Page 28 of Seas the Day
The word ‘heirs’ hit her like a slap. The romantic atmosphere suddenly felt suffocating as the reality crashed down on her. She wasn’t just a mate to him—she was a political necessity, a breeding strategy, a solution to his leadership problems.
“So that’s all I am to you?” The words came out sharp. “A political tool?”
“No.” The worry in his voice made her look up. “Not anymore. I was wrong to think I could strategize the mate bond, control it like everything else. What I feel for you—” He ran a hand through his dark hair, the controlled facade cracking further. “It’s consuming, Navira. The bond demands things I know you’re not ready for, but I can’t ignore what’s happening between us. The way you led my pack today, how you respond to the ocean—you belong here with me.”
The walls of her chest began closing in. The weight of his expectations, the intensity of his need, the impossible situation she’d stumbled into—it all pressed down on her like the ocean depths. Her breathing became shallow and rapid.
Not now. Not here.
But her body didn’t care about timing or location. Five years of carefully controlled existence shattered as panic clawed itsway up her throat. The restaurant terrace tilted, the candlelight blurring into streaks of gold.
“I can’t—I can’t breathe?—”
Thalric was beside her in an instant, his strong hands gently gripping her shoulders, steadying her without restraining.
“Hey, look at me.” His voice had shed all Alpha command, becoming purely human concern. “Deep breaths. In and out. You’re safe.”
But she wasn’t safe. She was drowning in expectations she’d never asked for, in a bond she didn’t understand, in feelings that terrified her more than any Olympic final ever had.
“We need to go,” she gasped. “Please, I need to go.”
Without question or hesitation, he guided her to her feet and toward the exit, his protective presence a shield against her spiraling thoughts. The drive back to the estate passed in a blur of concerned glances and careful breathing exercises, his deep voice anchoring her to reality.
By the time they reached his estate, the worst had passed, leaving her wrung out and embarrassed. She mumbled something about needing rest and fled to her suite. But once inside, restlessness consumed her. The walls felt too close, the air too thin.
The ocean. She needed the ocean.
Without considering the consequences, she stripped out of the black dress and pulled on her bikini. The pink waters called to her like a siren song, promising the peace and clarity that had eluded her all evening. She slipped from the estate and made her way down to the shoreline, where moonlight turned the waves into liquid silver.
The moment her feet touched the water’s edge, some of the tension began to leave her shoulders. And when she dove beneath the surface, the familiar embrace of the depths welcomed her home.
NINETEEN
THALRIC
Thalric stood in his private chambers, the weight of the evening’s disaster pressing down on his shoulders like a physical force. The mate bond thrummed between them—stronger now, more insistent—carrying fragments of Navira’s emotional state through their connection. Fear rippled through the invisible thread that bound them, sharp and acidic. Doubt followed, thick and suffocating. But underneath it all, like a current running deep beneath turbulent waters, he felt something else. Desire. Not just physical, though that burned bright enough to make his wolf pace. This was deeper—a yearning for belonging, for purpose, for him.
The contradiction tore at him. How could she want him and fear him in the same breath?
Because you’re a fool who doesn’t know when to shut up.
He’d opened himself completely at dinner—revealing his childhood trauma, the political necessity of having a mate, the consuming nature of the mate bond. He’d thought vulnerability was what she needed from him, thought honesty would bridge the gap between them.
Instead, he’d sent her spiraling into a panic attack.
The memory of her gasping for breath, her eyes wide with terror, made his chest tighten all over again. He’d caused that. His need to explain, to justify, to make her understand—it had all backfired spectacularly. She’d looked at him like he was a predator closing in for the kill, not a man trying to bare his soul.
You should give her space. Let her rest.
But his wolf snarled at the thought. The Alpha in him—the part that had learned control through necessity—knew patience was the strategic choice. The mate in him, the man who’d felt her trembling in his arms, couldn’t stand the thought of her alone and hurting.
He needed to fix this. Needed to explain that everything had changed the moment she’d walked into his office. That his original plan—clinical, strategic, controlled—had shattered like glass the instant their hands touched. That the consuming nature of the bond wasn’t about possession or political necessity, but about her being the missing piece of himself he’d never known existed until now.
This will be the hardest conversation of your life,he thought grimly, straightening his shoulders.
The walk to her suite felt endless and far too short. Each step carried him closer to either salvation or complete destruction. When he reached her door, he raised his hand to knock, then paused. The door stood slightly ajar.
Frowning, he pushed it open wider. “Navira?”
