Chapter 24
My beast stirred, clearly not satisfied.
It wasn’t gentle, not a slow waking–it was a force, raw and insistent, clawing at the walls of my control. My wolf wanted her. Needed her.
Every part of me did.
I sat up, running a hand through my hair, the memory of her scent lingering at the edges of my mind. It was maddening how easily it overpowered my senses, how it lingered like an addiction I couldn’t shake. She wasn’t even here, and yet her presence was everywhere–in the way my chest ached, in the burning need that twisted low in my stomach, in the restless energy that made sitting still impossible.
“Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck as I stood.
The wolf pushed harder, growling in frustration. It wanted to see her. Smell her. Touch her. And if I was being honest with myself, I wanted it too. Hell, I craved it just as much.
My wolf didn’t understand boundaries or reason. It didn’t care that being near her would only make things worse, that it would tear apart the fragile balance I was barely holding onto. No, it was selfish, primal. And right now, it was winning.
The longer I stayed away, the more I felt like I was unraveling. Losing myself.
Losing my mind.
I paced the bathroom, my movements jerky and agitated, the walls feeling too close, too constricting. Everything about this was wrong. I had spent my entire life resisting bonds, fighting against the idea that I could ever belong to someone. And yet here I was, completely consumed by her.
And my father would kill me if he ever found out.
Werewolves didn’t bond with humans. It was unheard of, a taboo so deeply ingrained in our pack’s laws that it might as well have been written in stone. To him, mating with a human wasn’t just forbidden–it was a betrayal of everything we stood for.
And I wasn’t against the idea.
But I didn’t want to be bound with a werewolf either.
That was why I left.
Even as the heir to the pack, the only son of the alpha, I walked away. My father begged, ordered, threatened me to stay, but I refused. The idea of being bound to someone, of losing my freedom to a mate, was a curse I wanted no part of.
Or so I thought.
Now, I wasn’t so sure.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as the wolf’s growls grew louder in my mind. It wasn’t just a bond anymore—it was a need, a hunger that wouldn’t be ignored. Being away from her felt like a slow death, a constant ache that nothing could soothe.
And it wasn’t just physical.
It was her laugh, soft and fleeting, that echoed in my head at the worst times. It was the way her eyes lit up when she was happy, like she didn’t even realize how breathtaking she was. It was her scent, warm and sweet, that lingered long after she was gone.
God, I was losing my mind.
I slammed my fist against the wall, the dull pain grounding me for a brief moment. But it didn’t last. The wolf snarled, pacing in my mind, its impatience bleeding into my own.
I couldn’t keep doing this.
The pull was too strong, and I was too weak to fight it anymore. I needed to see her, even if it was just for a second. Even if it destroyed me.
The thought made my stomach twist with guilt and shame. What the hell was wrong with me? I had spent my whole life running from this, rejecting everything it meant to be a mate. And now, here I was, falling apart because of a human.
My father’s words echoed in my head, sharp and cutting like they always were.
“You’re weak,” he had said the day I left. “Running from your responsibilities because you’re too afraid to face them. You’ll never survive out there without your pack. Without me.”
Maybe he was right.
No.
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Chapter 24
I shook the thought away, gritting my teeth as I shoved the memories down. This wasn’t about him. It was about her. About the way she made me feel like I was losing control, like nothing else mattered but her.
And that scared the hell out of me.
The wolf growled again, louder this time, and I felt my resolve crack. Fine. I would go. Just to check on her. Just to make sure she was okay.
But even as I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door, I knew I was lying to myself.
It wasn’t about her safety. It was about me. About the way I felt whole when I was near her, like all the pieces I had been fighting to hold together finally fit.
And that was the real curse.
Because no matter how much I tried to deny it, no matter how hard I fought, one thing was painfully clear.
She was mine.
And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
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