Page 11 of Wolf Proclaimed

Chapter Six

Tangled Threads of Wildflowers

Mira

The morning sun painted the landscape in a golden hue as I stood on the edge of the practice field. It was more peaceful than the day before when the air had been filled with the harsh sounds of our training. Bastian's rough grip as he pinned me down still tingled on my skin, a phantom feeling I couldn't shake off. I remembered the fleeting spark in his eyes, which mirrored my surprise. It was an unexpected fire, but he quickly hid his arousal, pressing against my thigh.

A challenge began to form in my mind. I was never one to back down from a challenge, and Bastian presented a fascinating one. With a plan taking shape, I made my way toward him, where he sat tending to a batch of freshly whittled arrows.

"Need a hand there?" I asked, keeping my voice gentle and playful.

His gaze snapped up, a look of surprise quickly transforming into suspicion. "I think I can manage."

His curt response did nothing but fuel my determination. I stepped closer, my voice dropping an octave. "I'm sure you can," I countered, "but everything is more fun when shared."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, with an unspoken tension between us. I noticed Bastian glancing at my lips before quickly looking away. Ignoring his discomfort, I picked up one of the arrows, my fingers purposely brushing against his. His hand jerked, but I kept my gaze steady, my eyes on the arrow.

"You're good at crafting these," I murmured, feeling him relax slightly.

He chuckled softly, a fondness in his voice. "When I was a kid, I nearly cut my fingers off one day when I was learning."

I laughed along with Bastian his softness inviting me in. The scent of woodsmoke and pine that clung to him tugged at my memory of my father teaching my sisters and me how to hunt.

Emboldened, I stepped even closer. Our bodies almost brushed against each other. "Teach me," I whispered, close enough for my breath to ghost over Bastian's skin.

The arrow slipped from my grasp, falling to the ground, but we both ignored it. Our gazes held, a moment of understanding passing between us. Hesitation wrestled with the rush of feelings, making my heart race. As I watched the fire spark once more in Bastian's eyes, I realized I had pushed our flirtation a bit too far. But I didn't regret it. The heady connection that flared between us was too intoxicating to resist.

Our bodies were so close now. The heat radiating off Bastian felt like a magnetic pull. My heart hammered in my chest, and each beat echoed the rhythm of an unspoken dance leading us toward the edge. The tension was almost unbearable.

His gaze was hypnotizing, a deep blue ocean filled with shadows and storms. He was so close that I could see the flecks of gold dancing in those stormy depths, a fire that matched the one blazing in me. Our breaths tangled in the tiny space between us, filling the air with anticipation.

"I should go," he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction. I felt a thrill of victory—Bastian was struggling just as I was.

The air felt thick and heavy with unspoken words and suppressed desires. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek, the slight tremor in his hands that hovered just above my waist. The moment was teetering on the edge, waiting for one of us to tip it over.

"Why?" I asked, tilting my head slightly, my lips a breath away from his. I could smell the mint on his breath, a refreshing counter to the spicy tension between us.

His eyes darted down to my lips, a quick, unmistakable glance that sent a shiver down my spine. The electricity between us was tangible like we were two opposing poles being drawn together despite ourselves.

His resolve was crumbling. I could see it in the way his gaze softened, in the way he swayed closer. "I can't…." He started but couldn't finish, his voice catching in his throat.

"You can," I whispered, feeling brave and reckless. I leaned in, my heart pounding louder than the blood rushing in my ears. "Bastian..."

But just as our lips were about to meet, he jerked back. His eyes were wide, his breaths shallow. He was a picture of conflict and restraint, fighting a battle I desperately wanted him to lose. Our moment was suspended, a smoldering ember threatening to ignite.

And in the silence that followed, I knew our dance was far from over.

The moment shattered as a sudden jolt raced through my body. It was like a wave of electricity, a raw force that left me gasping. My senses flared wildly, overpowering me with a flood of sight, sound, and scent. The change was upon me, a tidal wave crashing down and swallowing me whole.

I could hear my heart beating loudly. Each beat reflected the primal instinct of my wolf side. The need to run, hunt, and dominate filled me, overtaking every rational thought. My vision sharpened, the world around me vibrant and alive jarringly intensely.

Bastian, so close just a moment ago, now seemed a world away. He was watching me, his eyes wide with alarm. I saw his mouth move, words forming that I couldn't hear over the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

Fear ignited within me, a flicker that quickly turned into a blaze. This wasn't right. It wasn't time. The moon wasn't full. The night hadn't fallen. Yet here I was, on the brink of the transformation. I tried to hold it back, to contain the surging power within me. But it was like trying to stop the tide.

Bastian reached for me, his voice breaking through the roar in my head. But even as he touched my arm, I recoiled. My wolf side was wild, untamed, and his touch felt like a threat.

"Get away! You had your chance," I gasped, the words barely more than a whisper. I stumbled back, breaking away from him. His expression was one of hurt and confusion, a mirror to the turmoil I was feeling.

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