“And you still want him.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not biology, Nadia. That’s a bond.”
“I know.” The admission hurts. “I know, and it terrifies me.”
My wolf surges in approval. Finally. Finally admitting the truth.
“What did your wolf say?” Ember asks quietly.
“She’s been howling ‘mate’ since we met him. Since before the heat even started. She’s furious I pushed him away.”
“What are you afraid of?”
The question hits hard. Direct. Forcing me to examine what I’ve been avoiding.
“That he’ll destroy me,” I say. Raw honesty. “That I’ll let myself have this and he’ll—” I can’t finish.
“Leave? Betray you? Hurt you the way losing Chance hurt?”
“Yes. All of it. I can’t survive that again.”
Ember reaches over and covers my hand with hers.
“My mother defected from the Syndicate,” she says. “A lot of people doubted her at first. Thought she couldn’t be trusted. That she’d betray Aurora eventually.”
I know this story. Vanya is one of Aurora’s most trusted operatives now.
“But she didn’t,” Ember continues. “She proved them wrong. Earned trust. Became part of the Collective. Sometimes people surprise you. Sometimes the thing that seems impossible is actually the only thing that makes sense.”
“He killed Chance,” I say again. Need her to understand. “How do I reconcile that? How do I let myself want him, knowing what he did?”
“I don’t know.” Honest. “I don’t have that answer. But I know heat cycles don’t lie. If your wolf recognized your mate, there’s a reason. Even if you don’t understand it yet.”
“What if I’m wrong? What if I destroyed something real because I was scared?”
“How did he respond to you today? In the briefing?”
I remember. That half-second when our eyes met. The way I wanted to reach out.
“He looked away first,” I say. “Cut me off before I could—”
“Maybe he was protecting himself, too,” Ember suggests. “Maybe he’s as terrified as you are.”
The thought hadn’t occurred to me. That maybe his coldness wasn’t rejection. Maybe it was defense. Maybe he was barely holding himself together, the same way I am.
“He didn’t fight when I said it was nothing,” I point out. “Just accepted it and went cold.”
“What else was he supposed to do? You told him you didn’t need him. That it meant nothing. Why would he fight that?”
“Because—” I stop. Don’t have an answer.
“Because you wanted him to fight for you?” Ember’s voice is gentle. Not accusing. “You wanted him to prove it mattered to him, too?”
“Maybe.” Probably. “I don’t know what I wanted.”
“What do you want now?”
