Chapter 11
833words
"We've got a situation at the border," he says, not looking up from his paperwork. "Blackwater's requesting medical assistance for a training accident. Several injured wolves."
My heart sinks. "Can't you go? I have appointments all afternoon."
"Sarah can handle those. They specifically asked for you." He finally meets my eyes. "Apparently you made quite an impression last time."
Of course they did. Of course he did.
An hour later, I'm in the pack ambulance heading toward the border again, my stomach in knots. Is this coincidence, or did Ivan arrange it? Either way, I'm not ready to face him again.
The scene at the training ground is controlled chaos—five injured wolves being treated by Blackwater medics, others clearing equipment from the field. I spot Ivan immediately, his tall figure unmistakable as he directs operations.
I focus on the patients, letting my training take over. Most injuries are minor—sprains, cuts, one dislocated shoulder I reset with practiced hands. I work methodically, keeping my back to where I know Ivan stands.
"Thank you for coming," a deep voice says behind me as I pack my supplies. I don't need to turn to know it's him.
"Just doing my job," I say, continuing to organize my kit.
"Lucille." Just my name, but the way he says it makes my wolf stir eagerly.
I finally turn, steeling myself against the impact of those silver eyes. "Alpha Black."
His jaw tightens at the formal address. "Walk with me."
It's not a request. I follow him away from the others, toward the edge of the clearing where a small stream marks the boundary between our territories.
"You've been avoiding me," he says once we're out of earshot.
"I told you I needed time."
"It's been a week."
Has it only been that long? It feels like years since our confrontation in the forest.
"I'm still figuring things out," I say, wrapping my arms around myself.
Ivan steps closer, and my wolf practically purrs at his proximity. "Have you spoken to Damon?"
I shake my head, unable to meet his eyes. "Not yet."
"Lucille." His voice softens. "Look at me."
Against my better judgment, I do. The intensity in his silver gaze makes my breath catch.
"Whatever you're afraid of," he says quietly, "we can face it together."
Before I can stop him, he reaches out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. The simple touch sends electricity racing through me, my wolf surging forward with such force that I gasp.
I step back quickly. "Don't."
"Your body betrays you," he says, not unkindly. "Your wolf knows what you refuse to accept."
"It's not that simple," I whisper, tears threatening again. Why can't I stop crying around him?
"Then explain it to me," he urges, moving closer again. "Help me understand why you're fighting this so hard."
A tear escapes, sliding down my cheek. "I can't."
Ivan's expression softens further, concern replacing frustration. "You're trembling," he observes, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over my shoulders before I can protest.
His scent envelops me, comforting and overwhelming at once. My wolf settles immediately, content to be surrounded by our mate's essence.
"Talk to me, Lucille," Ivan says gently. "Please."
Something in his voice—a vulnerability I haven't heard before—breaks through my defenses. "I'm scared," I admit, the words barely audible.
"Of me?" He looks pained at the thought.
"No," I say quickly. "Of... this. Of what it means."
Ivan takes my hands in his, and this time I don't pull away. "Being mates isn't a prison sentence," he says softly. "It's a gift. The rarest, most precious connection two wolves can share."
A sob escapes me. If only he knew how literal a sentence it truly is.
"Lucille," he murmurs, pulling me gently into his arms.
I should resist. I should pull away. Instead, I find myself leaning into his embrace, my face pressed against his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady under my ear. My wolf sighs with contentment, finally where she believes we belong.
For a moment, I let myself imagine what it could be like—accepting the mate bond, being with Ivan, having years of happiness before the curse claims me. Would it be worth it? Worth the inevitable end?
"I can feel you thinking," Ivan says, his hand stroking my hair. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."
The certainty in his voice only makes me cry harder. There's no figuring this out, no happy ending for us.
"I have to go," I say suddenly, pulling away from his warmth. "I can't do this."
Confusion and hurt flash across his face. "Lucille—"
"Please," I cut him off. "Just... let me go."
This time, he doesn't try to stop me as I walk away, though I feel his eyes on me until I reach the ambulance.
My wolf whines pitifully all the way back to Moonhaven, mourning what we're leaving behind.
