted to move back, but I held my ground. If I had to resist him, it had to be now. But Elijah didn't touch me. He only stared at his feet and spoke in the lowest tone I'd ever heard.
"I hate what I did to you. You deserve better."
"I know." My arms stayed crossed, my eyes hard.
"I should walk away," he said, sighing, raking a hand through his hair. "I want to. But I can't—not while you're still in danger."
"I can take care of myself," I snapped. If he thought I was about to give him a chance… "Forget the past few hours. We didn't cross paths."
He finally looked at me. I hovered on the edge of wanting to plead and wanting to turn away — his eyes roamed my face, pain carved into them, and for a second my chest softened. I almost asked if he was all right. Then memory slammed back: he never sought me, never fought for me. Even with my scent hidden, he could have easily found me. He is Alpha for a reason.
"I can protect you," he whispered.
"I have Aj," I said.
He shook his head, more hurt flickering across his face, then nodded and stepped back. "You're right. I don't deserve to be here." His voice came out rough, as if each word cost him. "But if you ever need anything… you can come to me."
"I hope it never comes to that." My answer was flat.
He didn't reply. He turned toward the window. I followed, half-expecting him to hide in some corner of my apartment, but he climbed to the sill, looked at me once, and jumped down into the dark.
The breath I'd been holding left me in a long, shaky sigh. I crouched, arms around my knees, my chest hammering. It was so hard .. so, so hard to resist, to not beg him to stay back.
"Oh.." A moan tore out of me as the heat surged, crawling harder and making my toes curl. I could barely hold on.
We need his bite.
My vision sharpened. I stared at the concrete floor, trying to anchor myself. My wolf—did she…?
"Ah!"
A hard throbbing rolled under my skin, like something clawing to get out.
"Ah!"
My knees gave. I crumpled to the floor, unable to hold it in any longer.