DIANA'S POV
"I was humiliated in front of you — and you still have the nerve to kiss me?"
Fine. I should blame myself; I kissed him first. But this bond the goddess refuses to break is unfair. After all these years he's still my mate. It feels like I'm chained to a brooding giant with those ocean-gray eyes boring into mine.
"How the hell did you get into my apartment? I'm certain I locked the door."
His chest rose with a slow breath, his lips parting. I tried not to look, but I couldn't stop myself — the kiss kept replaying in my head. Damn you, Diana. You spent years training not to stoop for a man who'd already rejected you.
"You left the windows open," came the sharp reply.
I'm not a cat person, really. But ever since the Moonbound pack—with Aj's help—found me this apartment, a cat has been purring at my window for five years. For some reason it won't come inside, even though I leave the window open. I keep a tin of cat food on the sill; we've kind of bonded over the years.
A sigh escaped me. If only I'd known a certain big dog would walk in through that same window.
I ignored the hard lines at his jaw as the city light poured across his face. I slipped off my heels and walked toward the bedroom, aware of the subtle sway of my hips—this gown made my slim frame look fuller. Damn, why is my mind rattling like this?
His footsteps trailed me, and his scent filled every corner of the room. Enough. I turned and folded my arms across my chest before he could step inside.
Elijah stood in the doorway — all man, all danger. Damn, his scent hit me like petals in full bloom.
"Seriously. I can't have you in my apartment following me. Don't you have a pack to patrol?" I snapped.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair like it was a nuisance. "You're a member of my pack, Diana."
A startled laugh escaped me. Was he pretending the last five years hadn't happened?
"Diana," he whispered, stepping into the room. I shook my head and raised a hand to stop him. Damn the goddess. Damn this bond. I'll fight it until I die.
"You can't keep avoiding the bond," he said, still coming forward.
I can .. and I will. I shook my head and took a step back. "Elijah, please go."
He wanted to see my wrath. My wolf might be dormant, but I hadn't lost the fight in me.
"I won't bow to you as an alpha," I said. Tradition demanded respect, but he wasn't my alpha anymore. "And I won't agree to be your mate."
"It's unavoidable."
My breath caught. He was close. I should do something — smash a glass bottle over his head.
Elijah crossed the threshold and paused, his gaze sweeping over me as if he were cataloguing every inch. He had already seen me at the wedding, but now his eyes moved around the room. There was almost nothing here: black decorations over ash-gray paintings, no photograph of my mother, an ordinary bed dressed in black linen. My whole room leaned toward shadow. I remembered liking color once, and I watched that fact strike him.
"Diana, your room…" he whispered, unable to finish. He kept staring at the bed, the walls, the bed again. Then he faced me and his eyes darkened. "Did I do this to you? Did I make you change?"
I almost said yes — yes, you ruined me when you threw our friendship into the mud — but I didn't give him the satisfaction. He did not deserve credit for anything, not even the worst of it.
I let my lips curve and sat on the bed. I steadied the heat rising in my chest and put on a calm mask. I looked at him like I was not breaking inside.
"No. You did nothing. This…" I waved toward the room. "This is my favorite color now."
He took a step forward, frowning. "You were always surrounded by light. Back then you radiated—so much of it pulled me…" He stopped; regret clouded his eyes. He shook his head. "This is not you. Was it your fiancé who changed you?"
My eyes went dark. In an instant I sprang up like a cheetah ready for war, crossed the room and grabbed his shirt at the throat. It was a mistake. Elijah did not flinch. If anything he wanted me closer; his eyes closed and he breathed me in.
I did not push him. I could not form words. I clung to his shirt and stared at him with nothing but hate.
Goddess, find me a different mate. I can barely hold on.
A long sigh left him, a release that sounded like relief. He opened his eyes and narrowed them on mine. When he spoke his voice dropped low, careful and dangerous in a way that made my skin prickle.
"I dreamt of you. I saw you, Diana. You were begging me to finally claim you."
"No," I whispered. We were so close I could feel his minty breath. "I would never think of that."
"But you did," he said, certain. His hand slid down my back, fingers tracing a slow path that set a live wire under my skin. "You opened yourself to me, Diana."
He leaned in until his lips brushed my ear and heat struck harder. I still held his shirt, but my grip was weakening.
"You told me to bite you there, right between your legs," he murmured, pressing his face against my neck. His hand came to rest at my waist. Before I could push him — though I wanted to and had no strength to — he hauled me tighter against him, his hardness pressing into me.
His voice dropped, rough with something like hunger and restraint. "And I would, Diana, if you asked me. If you could tell me it's me you want. If you could stop this madness inside me."