Page 12 of When Two Worlds Collide

“Exactly.” She sits up, straightening her twisted clothing. “It means nothing.”

I watch her rebuild her diplomatic mask, hiding the wild creature I just tasted beneath propriety and control. The sight fills me with unexpected anger.

“Is that what you’ll tell yourself?” I ask. “When you’re back in your civilized bed, touching the bruise I left, telling yourself it was just adrenaline?”

Her hands still on her leather vest. “What else could it be?”

“The truth.” I sit up, facing her. “That underneath your ambassador title and diplomatic training, you’re still a predator. Still wild. Still hungry for something your domesticated world can’t provide.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you came apart in my arms just now. I know you wanted more.” I lean closer, not touching but close enough that she feels my heat. “I know you’ll think about this. About what would have happened if we hadn’t stopped.”

She stands abruptly. “I need to leave. The council will send forces if I don’t return.”

“In the morning, as agreed.”

“I won’t stay here. Not after—” She gestures between us.

“Afraid you’ll lose control again?” I stand as well, noting how she has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “Or afraid you’ll want to?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Liar.” I move past her to the tent entrance. “Kira will take you to the women’s shelter. Guards remain posted.”

I push through the flap before she can respond. Outside, I signal Kira and issue quick instructions. When I glance back, Ember stands in my tent’s entrance, leather clothes askew, lips swollen from our kiss, eyes smoldering with heat.

She looks wild. Free. And so utterly desirable.

4

EMBER

Iwake before dawn in the small shelter, the leather garments Marcus gave me yesterday still draped around my body. Only the occasional whisper of movement from night guards completing their final rounds disturbs the quiet of the Wolf clan’s temporary camp. The fur pallet beneath me provides unexpected comfort, though it bears no resemblance to my bed at the council headquarters.

My thoughts drift to last night’s conversation with Zane. His offer to show me why the Shadow Wolves feel connected to this land intrigued me beyond mere curiosity. A growing doubt about the council’s perspective has taken root in my mind—our view of these people might not just be incomplete but fundamentally wrong.

Soft footsteps approach my shelter. I sit up, alert yet calm.

“Ambassador.” A quiet female voice reaches me. “Alpha Blackthorn requests your presence for the morning hunt assignments.”

I stand and push aside the hide covering to find an olderwoman waiting outside. Silver streaks run through her black hair, and her face bears deep lines etched by decades of harsh living. Despite this, she holds herself with unmistakable dignity, back straight and proud.

She appraises me with measured assessment. “I’m Elder Mira. You caused quite a stir yesterday.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” I reply, though we both recognize the half-truth.

Her weathered face shows a hint of amusement. “Intention often matters less than result. Come. The pack gathers.”

I follow her toward the camp’s center, where wolves—some in human form, others as animals—form a loose circle. The gathering radiates primal vitality, unlike the structured formality of council meetings. Young wolves playfully nip at each other while establishing their positions until older pack members correct them with sharp glances.

Zane commands attention at the circle’s center, his massive form standing out even among his substantial pack members. He wears only simple leather pants, muscled torso bare despite the morning chill. Marcus stands nearby, occasionally murmuring comments that Zane acknowledges with brief responses.

Elder Mira guides me to join the other elders. I detect curious and occasionally hostile glances from pack members, but maintain my poise while watching their ritual.

When everyone assembles, Zane lifts his hand. Instant silence descends.

“The sun rises on Shadow Wolf territory,” he begins, his deep voice reaching every corner of the gathering. “Today we hunt, we train, we strengthen our claim to ancestral lands.”

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