My wolf wanted him. My heart hated him. My pride refused him.
I left the dining hall before Darius could do whatever he was planning to do. Before Caleb could say anything else that would make this situation more complicated than it already was. Before the bond could strangle me completely.
The night air was cold against my face as I stepped outside, sharp enough to make my eyes water. I needed space. Distance. Somewhere I could breathe without feeling Darius's presence pressing down on me like a weight on my chest.
My wolf whined inside my head, confused and hurt. The sound echoed through my skull, high-pitched and mournful. She didn't understand why we were running from our mate. Didn't understand why the bond felt like it was tearing us apart instead of pulling us together.
Want him, she whispered. Need him. Mate.
We can't have him, I told her firmly. He rejected us.
But he watches. He cares.
Caring isn't enough.
She growled in frustration, pacing inside my mind like a caged animal. I could feel her restlessness, her need to run, to hunt, to do something other than sit in this painful limbo between rejection and desire. The sensation was physical—claws scraping against the inside of my ribs, energy coiling in my muscles with nowhere to go.
I headed toward the forest trail, the same path I'd walked with Gideon days ago. The trees provided cover, shadows deep enough to hide in. My footsteps crunched on gravel, then went silent as I stepped onto soft earth and pine needles. The scent of the forest wrapped around me—damp soil, tree bark, the faint musk of animals that had passed through recently. Out here, at least, I didn't have to pretend.
I found a clearing about ten minutes in and stopped. Moonlight filtered through the branches overhead, painting everything in silver. The light was cold and beautiful, turning ordinary leaves into something ethereal. This far from the main buildings, the only sounds were wind rustling through branches, leaves whispering secrets to each other, and my own breathing—too fast, too shallow.
I closed my eyes and focused inward, trying to find that place where my wolf lived.
She was right there. Closer to the surface than she'd ever been. I could feel her presence like heat beneath my skin, pulsing with barely contained energy. Powerful. Restless. Ready to break free.
Let me out, she begged. Please. Need to run.
I don't know how.
Trust me. Let go.
I'd been holding onto control so tightly since she appeared. White-knuckled control that made my shoulders ache and my jaw hurt from clenching. Afraid of what might happen if I let her take over. Afraid I'd lose myself completely, disappear into instinct and never come back.
But she was part of me. We were supposed to work together, not fight each other.
I took a breath—deep, pulling cold air into my lungs until they burned—and loosened my grip.
Power flooded through me immediately. My wolf surged forward, not taking over, but blending with me. Sharing space. The sensation was overwhelming—like diving into warm water after being frozen, like coming alive after years of sleepwalking. Our senses sharpened. I could smell things I'd never noticed before. The distinct scent of each tree species—oak, pine, birch. The mineral tang of nearby water. The faint trace of deer that had passed through hours ago. I could hear the rustle of small animals in the underbrush, the beating of moth wings, the distant hoot of an owl. Feel the earth beneath my feet like it was alive, pulsing with its own heartbeat.
It was intoxicating.
My wolf stretched inside me, testing the boundaries of what we could do together. The movement felt like flexing muscles I'd never known I had, reaching into corners of myself that had been locked away. She pushed strength into my muscles, making me feel faster, stronger, more alive than I'd ever felt as just human. My fingers tingled with barely suppressed energy. My legs felt like coiled springs ready to launch.
This was what it meant to have a wolf. This connection. This power.
More, she urged. Shift. Run.
Not yet. I'm not ready.
She whined but settled, accepting the compromise. At least we were working together now. That was progress.
I practiced for the next hour. Testing our connection. Learning how to pull her strength without losing control. How to let her enhance my senses without being overwhelmed by them. The forest became a symphony of scents and sounds, each one distinct and meaningful. I could track a rabbit's path just by scent, could hear the difference between wind moving through deciduous versus evergreen trees.
It was harder than it looked. Every time I thought I had the balance right, something would shift and I'd have to adjust. My wolf would surge forward too strongly and I'd stumble. Or I'd pull back too hard and the connection would snap thin as thread. But slowly, gradually, I was getting the hang of it. Finding the rhythm. Learning the dance.
Until the bond flared.
Pain shot through my chest, sharp and sudden. Like a hook buried in my sternum, yanked without warning. I gasped, doubling over, hand pressed against my ribs. The cold air I'd been breathing turned to knives in my lungs.
My wolf howled inside my head. The sound was anguish made audible, pure animal grief.
Mate. Mate hurts.
No. He's hurting us.
But I could feel it through the bond. Darius wasn't in pain. The golden thread connecting us vibrated with his emotions—emotions that had nothing to do with suffering. He was... laughing. Happy. Content.
With someone else.
The image came unbidden, forced through the bond like poison through a needle. Darius sitting with the blonde girl, her hand on his arm, manicured fingers pale against his darker skin. Both of them smiling. She said something. He laughed, head thrown back, genuinely amused. The sound would be rich and warm, the kind of laugh that made others want to join in.
And the bond screamed in protest.
My wolf clawed at my insides, furious and heartbroken. I could feel her rage like fire in my veins, taste her grief bitter on my tongue. She didn't understand why our mate was giving attention to another female. Why he was laughing with her when he should be with us.
Make him stop, she snarled. Make him see us.
