Ryan's footsteps echoed down the obsidian corridors like the warning of an approaching storm. Every movement was jagged, raw, fueled by the surge of jealousy and the sting of the mate bond that Isabella had provoked without even touching him. His wolf prowled beneath his skin, claws scraping at his sanity. She is mine. Mine, and yet she dances with another? Disgrace. Insolence. Temptation.
He didn't slow until he reached the Moonbridge balcony, the night air rushing to greet him with the scent of pine and stone. The Convergence celebrations—the pomp, the music, the whispered politics—felt distant, irrelevant. What mattered now was her. Her laughter, her touch, her audacity.
And yet, he didn't allow himself to turn, didn't let himself see her yet. Fury and desire coiled together, a knot in his chest. She must explain herself. She must.
A soft footstep behind him—a whisper of silk on stone—made him stiffen. His muscles tensed, claws extending just beneath his skin. He didn't need to turn to know it was her. Isabella. The bond screamed her presence, warm and insistent, thrumming like a drum in his veins.
"Ryan." Her voice was low, controlled—but fragile beneath the veneer. "I didn't mean… I didn't want to push you like that."
He whirled, golden eyes flashing like molten metal, pupils narrowed to lethal slits. "You didn't mean? You danced with him! With Veyron! In the hall! While I watched! Did you think I wouldn't see? That I wouldn't feel every whisper, every touch, every—"
"Stop." Her hand shot up, trembling, and yet her gaze didn't waver. "Stop speaking as if I betrayed you. I didn't—"
"You fed on me, Isabella." The words came out ragged, a growl ripping through his throat. "You drained me, weakened me, made me… powerless! And now you… you flaunt your control over me in the open!"
Her chest tightened, and the pull of the bond hit her like a wave, clawing at her resolve. "Ryan, listen—"
"No!" His hand slammed against the railing, knuckles whitening. The force rattled the carved stone. "I will not listen. Not while you flaunt what you've done. Not while you provoke me with another Alpha's touch. Not while my wolf paces in frustration and rage because you teased me!"
The wolf within him growled, low and lethal, and she felt it. Deep in her chest, across the bond, it vibrated like rolling thunder. She dares. She tempts. She mocks.
Isabella's own pulse spiked. She stepped closer, ignoring the quiver in her limbs. "Ryan," she said, voice soft but unyielding, "I didn't tease you. Not like you think. Veyron asked—he asked politely. And I—"
"You danced!" he cut her off, gold flaring, claws flexing beneath the surface. "Every step, every laugh… every whisper in his ear was a knife to me! Do you know what it's like to watch her… with someone else, to hear her words meant for another Alpha?!"
She flinched—not from fear, but from the raw power in his presence. His wolf surged, pulling at her, demanding surrender, demanding acknowledgment, and yet Ryan himself was barely holding back. His body trembled with the tension, his chest heaving.
"I didn't—" she began again, but he stepped closer, shadow and light slicing over her, heat and fury burning between them.
"I don't want your excuses," he growled, voice low and deadly. "I want the truth. Why? Why do you always push me? Always test me? Always… this?"
The air between them pulsed with unspoken truths, with months of restraint and desire. She could feel him, every muscle, every pulse, every shiver of his wolfed instincts—he wanted her, needed her, and yet he was furious beyond measure.
Isabella swallowed, chest tight. "Because I can't… not now. Not with the Convergence tonight. My duty… the court…"
"The court doesn't matter!" he hissed, stepping so close that she could feel the heat of him through the layers of silk. "I matter! I am your mate, your Alpha! And yet… you let them see, let them think—"
"Think what?" Her voice was trembling now, raw, defiant, desperate. "That I am yours? That I—"
"Yes!" He roared, claws flexing beneath the skin, the wolf snarling with each syllable. "That you are mine! And yet you act like—like you… belong elsewhere?"
Her heart hammered, mouth dry. She could feel the bond thrumming violently between them, pulling her, dragging her closer, and yet she forced herself to remain just out of reach. "Ryan… I—"
He caught her wrist suddenly, gripping her arm with more strength than he had any right to after the night's exhaustion. "No more words," he snapped. "Feel this."
And the wolf in him growled, a deep, rolling vibration that shook her from within. She felt the warning, the threat, the claim. Mine. Mine. Mine.
"I—can't—" she whispered, trying to breathe, trying to regain control. Her claws itched. Her fangs trembled, her body a coil of restrained fire.
"I know," he growled. "I feel everything—your hunger, your restraint, your games. Every look, every laugh, every inch of silk brushing against another's skin…"
He released her wrist but didn't move back. The tension between them became almost tangible, a storm about to break.
Isabella swallowed, chest tight, voice trembling as she let herself speak the truth. "I wanted to… provoke you. To see if you would—if you could… control yourself, even after everything. Even after—"
"Even after I almost died by your teeth," he finished, voice low, lethal, golden eyes burning into hers. "Do you know what it's like to feel powerless to the one you love? To feel betrayed and bound and… drawn to them, even as your fury screams to tear them apart?"
Her knees weakened. She wanted to run into him, to submit, to soothe, to fight. Every instinct warred with the other.
The moon above shone like witness to their struggle, silver light spilling over the balcony. The wind tugged at their hair, their robes, their very control. She could feel the pull of him, raw and primal, tugging her toward him as fiercely as the wolf within him demanded dominance and claim.
Ryan's gaze softened slightly—but only barely, a glimmer of the man beneath the storm. "You are mine," he whispered, claws still flexed, wolf vibrating low beneath the surface. "And I will not… share you. Not in jest, not in dance, not in word, not in thought."
Her pulse thundered. "I know," she whispered back, and the words were both surrender and challenge.
The bond pulsed violently, a tide of hunger, power, and desire. Isabella trembled, claws pressing into his shoulders, fangs grazing his neck in instinctive need. Her wolf whined in anticipation, echoing the growl that vibrated through Ryan's chest.
"I am yours," she whispered, voice thick with need. "I have always been… yours."
Ryan's hands tightened, fingers digging into her sides, but he didn't move to kiss her—not yet. He wanted to hear her, to see her, to feel her willingly choose him. "Say it," he demanded, voice rough, golden eyes boring into hers.
"I—" She faltered, heart hammering. "I am yours. Mine. Only yours. Always yours."
That was all he needed. His lips crushed against hers in a kiss that was both claim and apology, both fire and forgiveness. Her hands went to his chest, feeling the rapid pulse of his heart, feeling the wolf beneath the surface, feeling the raw, unfiltered need that had been simmering for months.
The bond flared, hotter than the full moon above them. Their bodies pressed together, wolf and vampire, Alpha and Queen, fire and shadow. Every pull, every heartbeat, every shiver of their souls connected them in ways that words could never capture.
Ryan's wolf growled, low and possessive, and Isabella shivered, fangs grazing his jaw instinctively. "Mine," he whispered against her lips. "All of you… mine. Always."
"Yes," she breathed, voice trembling with the force of the bond. "All of me… yours."
The moon above shone brighter, as if witness to the claiming of their hearts, their souls, their fire. The storm outside the hall mirrored the storm between them—untamed, violent, beautiful.
And somewhere, far below, the court waited, unaware that the real Convergence—the collision of fire, blood, desire, and power—had already begun on the Moonbridge.