Page 15 of Fated Wolf's Redemption

Recognition. Something deeper than instinct. Something we’ve been ignoring.

For a moment, neither of us moves. The wind howls through the trees, stirring the tension in the air, the heat between us thick and crackling like a live wire.

I should walk away. I should leave her here, go back to my pack, pretend this never happened. Instead, I take another step closer… so does she.

Sophia and I circle each other, two predators caught in a moment that neither of us wants to break. Her wolf watches me with sharp, burning eyes, her muscles coiled, poised. She should have run. I should have let her or walked away on my own. But neither of us seems to be able to. We stand on the edge of something dangerous, something neither of us is ready to admit.

She flicks her tail, watching me carefully, her wolf’s body angled just enough to keep me guessing. A challenge. My wolftenses, instincts clashing in my head, but before I can decide what to do, she moves—fast. Not toward me, but past me.

She bolts toward the trees, paws kicking up earth, her silver-gray coat flashing in the moonlight. My wolf reacts before my mind can catch up. I give chase.

We streak through the forest, cutting through the undergrowth, dodging between trees, our bodies weaving in and out of the shadows. It’s not a fight. It’s something else. Something just as primal, just as wild.

Running together.

Sophia is fast. She moves like a creature built for the hunt, sleek and agile, slipping through the trees like the wind itself. But I’m bigger, stronger, and when she veers left, trying to gain distance, I push harder, closing the gap.

Her scent wraps around me, electric and alive. She glances back, eyes gleaming in the dark, and lets out a low, teasing growl. She’s playing with me. Daring me to catch her.

My wolf answers the challenge. I lunge forward, driving my paws into the earth, propelling myself toward her. She laughs in the way only a wolf can, quick and sharp, darting just out of my reach.

She likes this. So do I.

We race through the trees, chasing each other through the night, neither one of us willing to stop, neither one of us ready to end whatever this is.

The moon hangs heavy in the sky, bathing the valley in silver light. We move in sync, our strides aligning, our instincts pulling us closer and closer to something we shouldn’t want but can’t deny.

This is dangerous. This is a mistake. I don’t care; neither does she.

The mountains open up before us, the sky bleeding from black to deep blue, the first hints of dawn creeping over theridgeline. We slow, our pace easing into something steady, something natural.

Sophia’s wolf glances at me, her ears flicking forward, the energy between us humming with something undeniable. We stop at the edge of a clearing, standing side by side, our breath heavy in the crisp morning air.

A silent truce.

A moment neither of us is willing to break.

Then, without warning, she moves.

Mist curls around her form, wrapping her in a cocoon of storm-lit energy, lightning flickering through the dense fog. The crackling swirl lasts only a few seconds, and when it clears, she stands before me—human again.

Naked.

Her hair is loose, tumbling over her shoulders, her sharp eyes locked onto mine like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do. Waiting to see if I’ll follow suit. I do.

The shift wraps around me, swallowing my form in a haze of thunder and light, my body reforming, my senses snapping back into human focus.

The second the mist clears, I’m standing before her, bare, exposed, nowhere to hide. Silence stretches between us, thick with everything we aren’t saying. Her gaze drifts over me—not in embarrassment, but curiosity, acknowledgment.

She doesn’t look away. Neither do I.

She lets out a slow breath, lifting her chin. "You going to just stand there, Stone?"

I should tell her that whatever the hell this is, it doesn’t change a damn thing. I should remind her she’s still a Windrider, that I’m still Nightshade, that our packs have never neem allies, but the words won’t come. Instead, I hold her gaze, my jaw tight, my instincts still snarling.

Sophia’s lips curl slightly, but there’s no humor in it, no tease. Just understanding.

She shakes her head, grabbing the bundle of clothes she must have left nearby. "Thought so," she murmurs as she turns away.

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