Chapter 177
The day started like any other—routine and predictable, yet the undercurrent of something unresolved buzzed beneath my skin.
I woke early, the sunlight pouring through the window of the ambassadors’ dormitory, gilding everything in soft gold. The air was crisp, but I barely noticed the chill as I dressed quickly, pulling my hair back into a loose braid. My schedule was packed, and I needed the distraction.
Anything to avoid thinking about him.
Jeremiah.
Even his name in my head made my pulse stir. It had been days since we last spoke. No words. No glances. Only silence thick with tension. He had slipped into his usual habit of keeping his distance, pretending the bond pulling between us didn’t exist. But I felt it, like a string tied tightly around my chest, tugging every time he was near—and lately, that string had been yanking hard.
I saw him that morning during weapons training. He stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, jaw tight, barking orders to a group of junior ambassadors. He didn’t look at me. Not once.
But I looked.
I couldn’t help it. The way his black shirt hugged his arms, the way his eyes narrowed in focus—it all made something hot and restless stir inside me. His presence was a gravity I couldn’t escape.
Anna noticed. She nudged me during a break and raised an eyebrow. “You going to tell me what’s going on between you and our fearless Alpha?”
I blinked. “Nothing.”
She snorted. “Right. ‘Nothing’ looks like you staring at him like you’re either going to punch him or kiss him.”
I shrugged and turned away, trying to ignore the heat crawling up my neck. I didn’t have the words to explain it. What do you say when your soul is tethered to someone who’s doing everything to sever the rope?
Later, in political strategy, I found my escape in Alex. Calm, cool, unreadable Alex. He sat beside me as always, jaw clenched in concentration while analyzing our simulation.
“You’d make a good war general,” I said as I jotted notes.
His lips twitched in a smirk. “Better a kingmaker than a king.”
“You say that like you’ve seen both.”
“I’ve lived both,” he said, glancing sideways at me.
That quiet confidence. That subtle danger in his words. There was more to Alex than he ever let on, and every time I chipped at the surface, he expertly rebuilt the wall.
I didn’t press. My thoughts were elsewhere. They always circled back to the Alpha who wouldn’t look at me.
That night, I needed air. Something about the way Jeremiah had stood closer than usual during weapons training, the brief flash of emotion in his eyes when our hands brushed—I couldn’t sleep. My heart was a drum, beating too loud for rest.
So I walked.
The forest behind the compound was quiet, painted in silver from the moonlight. My feet moved without thought, finding the old stone path that led to the cliffs overlooking the valley. I used to go there as a child when my powers first began to manifest. The wind always seemed gentler there. The earth more willing to listen.
But I wasn’t alone.
I felt him before I saw him.
Jeremiah stood at the edge of the cliff, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. His silhouette was sharp, cut from stone, but there was something restless in the set of his shoulders.
He turned slightly when he heard me, his expression unreadable.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said.
I crossed my arms. “And yet here you are.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose. “That’s different.”
“Why? Because you’re Alpha?” I stepped closer. “Or because you think staying away from me makes this bond easier to ignore?”
His jaw clenched. “Astrid—”
“I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel it,” I said, voice low but fierce. “Tired of pretending I don’t notice you watching me. Wanting me. Then acting like I’m poison the next second.”
Something snapped in his gaze. He turned fully, closing the distance between us in two long strides.
“You think this is easy for me?” he growled. “You think I don’t wake up every damn day fighting the urge to go to you? To take you. Protect you from everything and everyone, including myself?”
My breath hitched. “Then why don’t you?”
His hands shot out, grabbing my waist, pulling me flush against him. His body was heat and tension, every muscle coiled like a spring.
His lips were inches from mine, his breath hot against my skin. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“I’m not scared of you,” I whispered.
“You should be,” he said, voice hoarse.
I reached up, my hand brushing his cheek, feeling the war beneath his skin. “Then stop pretending. Just… feel. With me.”
And then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was not gentle. It was fire and hunger and desperation. His hands roamed my back, anchoring me to him like he couldn’t bear a second of distance. I kissed him back with everything I had, like I’d been starving for this.
His tongue slid against mine, claiming, devouring, and I moaned into the kiss, fisting my hands in his shirt. His control slipped. I felt it in the way he pressed me against the nearest tree, his hands gripping my thighs, lifting me just enough that I wrapped my legs around him without thinking.
I felt his wolf surge forward—wild, possessive, on the edge.
But then—he stopped.
Jeremiah tore himself away like the contact burned him. His chest heaved as he stared at me, eyes dark with regret and fury.
“No,” he said, his voice breaking.
“Why?” I breathed, lips swollen.
Jeremiah stepped back, running a trembling hand through his hair. The moonlight caught the anguish in his eyes, and for the first time, I saw the cracks in his armor.
“Because every time I look at you, Astrid,” he said, voice low and raw, “I remember. I remember the smell of blood. The screams. The way my sister's body looked when we found her. Your father did that. Your bloodline did that. You weren’t there, but your name… it carries it. It haunts me.”
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “I’m not him.”
“I know,” he said bitterly. “But it doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t undo the graves I stood over or the way my pack nearly burned to the ground. I built them back up from nothing. I led them through hell.”
His eyes locked onto mine. “And now you stand in front of me with his eyes, his blood in your veins, and I—” He broke off, voice trembling. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
My breath caught.
He looked away. “But if I choose you, I become the man who betrayed his own. I make you choose between your family and me. And I won’t do that to you. I won’t be the one who rips you apart the way your father did to mine.”
“I would choose you,” I whispered, voice cracking. “If it came to that, I’d choose you.”
He shook his head. “And I won’t let you.”
Silence stretched between us like a wound.
“You ask me to forgive,” he finally said, softer now. “But forgiveness doesn’t erase pain. And loving you doesn’t undo the dead. I’m trying, Astrid. But some parts of me are still stuck in that burning past."
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