He stared at me, clearly taken aback by my assertiveness. “It’s not that simple—”
“It is exactly that simple,” I interrupted. “You’re afraid of hurting me. I understand that. But pushing me away is hurting me more than any scratch ever could.”
“Julian…” His voice was pained, conflicted.
I softened my approach, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I love you, Mason. All of you—human and wolf. I’m not afraid of your strength or your wildness. I’m only afraid of losing you because you’re too scared to let yourself be who you really are with me.”
He was quiet for a long moment, studying my face in the dim light. “What if I lose control again?” he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “What if next time it’s worse?”
“Then we deal with it,” I said simply. “Together. Like partners do.”
Another silence stretched between us, less tense than before but still heavy with unresolved emotion. Then, tentatively, Mason reached out, his hand covering mine where it rested on the bed.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said softly.
“Probably not,” I agreed with a small smile. “But you’re stuck with me anyway.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I’m still scared,” he admitted. “Of what I might do. Of what I might become if I let go completely.”
“I know,” I said, turning my hand to lace our fingers together. “But I’m not scared of you, Mason. I never have been.”
He looked down at our joined hands, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. “Maybe that’s the problem,” he said quietly. “Maybe you should be.”
An idea began to form in my mind—radical, perhaps even risky, but potentially exactly what we needed. “Then show me,” I said, echoing my words from our argument days ago. “Show me why I should be afraid.”
He looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Show me your wolf,” I clarified. “Not the controlled, careful version I’ve seen before. Show me what you’re really capable of. What you’re afraid of.”
He pulled his hand away, shaking his head. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” I challenged. “If you truly believe I should fear you, then prove it. Let me see what you’re so afraid of letting loose.”
“This isn’t a game, Julian,” he said, an edge entering his voice. “You’re talking about me completely surrendering control of my wolf. That’s dangerous.”
“I trust you,” I said simply. “Even if you don’t trust yourself.”
He studied me for a long moment, conflict clear in his expression. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
I took a deep breath, committing to the plan forming in my mind. “Tomorrow night. Take me deep into the forest, somewhere private. Show me your wolf—all of it, no holding back. Let me see what you’re so afraid I’ll reject.”
“And if you do reject it? Reject me?” The vulnerability in his voice made my heart ache.
“I won’t,” I said with certainty. “But if I did—which I won’t—at least we’d know. This limbo we’re in is worse than any truth could be.”
He was quiet for so long I thought he might refuse. Finally, he nodded once, a sharp, decisive movement. “Alright. Tomorrow night. But we do this my way—with safety precautions.”
Relief washed through me. “Thank you,” I said, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “This is the right decision.”
He caught my wrist as I began to pull away. “Stay,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Not for… anything. Just to sleep. I’ve missed you.”
The simple admission melted the last of my anger. “I’ve missed you too,” I said, sliding under the covers beside him.
He pulled me close, his body curving around mine in a familiar, comforting way. For the first time in days, I felt the tension begin to leave my body. Whatever tomorrow brought, tonight we were together again, and that was a start.
Chapter 13
The next evening, Mason drove us deep into the forest, following logging roads that gradually deteriorated into little more than trails. He was quiet, focused, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I didn’t push conversation, understanding that he needed this time to prepare mentally for what we were about to do.
