“Come with me. We’ll work through the rest.”
“Why?” The question is quiet. “Why would you help me? You don’t know me. I’m nothing to you.”
She’s so fucking wrong.
So completely wrong it would be funny if the situation weren’t balanced on a knife-edge between salvation and slaughter.
But telling her the truth, telling her about fated mates, lycan bonds and the way my wolf recognized her the second our eyes met, that conversation belongs somewhere other than areinforced cell with her pupils blown wide from hunger and fear in equal measure.
“Because you asked,” I say instead. “And because you’re not nothing to me, Charlotte. You’re never going to be nothing to me.”
I watch it happen in real time, the flicker that moves across her face, confusion first, then something sharper underneath it. Her body stills fractionally, like some deeper instinct recognizes the truth of it before her mind does.
The pull between us tightens. I feel it in the way her eyes lock on mine and don’t let go. In the way her hunger eases back just enough for something else to break through it—wariness and want. That sharp flicker of recognition that makes no fucking sense when we met less than twenty-four hours ago.
But it’s there anyway.
Every time her gaze catches on my mouth, my throat, my eyes, the air between us pulls tighter. Like one wrong move could either start a fight or end with me dragging her against my chest to find out what she tastes like beneath all that blood and fury.
And she feels it too. I see it in the slight hitch of her breath. The way her pupils widen when I take a step closer. The way her attention keeps snagging on my mouth before she forces it back to my eyes like she’s pissed at herself for noticing.
And somehow, she understands anyway.
There’s a truth sitting heavy in my chest that I should tell her. The real answer to why this feels like standing too close to live wires. The word for what she is to me. What I knew the second our eyes locked outside the gates. But she’s shaking on her feet, and running on instinct, and that conversation belongs somewhere when she’s got solid ground under her first.
“I’ll explain that properly when you’re not one missed beat away from losing control.”
Her eyes hold mine for a long second, long enough for something hot and dangerous to spark low in my gut when her attention drops briefly to my mouth before dragging back up again.
“That’s not a nothing answer,” she says softly.
“No,” I agree, my voice rougher now. “It’s not.”
She studies my face like she’s trying to peel the truth straight out of me, looking for lies, looking for angles, looking for the catch. But there’s something else in it now too—curiosity and heat. The kind that pulls people closer even when every survival instinct saysrun.
Whatever she finds, it’s enough to ease some of the fight out of her stance. Her shoulders lower slightly, her fangs slide back slowly, and her lips part on a shaky breath as her eyes catch on mine again.
“I don’t trust you,” she whispers.
My gaze drops to her mouth before I can stop it. The need to close the distance between us hits hard enough to feel violent. “I know.”
“But I’ll go. Because staying here is worse.”
I nod once, sharp and final. “I need to sedate you. Hades can do it with his death magic, no pain. You’ll wake up at the cabin, and this part will be over. If I don’t, if you’re conscious for the drive, there’s too much risk. The hunger gets stronger around people, and we’ll pass through populated areas before we hit the wilderness. I can’t risk you losing control in the truck.”
Her jaw tightens, fear spiking sharp enough I can smell it over the other emotions roiling off her in waves, but she nods. The gesture of someone who knows they don’t have better options.
“You want to knock me out?”
“The drive passes through towns. If you’re awake, you’ll kill someone. Probably multiple someones. This is the cleanest way.”
Charlie studies me, eyes flicking across my face, searching for the lie. “And if I say no?”
“It means we stay here.”
She shakes her head slightly, not refusing, just processing. “Stay here and die or go with you and maybe live? Not much of a choice.”
“But you do have a choice.”
