“You didn’t fail anyone,” I argue, settling the rabbit over the fire. “No one saw Zella coming. You need to stop blaming yourself.”
She nods, her gaze returning to the fire. I watch her, wondering what she’s thinking. Since that desperate kiss in the tunnels, we’ve maintained a careful distance during daylight hours. We talk about everything there is to share—except the electric tension that crackles between us whenever we get too close.
But at night, when we lay our makeshift bed of pine boughs beneath the stars, all pretense falls away. She curls against me, her back to my chest, her body fitting perfectly against mine. I wrap my arm around her waist, bury my face in her hair, and we pretend not to notice how my body responds to her closeness, how her breath catches when I pull her tighter.
Every night I tell myself I’ll keep my distance. Every night I fail.
The rabbit cooks slowly, filling the small clearing with its savory aroma. We eat in comfortable silence, watching the stars emerge above the trees.
“Will you stay?” Lithia asks suddenly, her voice quiet in the night.
My chest tightens, hope and fear warring inside me with brutal intensity.Stay.The word I’ve been desperate to hear, wrapped in careful politeness that makes my wolf snarl in frustration.
I look at her, surprised by the question. “At Shadowmist?”
She nods, not meeting my eyes. “For a while, at least. Ryker will want to thank you for helping me.”
Ryker. Not her. Not because she wants me here, but because her Alpha will feel obligated. The disappointment cuts deeper than it should, slicing through the fragile hope I’d been nurturing.
She’s asking me to stay, but only as a duty. It’s not good enough.
I rise from my position by the fire, crossing to where she sits with deliberate slowness. Her breath catches as I settle beside her—close enough that our thighs brush, close enough that I can smell the scent that’s been driving me slowly feral.
“Lithia.” My voice comes out rougher than intended. I canfeel the heat radiating from her skin, can hear the slight hitch in her breathing as I lean closer.
She turns to look at me, and I see it—that flicker of want she tries so hard to hide, the way her pupils dilate despite the firelight. She shivers, a soft sound escaping her throat that goes straight to my cock.
“If you’re asking me to stay,” I murmur, “ask for yourself, not your alpha.”
Her jaw tightens, and for a moment I think she’ll retreat behind her walls again. But she surprises me.
“Then stay. I’ve gotten used to having you around.”
My chest tightens.
“Geeze, Shadowmist. Way to beg,” I tease. “I’ll stay. For a while.”
She nods, and there’s a slight relaxation of her shoulders. We finish our meal in silence.
As night deepens, we prepare for sleep. The routine is familiar by now—lay out the pine boughs, bank the fire, check our surroundings one last time. But tonight, something’s different. The knowledge that tomorrow brings an end to our solitude hangs heavy between us.
I settle onto our makeshift bed, leaving space for her to join me. She stands for a long moment, gazing at the stars, before slipping in beside me. As always, she fits herself against me, her back to my chest, my arm around her waist.
Her scent—gods, her scent—is everywhere, in my mouth, in my lungs, drowning me in heat and wolf and the sharp, addictive edge of her need.
Her fingers slip under mine, guiding my hand up, over her ribs, over the beat of her heart, until I’m palming the soft weight of her breast.
I suck in a breath sharp enough to cut.
“Lithia,” I rasp—part warning, part plea.
“Kier, don’t.” She swallows. “Just… touch me. Please.”
Fuck.Fuck.
My cock throbs so hard it’s almost painful. My chest heaves, fighting to stay still, fighting to be a gentleman—but the moment she arches back, the curve of her ass grinding against me, I snap.
I slip my hand beneath her shirt, dragging my palm over bare skin, up to her nipple. It pebbles instantly, tight and eager, and I roll it between thumb and forefinger, relishing the strangled little sound she makes.