I can't.
Fight for him.
He doesn't want us to fight for him.
The pain in my chest wouldn't fade. It just sat there, heavy and constant, a reminder that no matter how much I wanted to move on, the bond wouldn't let me. Like carrying a stone lodged between my ribs, sharp-edged and impossible to dislodge.
I sank down onto a fallen log, breathing through the hurt. The bark was rough beneath my palms, flaking away under my grip. My wolf paced restlessly inside, torn between rage and grief, her emotions making my hands shake and my vision blur.
"This is exactly what I was worried about."
I looked up. Celeste stood at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, concern written all over her face. Her dark hair caught the moonlight, and her eyes were soft with understanding.
"How did you find me?" I asked. My voice came out rougher than intended, scraped raw.
"Followed your scent. You're not exactly subtle when you're upset." She walked over and sat beside me, the log creaking under our combined weight. Her presence was warm and solid, grounding. "You felt it, didn't you? Through the bond."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Too bad. We're talking about it." She bumped her shoulder against mine, the contact gentle but firm. "You can't keep ignoring this, Elara. The bond isn't going away just because you want it to."
"I know that."
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're trying to pretend it doesn't exist." Celeste's voice was gentle but firm. "That's not going to work. Rejected bonds are... complicated. Painful. The connection doesn't just disappear. It festers."
"So what am I supposed to do? Just accept that I'm tied to someone who doesn't want me?"
"No. But you can't keep fighting it like this either. It's going to tear you apart."
I knew she was right. Could feel the truth of it in the constant ache in my chest, in the way my wolf wouldn't settle, in the exhaustion that came from battling the bond every single day. The weariness went bone-deep, making even simple tasks feel like climbing mountains.
"He was with her," I said quietly. "That blonde girl. They were laughing together."
"I saw."
"It shouldn't hurt this much. He rejected me. I should be over it."
"The bond doesn't work that way." Celeste sighed, her breath misting in the cold air. "I had a cousin who went through something similar. Her mate rejected her because his family didn't approve of her pack. She tried to move on, tried to ignore the bond, but it just got worse. Eventually, she had to do a formal severance ritual."
"What's that?"
"A way to break the bond completely. It's painful and dangerous, and it doesn't always work. But it's the only way to truly be free of a rejected mate."
The thought of breaking the bond entirely made my wolf whimper. Even knowing Darius didn't want us, she couldn't stand the idea of losing that connection forever. The golden thread, painful as it was, felt essential—like cutting it would mean cutting out part of our soul.
"I can't do that," I said.
"Then you need to figure out how to coexist with it." Celeste stood and offered me her hand. Her palm was warm when I took it, callused from training. "Come on. Let's get you back to the dorm."
I took her hand and let her pull me up. We walked back through the forest in silence, my wolf still restless but calmer now that we were moving. Our footsteps fell into sync, crunching through underbrush. The forest sounds continued around us—an owl hooting, something small scurrying through leaves, the eternal whisper of wind through branches.
"For what it's worth," Celeste said as we reached the edge of campus, lights from the buildings spilling golden across manicured grass, "I think you're handling this better than most people would. You're not sitting around waiting for him to change his mind. You're building a life here despite him."
"It doesn't feel like I'm handling it."
"That's because you're in the middle of it. Trust me, you're stronger than you think."
We said goodnight at the dorm entrance. I climbed the stairs to my floor, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the day. Each step required effort, my legs heavy with more than physical fatigue. The hallway was quiet, most students already asleep. A few lights glowed under doorways, accompanied by muffled music or conversation.
My room was dark when I opened the door. Quiet. Safe.
I dropped my bag and walked to the window, looking out at the campus below. Lights glowed from various buildings—amber from dorm windows, white from streetlamps, the occasional blue flicker of someone's television. Students moved between them like fireflies, small figures in the distance going about their lives.
Somewhere out there, Darius was probably still with that girl. Still laughing. Still pretending the bond didn't exist.
My wolf whined softly, the sound sad and small.
"You can't ignore the bond forever," I whispered to myself, echoing Celeste's words. My breath fogged the cold glass.
"Watch me," I whispered back.
But even as I said it, I felt him. The bond pulled tight, that familiar awareness that told me exactly where he was. The golden thread thrummed between us, alive and insistent.
I looked down at the courtyard below and froze.
Darius stood in the shadows near the library, looking up. Looking directly at my window. His figure was mostly obscured by darkness, but moonlight caught the angles of his face, the breadth of his shoulders. The tension in his body was visible even from this distance—coiled muscles, hands clenched at his sides, the stillness of a predator watching prey.
Even from this distance, I could see his expression. The tension in his shoulders. The way his hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles probably white with the force of it.
And his eyes.
Gold and burning with something I'd seen before but never acknowledged.
Desire.
Raw. Undeniable. Possessive.
The intensity of his gaze hit me like physical force. I could feel it through the bond—want so strong it bordered on pain, need so fierce it made the air between us crackle with tension.
My wolf perked up, responding instantly to our mate's attention. Her excitement flooded through me, making my heart race, my skin flush warm despite the cold.
But I stepped back from the window. Pulled the curtain closed, the fabric swishing as it blocked out the sight of him. Shut him out.
Because desire wasn't enough.
It would never be enough.