The fated mate bond—which has burned steadily and one-sided in my chest for weeks—suddenly surges. It’s not louder, but different. Like an echo that has been missing suddenly returning, creating harmony where there was only a single note before. The change is so profound, it steals the air from my lungs and makes my wolf rumble with recognition and relief.
Something has changed. Something is right in a way it hasn’t been since that night in the forest.
Selene gasps against my mouth, her body going rigid in my arms. Her hands fly up to my chest—not pushing me away but clutching at my uniform like I’m the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control.
The kiss deepens without my permission, my wolf surging forward with possessive satisfaction. Selene tastes like moonlight and fear and something uniquely her that I’ve been craving without realizing it. Her lips part on a soft whimper, and when I sweep my tongue into her mouth, she responds with desperate hunger.
Mine. The word echoes through every fiber of my being. Mine, mine, mine.
I can feel her heartbeat thundering with mine, can taste her shock and confusion mixing with what feels like longing.
I pull back just enough to breathe, my forehead pressed to hers, both of us panting. Her eyes are clear now—really clear, for the first time in two weeks. Wide and blue and full of terrified awareness.
“Seth?” Her voice is small, confused. “What—where—”
“You were sleepwalking.” My hands are still cupped around her face, like if I let go she’ll disappear again. “You walked into the forest. Into the lake. You wouldn’t wake up.”
She blinks rapidly, looking around as if she’s seeing the lake andthe forest for the first time. “I don’t—I don’t remember…” Her gaze snaps back to mine, panic flooding her features. “How did I get here?”
“I followed you from the palace grounds.” I force myself to lower my hands from her cheeks, though all I want is to keep touching her, to keep that physical connection. “You were in some kind of trance.”
She looks down at the soaked nightdress clinging to her body. Horror washes across her face. “Oh god. Oh god, I could have—”
“But you didn’t.” I grip her shoulders, making her look at me. “You’re safe now.”
Her eyes search mine, and I can see the moment she feels it. The fated mate bond. Alive and burning between us again, impossible to ignore.
“The bond,” she whispers, her face going pale. “I can feel it. I can feel you again.” Her voice rises with each word, edging toward hysteria. “But that’s not—It’s supposed to be Zane. I feel it with Zane!”
Her words are like a punch to my gut, but I force myself to stay calm. “Whatever you think you feel with Zane, it’s not real. It can’t be.”
“How do you know?” She’s shaking now, whether from cold or shock I can’t tell. “How do you know what’s real anymore?”
I don’t have an answer for that. All I know is that the bond between the two of us is real—as real as the water soaking through our clothes, as real as her pulse fluttering wildly under my fingertips.
“We need to get you back to the palace,” I say finally. “Get you warm and safe, and then we’ll figure this out.”
She nods numbly, letting me guide her back to the shore. Her steps are shaky, her feet leaving bloody prints on the muddy bank. Without thinking, I scoop her up into my arms.
She stiffens. “Seth—”
“Your feet are cut to ribbons,” I explain. “Just let me help you.”
For a moment I think she’ll argue and push me away like she has done for the past two weeks. Instead, she sags against my chest with a defeated sound, too exhausted and confused to fight.
I carry her through the forest, her wet body pressed against mine, the fated mate bond humming contentedly at the contact.My wolf is calmer now, satisfied that our mate is safe in our arms, where she belongs.
But as we emerge from the trees and the palace comes into view, one thought circles through my mind on repeat:
What the hell is Zane Radrick doing to her?
Chapter Six
Selene
The walkback to my quarters feels endless. Seth carries me like I weigh nothing, his arms steady despite the way his heart is pounding against my side. I want to protest, to demand he put me down, but my feet throb with every slight movement, and the exhaustion weighing on me makes resistance impossible.
The fated mate bond thrums between us, alive and insistent in a way it hasn’t been for two weeks. It’s disorienting, like suddenly remembering how to breathe after forgetting you need air. Every point where his body touches mine sends sparks racing under my skin, and I hate it. I hate that my body responds to him when my mind knows better.
