Page 67 of When Two Worlds Collide

We don’t make it to the furs. The earthen floor of the tent becomes our bed as he presses me down, covering my body with his. There’s no gentleness now—we’re beyond that luxury. This is survival, pure and elemental.

I wrap my legs around him, urging him closer, deeper.He enters me in one powerful thrust that tears a cry from my throat. The sensation borders on pain—too much, too fast—but the bond sings with relief, with rightness.

“I need—” he groans against my throat.

“I know,” I gasp, arching beneath him. “Take it. Take what you need.”

He does.

There’s no ceremony in this coupling—just raw desperation as we chase something beyond pleasure. His teeth find the claiming mark at my throat, reopening it. The sharp pain sends lightning through my veins, the bond surging in response.

I sink my nails into his back, drawing blood, needing to mark him as thoroughly as he marks me. The bond demands symmetry, balance, and mutual claiming.

When climax takes us, it’s less about physical release than spiritual necessity. Power flows between us, healing the frayed edges of our connection. Not enough to complete what was interrupted, but enough to strengthen what exists.

We lie tangled together after, breath gradually slowing, the worst of the hollow ache temporarily soothed. I trace the lines of his face, memorizing the angles, the scars, the subtle softening around his eyes when he looks at me.

“It helped,” he murmurs, kissing my palm. “I can feel it.”

“Not enough,” I reply, feeling the truth of it in our still-unstable connection. “After the challenge?—”

“After,” he agrees, though concern shadows his expression. “If I?—”

I press my fingers to his lips. “Don’t. You’ll win. We’ll complete the bond properly. There is no other option.”

He smiles against my fingers, but the worry remains in his eyes. We both know the reality—an alpha facing a challenge with an incomplete mate bond fights at a disadvantage.The traditional source of strength remains partially blocked, accessible but unstable.

We dress in silence as twilight deepens outside. I borrow clothes from the pack stores—leather pants and a vest that mark me as Shadow Wolf by choice if not by birth. Zane watches me with appreciation as I braid my hair back, preparing for what comes.

“No matter what happens tonight,” he says as we prepare to leave the tent, “know that I chose this. Chose you. Even knowing the cost.”

“There won’t be a cost,” I reply fiercely. “Only victory.”

But as we step outside to face the gathering pack, the moon rising blood-red above the trees, I feel the truth resonate through our bond. I can no longer be two things—Haven’s Heart ambassador and Shadow Wolf mate. Tonight forces a choice.

And I’ve already made it.

17

ZANE

The challenge circle glows beneath the blood moon, ancient stones marking boundaries that have witnessed a thousand battles for dominance. My pack forms a living wall around the perimeter—some faces showing support, others barely concealed hunger for my fall.

I stand at the circle’s center, stripped to leather pants, skin already sheened with sweat from the incomplete bond’s drain. Every breath requires conscious effort. Every heartbeat echoes the hollow ache where full connection should pulse.

Ember waits at the circle’s edge with the other mated females, her presence both comfort and torment. Through our fractured bond, I feel her fierce determination, her absolute faith in my victory. It should strengthen me. Instead, it reminds me how much I stand to lose.

“Alpha Blackthorn.” Elder Riva’s voice cuts through the night air. “You face a formal challenge to your leadership. Three wolves question your fitness to lead the Shadow Wolf clan.”

I nod, not trusting my voice. Speaking requires energy I can’t spare.

“Challengers, state your grievances.”

Darin steps forward first—young, fast, hungry for glory. “Our alpha has betrayed pack traditions. He bonds with a civilized shifter. Bleeds for settlements. Weakens our bloodline with tainted connection.”

Murmurs ripple through the watching wolves. Some agreement, some dissent. The pack divides even as they witness.

“Who stands with this challenge?”

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