Page 46 of Fate, Interrupted

“The wolf knows you’re here,” I say.

Her heartbeat jumps. I hear the small, immediate spike of it, quick and then working to steady.

“And?” she says.

“And it makes things complicated.”

“For whom?”

I don’t answer that, because the honest answer is both of us, and saying it out loud feels like crossing a line I haven’t crossed yet.

She takes a step closer instead of waiting for the answer.

The distance between us shrinks until I can feel the heat of her body. I hold my ground because my wolf won’t let me move back.

Her eyes find mine and stay there.

“You thought I came here to walk away.”

I don’t say anything. Because I did. Because that is what I thought when I caught her eye after losing control.

I’ve seen humans recoil from wolves often enough that I expected the same from her.

She sees what lives under the surface, and she leaves. That’s how it goes.

“So that’s what you think of me,” she says. It’s not accusatory.

“I think you saw something most humans don’t see and can’t unsee.”

“You’re right,” she says. “I can’t unsee it.” She steps closer. “I don’t want to.”

I stop breathing for a second. Even my wolf quiets.

She lifts her hand and presses it flat against the front of my shirt, the contact light but pointed, and I feel it everywhere. The warmth of her palm through the cotton, the way the touch is anything but accidental.

“You’re shaking,” she says.

She’s right. The tremor is low and contained, the residue of the wolf being held in check at close range. I hadn’t realized it was visible until she said it.

“Norah.”

“I know,” she says. “I know it’s complicated. I know what this part of town is, and what the wolf means and how people usually respond to it.” Her hand stays where it is, steady against my chest. “I know all of that.”

She looks up at me.

“I came anyway,” she says. “Because you matter to me. And I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

For weeks I’ve been waiting for the moment she decides being with a wolf is too much. Instead, she drove into my territory to tell me the opposite.

I stop holding myself away from her.

I reach for her.

My fingers find the back of her neck where the hair has come fully loose, and I feel her breath catch at the contact. That small response is enough.

I pull her in.

The kiss starts carefully, measured. The restraint of a man who is still trying to hold his desire in check. Her mouth is warm, and she rises onto her toes to close the last fraction of space between us.