We sat like that, surrounded by stone and shadows, both of us nursing old wounds and new. The air chilled further as night crept in, and I fought the urge to shiver.
“We should start a fire,” Tristan suggested, his arm moving to reach for something to burn. I pushed him back down with a look.
“Not if it means you bleeding out again.” I took my own advice and leaned against him, feeling his body tense then relax at the contact. “This will have to do.”
The warmth of him, of us, seeped through me. Our breath mingled in the cool air, and for the first time, it felt okay to just be. Together, in this strange in-between space that was neither pack nor war.
“You’re freezing,” Tristan said, moving his good arm to pull me closer.
“So are you,” I replied, settling against his chest.
The nearness was dizzying. Intoxicating. Our hands brushed again, no accident this time. The touch was tentative, almost shy. I felt his fingers against my cheek, then ghosting down to my lips. My own hand found its way to his chest, resting there where I could feel the steady thump of his heart.
His fingers brushed my lips, and I wanted to run. Not from him—but from what I already knew: once I kissed him, there was no going back. No pretending this didn’t mean everything.
I shouldn’t have wanted this. I shouldn’t have wanted him. But when his hand brushed my cheek, the fear unraveled faster than I could stop it. I leaned in, not because I was sure—but because for once, I wanted something just for me.
We didn’t say anything, but we didn’t have to. The silence was loud enough.
Then, slowly, Tristan tipped my chin up, and the world tilted with it. His eyes held mine, speaking volumes that left me breathless. He leaned in, pausing just long enough for me to meet him halfway. Our lips touched, soft and electric. Then all at once, the floodgates opened.
The kiss was deep and demanding, like years of questions finally being answered. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. I pressed against him, careful to avoid his injury but not wanting any space between us. I tasted the fire and the fear, the danger and the promise. Everything I hadn’t let myself want until now.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and surprised, a faint light danced in the darkness. Our birthmarks glowed when we touched, casting an iridescent light that shimmered like it had a life of its own. We stared, first at our marks, then at each other.
The glow pulsed in time with our heartbeats, casting pale light across the cave walls. For a moment, it felt like the mountain was breathing with us. Like it had been waiting for this.
Something clicked in my chest. A memory—no, a warning. A voice echoing from the dream I barely remembered: One must choose. One must lose. My hand trembled. I didn’t know what I’d just chosen. But I felt it. I’d already made it.
“It’s true,” Tristan said, voice tinged with wonder and something else. “It’s really true.”
And it was. As soon as Tristan’s lips touched mine, it was like an instant knowing in my soul. That this alpha from a rival pack,a wolf who was marked just like me, was destined to be my mate. Fated. I nodded, still reeling from the kiss, from everything.
“I guess we are cursed after all,” I said, though the words had lost their sting.
We didn’t know what it meant, not really. But for once, it felt like maybe there was a chance. I should’ve been terrified. I still was, a little. What would this mean when my father found out? When my pack learned I’d kissed the enemy? But none of that mattered here. Not yet.
I pulled his arm tighter around me, feeling Tristan relax as he leaned back. I followed, wrapping myself into his warmth. He held me there, close and unguarded, until the glow of our marks faded into the night.
I should have been uneasy. Torn, conflicted, unsure. And I was. But more than that, I felt something new. Hopeful.
Morning dripped into the cave, cold and slow. Voices floated from outside, and I was instantly awake. Urgent, low voices that shouldn’t have been there. I held my breath, heart pounding, feeling Tristan’s arm heavy across my waist. I had to get free. I had to know who was out there.
His grip was protective even in sleep, a warmth I could have sunk into if everything wasn't suddenly so wrong. I wriggled away, each inch a struggle against the tangle of my own feelings. As soon as I was clear, I crouched low, listening hard.
The voices were muted by the walls but close, too close for comfort. I couldn’t catch the words, only the tone—tense, conspiratorial, nothing I wanted to hear with Tristan so vulnerable beside me. My skin prickled, and I inched toward the entrance, staying low and quiet.
The cave was dim, its shadows longer and colder than the night before. I crept forward, the ancient carvings like ghostly reminders that we were never really alone here. The voices grew clearer, one of them unmistakable.
“Ewan.” The name hit me like a fist to the chest. I didn’t need to see him to know that voice. But what the hell was he doing out here? And why didn’t I feel relief—just fear?
Through the veil of vines, I saw them.
Ewan stood with a hooded figure, the morning light casting them in silhouettes that seemed larger than life. That voice. Smooth, sharp-edged, and familiar in a way that made my stomach twist. I didn’t have a name, but my bones remembered it—and they wanted to run. They were close, talking with a kind of urgency that only came with secrets. My pulse quickened. I stayed hidden, barely breathing, willing myself to catch what they were saying.
Ewan gestured sharply, his movements angry and frustrated. I strained to hear, edging forward, knowing how stupid it was to put myself at risk of being seen. But I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not with them so close, not with everything suddenly on the line. I tuned into my wolf senses and sharpened my hearing to make out the words they spoke.
“...alpha is getting too attached to the girl,” Ewan said, his words clear and cutting.