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“You can come out now. I know you’ve been following me.”
A chuffed sound leaves my snout. Of course, she knew. I step out from behind a tree and make my way to her, gait slow and my entire being radiating a calm I don’t feel. The need to rub myself against her, embed my scent deep into her pores is near maddening—I’ll never accept another man near her trying to take what’s mine.
And while she glares me down, lips pursed, my beast—king of all werewolves—wags his tail.
This is what my wolf has always needed, and it came in the package of a five-foot-nothing female with the prettiest eyes and sinful mouth. With thick curves, her hips and arse are perfection while her perky breasts make my mouth water.
But that beauty extends inward, too.
Loyal. Honest.
Currently daring me to test her patience.
“Shift, please.”
No real strength behind the command, but I follow it just the same, standing before her in the nude seconds later. My muscles thicken and my cock bobs under her inspection.
“Little Moon, I’m—”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” she cuts me off, her annoyance clear. I don’t take offense to it either.
I’m not idiotic enough to believe everything would be forgiven or forgotten in a few short hours. Isabella’s processing. I am, too.
And where I’m choking on regret, she’s angry.
Hurt.
Overwhelmed.
Exhausted.
Rightfully so, and the last thing I want to do is add frustration to the list, but letting her wander through the woods alone is out of the question. Anyone could attack her in the unclaimed land where rogues and other dangerous creatures reside.
“Because a part of me has always worshipped you.” Mere feet separate us but for each step I take forward, she moves one back. “We claimed you before we knew what you were, and even after, it didn’t stop us from wanting you. From visiting that lake every night in hopes I’d see you.”
“Your wolf has never been the problem.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not yours.”
“You are by the god’s design, but I vow to earn the right to your heart.”
“Life isn’t that simple.”
“Nothing worthwhile ever is.”
Those words set her off. Tears glisten in her blue eyes, and her face scrunches up in despair. I know I’ve hurt her, her trust in me, and I’ll take it.
All of it. Her.
“I’m not yours,” she hisses out, jamming a dainty finger into my chest. Try as she might, Isabella can’t ignore my rippling muscles or how my over seven-foot frame contracts at her mere touch. There’s also my hard cock and how it throbs against her clothed stomach, a body she’s pressing against me. I’m naked, she’s not, and it’s taking everything in me to not grab her and tear the flimsy fabric from her flesh. “I warned you, Werewolf. Three times we’d meet, and you chose to ignore me. You didn’t chose me.”
That vow to forget me will never be. I’ll follow her in this life and the next and every reincarnation that follows. If holding on to her ire and indignation helps her process and later forgive me, I more than earned the beating, but she’ll never erase me from her soul.
“I’m sorry.” Two words full of my remorse. “I hate that I’ve caused you this pain. That we’re in this position.”
“Why, Xadiel? Why couldn’t you just listen to me?”
