I feel satisfied in a way I’ve never experienced. Not just the physical satisfaction of good sex—though it was definitely that—but something deeper. A rightness that terrifies me more than any Thornridge threat.
Because I gave myself to him. Completely. Without reservation. I violated every principle of Llewelyn independenceand emotional control by surrendering to desire and letting someone else see me at my most undone.
The thought makes panic crawl up my throat.
I need space. Need to think without the mate bond muddling everything and figure out what last night means before I have to face him and pretend I have any idea what I’m doing.
I slip out from under his arm as carefully as possible. He mumbles something in his sleep but doesn’t wake. Small mercies. I gather my scattered clothes from the floor—evidence of how desperate we both were—and flee to the guest room before he can open his eyes and see the confusion I know is written all over my face.
The shower runs hot enough to scald me, but it doesn’t wash away the questions tangling my thoughts. Did I make that choice last night, or did the mate bond make it for me? How do I tell the difference between real emotion and supernatural coercion? Between who I really am and who the curse has made me?
I stand under the spray until the water runs lukewarm, then force myself to dry off and get dressed. Running away to the guest room like a scared child won’t solve anything. Eventually, I’ll have to face Reeyan. Have to figure out what last night means for us going forward.
If it means anything at all beyond satisfying biological urges.
I take my time getting ready, delaying the inevitable. Brush my hair. Find clean clothes in the bag Raegan brought yesterday when she dropped my car off after having rescued it from where I abandoned it. Stare at my reflection in the mirror and try to recognize the woman looking back.
She has the same silver-blonde hair. Same pale blue eyes. Same face I’ve seen every day for twenty-four years.
But something has changed. I can see it in the way I hold myself. In the flush still coloring my cheeks. In the mark Reeyan left on my neck, where he bit down during one of my orgasms.
I’m not the same woman who arrived here five days ago. Not the same reserved, controlled Llewelyn archivist who knew exactly who she was and what she valued.
That woman wouldn’t have kissed a man she barely knew or let him take her apart piece by piece until she was begging for more. She definitely wouldn’t have felt the kind of soul-deep satisfaction still running through my veins this morning.
So, who am I now?
I don’t have an answer. Just more questions that multiply faster than I can sort through them.
When I finally emerge from the guest room, voices drift from the kitchen. Male voices. More than one.
I freeze in the hallway. Who else is here?
“—think you’re keeping her safe, but you’re playing with fire.” The unfamiliar voice carries an edge of warning. “The curse isn’t going to let her go without a fight.”
“I’m aware of the risks.” Reeyan sounds tired. “But breaking it is the only way to protect her long-term.”
“And completing the mate bond? Was that part of your brilliant protection strategy, or did you just lose control?”
My stomach drops. They’re talking about last night. About what Reeyan and I did.
“That’s none of your business, Axle.”
Axle. Reeyan mentioned him before. Another Grayhide pack member. Someone he trusts.
“It becomes my business when you’re making decisions that could destabilize inter-pack relations.” Axle doesn’t sound angry, just concerned. “Matriarch Lydia isn’t going to take kindly to learning you claimed her niece without a formal courtship.”
“Sera isn’t a prize to be claimed. She made her own choice.”
“Did she? Or did the mate bond make it for her?” Axle’s question mirrors my own doubts so perfectly that it makes me flinch. “The curse has been suppressing her ability to feel for her entire life. How does she know what she actually wants versus what the bond is pushing her toward?”
“She knows. Don’t underestimate her just because she’s been living under magical suppression. Sera is smart and capable and perfectly able to make her own decisions.”
“I’m not underestimating her. I’m worried about her.” Footsteps move across the kitchen. “And I’m worried about you. You’ve never been this invested in anyone before. Never let anyone get close enough to matter. Now you’re risking everything—your position, your pack relationships, your research—for a woman you met just over a week ago.”
“She’s my mate.”
“She’s a Llewelyn omega whose pack is under a three-hundred-year-old curse, being targeted by an enemy force that wants to exploit that curse, and you just completed a bond that could make breaking said curse exponentially more dangerous for both of you.” Axle sighs. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have claimed her. I’m saying you need to think about the consequences before they blow up in your face.”
