Those words burn, but when I finally look at her, something shifts in my chest.
“You say that, but I don’t think even you believe it.”
Her brows pinch at that, but the longer I hold her gaze, the more her expression slips into something hesitant and unsure, like her own restraint is beginning to crumble.
With the smallest space between us, and my wolf silently nudging me to do something, I feel as the grip I keep on my self-control begins to loosen, and the proximity suddenly seems so stifling.
Swallowing hard, I take in her features, so damn tempted. I just want to throw myself at her. To feel and taste her skin. To ravish her so completely that neither of us can even remember what’s out of place between us.
But that would be crazy… I have to start small.
Slowly, almost like trying to tame a wild animal, I reach for her hand. Something warm and electric shoots up my arm the moment I touch her, and it’s enough to send a wave of unbridled need through me.
She’s frozen solid, completely unmoving. But her breath hitches, and for a moment, hope flickers in my chest.
I just want to lean in and kiss her… to help her see that she doesn’t need to resist it. We can embrace it and move forward. In time, it might even become what she wanted before.
Then her eyes burn into mine, and she pulls her hand away.
“I said what I said. Respect it, or sleep on the couch.”
Every syllable is scathing, but she’s right.
Steeling myself against the bruise to my ego, I turn away, forcing down the hunger raging inside me.
It’s too late.
Maybe it is, but the bond between us sure as hell doesn’t think so. Neither do I.
That agonizing silence stretches longer, and even if I was pushing my luck, something in me doesn’t want to leave it at that. I don’t want that ice between us to linger longer than it needs to.
“Good night, Lila.”
She doesn’t say a word in return, and try as I might, it takes forever for me to fall asleep with her heat and addictive scent so close to me.
***
It’s even worse this morning.
Somehow, the distance between us feels even sharper, but regardless of the bond persisting, she’s still ignoring it as fiercely as she can.
She moves around the cabin with quiet yet deliberate steps, expression tight and shoulders even tighter.
Standing by the window, looking outside, I glance back at her, along with the small kitchen table where her plate still sits. “You should eat something.”
“I’m fine.”
“You barely even looked at it.”
“I’m not hungry.”
As my patience begins to waver, I pull in a breath. “I don’t want you fainting in the woods today.”
Lila glares at me. “I don’t need your concern.”
“Too bad,” I mutter, taking a step closer. “You have it anyway. That’s how this works now.”
“I don’t want it.”
