The scent of him changed subtly—deepened, warmed. A response he couldn't control any more than I could control the way my pulse quickened beneath his gaze. Some things ran too deep for denial, no matter how much we tried to bury them.
The candle on his desk guttered, casting strange shadows across his face. For a moment, he looked older than his twenty-five years. Weathered by responsibility and loss. By the burden of leading a territory in turmoil. By the agony of a severed bond that refused to heal. Lines I didn't remember etched the corners of his eyes. A new heaviness settled in the set of his mouth.
And then… he spoke again, this time softer, but far more dangerous.
"You're in my house now, little healer. Remember that."
Little healer.
My fingers twitched.
I could've pushed him away.
I could've summoned the power. The gift that made alphas like him seek me out when all other options failed. The reason he'd called for me now, despite everything between us. I could've burned him from the inside out. Could've made him regret ever summoning me to his place.
I didn't.
I couldn't.
Because despite everything — despite the pain, the history, the months of silence — his presence still ignited something inside me I didn't know how to put out.
The bond pulsed again — harder this time.
A beat behind my heart.
A drum inside my veins.
I felt it flare between us, that invisible tether. That sacred, terrible connection that should have been our strength but had become our greatest weakness. The thing that had drawn us together against all odds and all sense—Alpha and Healer, power and mercy, strength and tenderness. The thing we'd tried to destroy but couldn't quite kill.
"I'm not afraid of you," I whispered.
It wasn't entirely true. I wasn't afraid of him hurting me—not physically. But I feared what he could still do to the heart I'd carefully pieced back together in his absence. I feared the pull between us that defied logic and self-preservation.
His grip on my arm didn't loosen.
But something in his expression shifted.
Not surprise.
Something deeper.
Want.
Raw and unfiltered. The kind that made my skin heat despite everything. The kind we didn't know how to admit — even now. It blazed in his eyes for just a moment before he banked it—a fire he couldn't quite extinguish.
His eyes moved over my face, lingering on the changes three months had wrought. The shadows beneath my eyes that spoke of sleepless nights. The new determination in my gaze. The slight hollowness to my cheeks that hinted at meals missed or forgotten.
Then his eyes fell closed for half a second. Like that was the only way he could stop himself from doing something worse. Something we'd both regret. Something we'd both crave.
When he opened them again, the gray had darkened to slate. His pupils had dilated, black nearly swallowing the iris. A reaction he couldn't control.
"I shouldn't have called for you," he muttered.
The words seemed torn from him. An admission that cost him. An acknowledgment that some wounds were better left untouched.
I raised my chin. "Then why did you?"
The question hung between us, charged with implication. Why now, after all this time? What crisis had finally driven the proud Alpha to summon the one person he'd sworn never to need again?
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stepped back — slowly — his hand leaving my arm like it physically hurt to let go. Like breaking contact was its own form of pain.
The absence of contact was almost worse than the hold.
Cold air rushed into the space between us, making me shiver. Making me aware of how warm he'd been. How solid. How real after so many nights of dreaming him, of waking with the phantom weight of his touch still on my skin.
I could still feel the imprint of his fingers on my arm. Still smell the warmth of him.
Still sense his restraint hanging in the air like smoke.
He moved back to his desk, putting that solid barrier between us once more. A physical manifestation of everything that separated us now. His movements were stiff, controlled, as if he didn't trust himself to be fluid anymore. As if his body had forgotten how to move naturally in my presence.
"You can stay in the east wing," he said, voice hoarse now. "A room's been prepared."
The east wing. As far from his chambers as possible while still keeping me under the same roof. Still close enough to monitor. Close enough for the bond to maintain its torturous presence but far enough to avoid accidental encounters in darkened hallways or shared spaces.
I said nothing.
"I'll have someone escort you."
Still nothing.
He ran a hand through his dark hair. The silver streaks at his temples caught the fading light. Evidence of stress. Of power untethered. Of magic turned inward with nowhere else to go. The price of his position made visible.
"I—" He paused, jaw tight. "Don't leave the estate."
Not a request. An order, despite how he tried to soften it. The Alpha in him couldn't help but command, even now. Even with me. Especially with me—the one person who had defied him when it mattered most.
I stepped away from the wall at last, brushing my cloak back into place. The fabric whispered against my skin, a comfort in its familiarity. I straightened my spine, reclaiming my dignity piece by piece.
"Or what?" I challenged.
Our eyes locked again.
A muscle jumped in his cheek. His hands flexed at his sides. For a moment, I thought I saw something shimmer beneath his skin—the shadow of his wolf, trapped and raging. Desperate to emerge. Desperate to claim what had once been his.
He didn't answer.
Because we both knew.
There was no threat he could make worse than what had already passed between us.
And no promise he could make that I'd believe.
But still… he had summoned me.
And I had come.
Whether out of curiosity or some deeper, more dangerous emotion, I had answered his call. Had crossed territories. Had returned to the place where my heart had been shattered and my trust betrayed. To the man who had once been everything for a single second and then, nothing.
Because despite it all, despite the pain and betrayal — a part of me still belonged to him. A part I couldn't sever, couldn't heal, couldn't burn away. A part that responded to his presence like a compass finding north, inevitable and unwelcome.
And judging by the tortured look in his eyes, by the way the bond between us hummed with shared agony, he felt it too.
Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance. A storm approaching—nature mirroring the tension between us. The wind picked up, rattling the window frames, carrying the scent of rain and wild things.
Without another word, I turned and walked to the door.
My hand hesitated on the handle, fingers curling around cool metal. Part of me wanted to look back. To see if his mask had slipped again. To catch one more glimpse of the vulnerability he showed no one else. To memorize the changes in him as if they were a language I could decipher if I studied long enough.
I didn't.
I pulled the door open and stepped through, letting it close with a soft click behind me.
I could feel his eyes on my back the whole time.
And the bond?
It pulsed once more.
Not in pain.
In warning.
In promise.
Whatever had brought me to his territory, whatever danger loomed on the horizon — it was nothing compared to the danger of us. Of what remained unresolved between Alpha and Healer. Between man and woman. Between two halves of a bond that refused to break, no matter how hard we'd tried to shatter it.
The hallway stretched before me. The tapestries adorned the walls, depicting hunts and battles and moments of pack history. The ornate sconces held dancing flames. The polished floors reflected my movement like dark water.
A young woman waited a respectful distance away—my escort, no doubt. She wore the colors of Kael's inner circle but not the confidence. Her eyes widened slightly as they met mine, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. She'd heard stories about me. About us. They all had.
As I followed the silent servant down the familiar halls of Kael's estate, my mind raced with questions he hadn't answered. And how could I protect myself from the pull between us that had nearly destroyed me once before?
I knew with bone-deep certainty:
This time, one of us wouldn't survive it.
The storm outside grew closer, the first drops of rain striking the windows like delicate warnings. Like tears. Like promises.
And beneath it all, beneath the tension and the anger and the unspoken attraction, something darker stirred. Something waiting in the shadows of Kael's territory. Something that had broken the mighty Alpha's pride enough to call for help.
Something that knew exactly where to find us both.