Trust our mate,it demanded with increasing urgency.Let our mate help.
The internal war was tearing him apart. Every rational thought screamed that he couldn't afford to relinquish control when so much hung in the balance. The pack looked to him for strength and certainty. Lila depended on his protection. The territory required constant vigilance against threats both known and hidden.
But his wolf recognized something Dorian's conscious mind struggled to accept—Harper was already changing the atmosphere of their home simply by existing within it. Her presence seemed to soften the sharp edges of tension that had lingered here for months.
The memory of breakfast in her room ambushed him with devastating clarity. Sitting beside her on that small couch, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her soft curves, breathing in that intoxicating scent of jasmine and rain that seemed designed specifically to unravel his composure. The wayshe'd listened to him when he spoke about his trauma, her green eyes focused entirely on him with an attention that felt both professional and deeply personal.
For those brief moments, surrounded by Harper's quiet competence and genuine compassion, Dorian had felt something he'd almost forgotten existed—hope. The constant weight of responsibility hadn't disappeared, but somehow it had felt more manageable, as if he didn't have to carry it entirely alone.
She's already filling this estate with her warmth,he realized with growing alarm.And it's undoing me slowly.
The mate bond pulsed stronger with each hour Harper remained under his roof, a living thing that seemed to grow more demanding by the minute. His wolf wanted to claim her, mark her, make it impossible for her to leave when her work here was finished. The primal need to possess and protect warred constantly with his deeply ingrained belief that emotional attachments created vulnerabilities he couldn't afford.
How was he supposed to maintain the careful distance necessary for effective leadership when every primal instinct screamed at him to pull her close and never let go?
The sound of footsteps snapped him from his spiraling thoughts. Harper emerged from the estate, and Dorian's entire body went rigid with awareness. She moved with that same calm grace he'd noticed yesterday, but there was something different in her expression—a cautious optimism that made his chest tighten with emotion.
She settled beside him on the swing, and it took every ounce of willpower Dorian possessed not to immediately wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her against his side. The wooden seat creaked softly under their combined weight, and he foundhimself hyperaware of the scant inches separating their bodies, and of the way her scent seemed to envelop him like a drug.
Focus,he commanded himself desperately.Be professional. Don't think about how perfectly she fits beside you.
"While the first session was brief," Harper said, her voice carrying that same soothing quality that seemed to calm his wolf, "I think I might've reached Lila enough that she's agreed to meet with me again tomorrow."
Dorian's head snapped toward her, disbelief and relief warring in his expression. "She agreed to another session?"
The implications hit him like a blow. Lila had been adamant—one session, and that was it. She'd made that declaration with the same stubborn determination that had defined her personality since childhood, the same fierce will that had helped her survive the attack but had also trapped her in its aftermath.
"She did," Harper confirmed, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It wasn't easy, and I suspect tomorrow will bring its own challenges, but she's willing to try."
Something fundamental shifted in Dorian, a loosening of tension he'd been carrying for too long. His mate—his brilliant mate—had accomplished in one brief session what months of other interventions had failed to achieve. She'd somehow reached through Lila's defenses and planted the first seeds of trust.
His wolf practically purred with satisfaction.Our mate brings healing. Our mate belongs here.
"That's incredible news," he said, his voice roughened. The urge to touch her, to show his gratitude in the most primitive way possible, was overwhelming. "Maybe we should go to town and celebrate with lunch. And you could see more of the area."
And I can get some distance before I do something catastrophically stupid like kiss you senseless right here on this swing.
The thought of staying this close to Harper, breathing in her scent while his wolf demanded he claim what was his, was rapidly becoming torture. Taking her to town would provide the illusion of control, the pretense that he could manage this situation like any other challenge that required his attention.
"That sounds wonderful," Harper replied, her green eyes brightening with genuine enthusiasm. "I'd love to see more of this beautiful place."
They stood simultaneously, and Dorian felt the loss of her proximity like a physical ache. He gestured toward the driveway where his truck sat waiting, the black paint gleaming in the morning sunlight.
The gravel crunched beneath Dorian's boots as he moved around to Harper's side of the truck, his hand settling possessively on the door handle before she could reach for it herself. The emerald wool of her sweater brought out the green in her eyes, and the way her dark jeans hugged her curves made his mouth go desert-dry. And when she slid into the passenger seat, something primitive and deeply satisfied stirred in his chest.
My mate. In my truck. Where she belongs.
His wolf howled with contentment at the sight, and when Dorian slid into the driver's seat, he had to grip the steering wheel tighter than necessary to keep from reaching across the console to touch her. The scent of jasmine and rain soon filled the cab, wrapping around him and making coherent thought increasingly difficult.
Focus on driving,he commanded as the engine rumbled to life.Don't think about how right this feels.
The few miles to town passed in comfortable silence, though Dorian remained hyperaware of every small movement Harper made—the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, how she gazed out the window at the towering pines with genuineappreciation, the soft sound of her breathing in the confined space.
When they finally reached the diner, Dorian parked and forced himself to move at a measured pace around to Harper's door. He helped her down from the truck, his large hands spanning her waist briefly, and had to bite back a growl of satisfaction when she didn't pull away immediately.
Professional distance,he reminded himself sharply.She's Lila's counselor.
But his wolf snarled in disagreement, and the mate bond thrummed with increasing intensity.
