I understood now. Understood why he'd spent the night outside my hiding spot without approaching. Why he'd warned me about Mercer instead of using the threat to manipulate me. Why he'd just beaten a man half to death and was now standing perfectly still, giving me space, letting me choose.
This was what it meant to be wanted instead of owned. To be protected instead of controlled. To have an alpha who would fight for you and then wait to see if you wanted him back.
I'd never had that before. Hadn't known it existed.
My body shook with heat and arousal and the overwhelming emotion of finally, finally being offered a choice.
I rose to my feet. My legs trembled beneath me, barely able to hold my weight. Min-ho's eyes tracked the movement but he stayed where he was, still as stone, every muscle in his body coiled tight with the effort of not crossing the distance between us.
He wanted me. I could see it in every line of his body, could smell it in the way his scent had sharpened with possessive hunger. But he was waiting. Holding himself back. Giving me the space to decide.
"If I run," I said, and my voice came out hoarse, wrecked, barely above a whisper, "will you catch me?"
Min-ho's breath caught. His hands curled into fists at his sides, then slowly uncurled. I watched him process the words,watched understanding dawn in his eyes. This wasn't rejection. This wasn't fear.
This was the only way I knew how to say yes.
I'd spent years being taken. Being used. Being claimed without consent by an alpha who saw me as property. I didn't know how to ask for what I wanted. Didn't have the language for desire that came from choice rather than obligation.
But I could give permission. I could offer myself as prey and trust that this alpha, this man, would catch me the way I needed to be caught.
"Dalvin." My name in his mouth, rough and reverent. He took one step toward me, then stopped himself. Held the line. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure I want you to chase me." I held his gaze, letting him see the heat burning in my eyes, the want that matched his own. "I'm sure I want you to catch me. Everything else... we'll figure out after."
Min-ho nodded. Once. Slow and deliberate. The promise in that single motion settled into my chest and stayed there, warm and certain.
"I'll catch you," he said. "I'll always catch you."
I turned and ran.
Not away from him this time. Toward the only future that made sense anymore. Toward the claiming I'd feared and craved in equal measure. Toward the alpha who had waited and watched and bled for me without ever asking for anything in return.
The forest blurred past me, green and gold and shadow. My bare feet found purchase on the soft earth, carrying me forward, carrying me home.
Behind me, I heard Min-ho start to follow.
And for the first time since Ashworth, running felt like freedom.
***
Chapter 8
Min-ho
Dalvin ran.
I let him go. Counted the seconds in my head, each one a small eternity, each one a test of the control I'd spent half my life building. One. Two. Three. His white linen disappeared into the trees, flashing between the trunks like a ghost, like a dream I'd been chasing since I was eighteen years old.
Twenty seconds. Thirty. Forty.
His scent hung in the air behind him, a trail of bergamot and desperate heat that called to every primal instinct I possessed. My hands shook with the effort of staying still. My cock strained against my pants, already hard, already aching, already demanding what my mind refused to take without permission.
Fifty seconds. Fifty-five.
I could hear him crashing through the underbrush. Not quiet. Not strategic. He wasn't trying to hide. He was trying to be caught.
Sixty.
