Andrew's POV
He was walking directly behind me.
Every breath I took was another reminder of how far this day had spun out of control. From denying he existed to killing to protect him… from kissing him—kissing him to guiding him now along the winding trail that made its way to the one spot I had always considered sacred, safe, and apart from the troubles of the world.
The irony was not lost on me.
The Moon Goddess must be getting a good laugh now. I'd fought against her will at every turn, only to go ahead and do the very things I swore I would never do. And here I was again… not running from him, but for him.
Behind me, Jamie walked quietly—his breath even, his movements exact, almost in time with mine. His wolf was surging more insistently now, I could feel it. That subtle pressure, that coarse energy just beneath his skin. All the signs were there: the heightened senses, the shine in his eyes, the emotional attunement to mine. It was coming—slowly, but inevitably.
Jamie's wolf was stirring.
And I couldn't help but ask myself… Why now?
Was it really because of me? Because of us?
Because of love?
That word—love—felt too weighted to presume, yet too true to dismiss. Jamie's wolf was stirring like it had something worth fighting for at last. Something-or—or someone—it could have faith in.
And I wasn't sure I deserved that trust.
We arrived just as the sun began to set behind the trees, spilling amber light across the sky. The great tree towered in the clearing like a guardian, massive and ancient. Its bark was dark and twisted, and its roots sank deep into the ground like veins filled with secrets. Heavy clusters of wolfsbane grew around it—lethal and beautiful.
No ordinary wolf could get through them. But we were not ordinary.
"My father taught Ann and me how to fend off the wolfsbane," I explained to him, watching as Jamie's eyes widened as he scanned the clearing. "It's a secret… passed down. A tradition." I stopped, then smiled weakly. "Ann and I would come here when things got bad. Caroline, now and then. This was our little sanctuary."
Jamie turned to me, his face full of awe. "It's beautiful," he breathed.
We reached the base of the tree where I had stashed some old provisions in a hollowed-out trunk—just in case. I tossed Jamie one of my shirts, and he caught it with a smile that did something to me.
I brushed some leaves and dirt away and patted the ground beside me.
"Sit," I said, more softly than I was accustomed to.
He did.
The silence between us wasn't awkward. It was. Contemplative. Mutual. Like we were both trying to stitch the day's unraveling threads back together.
"I don't know how to do this," I finally admitted.
Jamie tilted his head, eyes locked on mine.
"I mean—" I gestured a hand between us. "The bond. The feelings. The expectation. It's. Weighty. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to fail everyone—my father, the pack, even you.
Jamie's face dropped a little, and my heart clenched.
"Do you think I'm a disappointment?" he whispered.
"No," I said quickly, forcefully. "No, Jamie. That's not what I meant." I reached out instinctively, my hand brushing against his arm. "You're. Amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a mate."
"Then why don't you feel lucky?" he whispered.
I looked away, guilt tugging at my chest.
I had no answer.
But before I could digest it, Jamie did something that touched my heart.
"I am," he said, his voice firm. "I am lucky… if the Goddess truly chose you for me. And I'll fight for what I know is right. And that's you, Andrew."
His words hit me like a blow and a balm. Something within me unfolded. I could feel my wolf tremble within, reacting to Jamie's ardour—his sincerity.
I did not know how to love him yet. But at that moment, I wanted to try.
I had not had time to say anything before the sharp crackle of leaves in the distance snapped my senses to alert.
Ann's voice pierced the air first, with a hint of urgency. "Andrew?!"
Caroline stood behind her, her face unreadable.
"Guess we're not alone anymore," Jamie stated with an uneasy laugh.
I stood, helping him to his feet. Whatever came next—questions, warnings, maybe even punishment—I'd face it.
But not without him.
Not anymore.