“No,” she finally says with a slight shake of her head. It isn’t forceful, and not exactly angry either, just immediate, panicked denial. “There’s no way. Not us.”
“Yes, us. You feel it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means everything.”
All traces of previous bliss and subtle submission vanish at once, and she narrows her eyes at me. “We lost control.”
“We did more than that,” I counter, already able to feel the strange pulse of something new between us. “And you know it.”
She shakes her head again and shuffles back like she needs that distance between us to survive. “No. That’s not—no...”
I watch her carefully, well aware that she can feel it, regardless of her denial. The invisible connection isn’t just instinct or due to proximity. All of it comes back to her and us. Now, there is no me without her, and that thought is both damning and oddly satisfying.
“It was without ceremony,” I murmur, more to myself than to her. “I didn’t think that was still possible without—”
“Stop,” Naia snaps, more cutting now.
I look at her. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” she returns, pushing through the space between us to shove me back, putting her weight on me as her eyes burn into mine. “You’re not doing this.”
Caught off guard by the sudden dominance coming from her, my brows lift, and it takes great effort not to let my body react to her. Instead, I force out a strained breath, and I don’t push her off. “I’m not ‘doing’ anything. I’m telling you what happened.”
“No,” she says again, firmer this time as she leans closer. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Naia.”
“I’m not bonded to you.”
The words are forceful and definitive in a way that makes my inner wolf bristle, but underneath her refusal, I can feel theuncertainty. She isn’t immune to this; she just doesn’t want to name it.
I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair while I stay put, giving her this fragment of control for now. “Most wolves on the island would say it’s supposed to happen with ceremony. It’s about recognition, claiming, and witnesses.”
“Good,” she returns, pulling back just enough as if finally realizing how close she is to straddling my lap. “Then that means it didn’t happen.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“That’s exactly how it works.”
With a huffed breath, I shake my head. “No. That’s how they prefer it to work, but that doesn’t mean it’s the only way.”
Naia crosses her arms, still perched there like she’s bracing against something, yet unwilling to give me the upper hand. “This is ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why can’t you look at me and say you don’t feel it?” I counter, watching every subtle change in her expression while I look up at her.
The hard edge to her expression wavers briefly before it locks back into place, defiant and unable to back down. “I don’t feel anything I didn’t already feel before.”
It’s a lie, and we both know it.
“That wasn’t very convincing.”
“Maybe you’re just hearing what you want to hear.”
