CHAPTER 2 The Space Between Heartbeats

Lena woke slowly, like she was swimming up through heavy water.

Warmth surrounded her. Not the sticky, suffocating kind — a steady, even heat that made her muscles loosen one by one as awareness crept back in.

The first thing she noticed was the quiet.

No traffic. No humming fridge. No neighbors arguing through thin apartment walls.

Just wind through trees… and a faint crackling sound.

Fire.

Her eyes opened.

Wooden beams crossed the ceiling above her. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, landing in golden stripes across a wide room built from stone and logs. A fire burned low in a massive hearth across from where she lay on a couch covered in thick blankets.

For a moment, she just stared.

Then memory crashed in.

Red moon. Wolves. Teeth. Eyes.

The man.

She bolted upright.

Pain didn’t stab — it bloomed. A deep, full-body soreness like she’d run a marathon she didn’t remember starting. Her senses felt… loud. The fire snapped too sharply. The air carried layers of scent she couldn’t name.

And underneath all of it—

Him.

Her head turned toward the feeling before her mind caught up.

He stood near the far wall, half in shadow, watching her like he’d been standing there a long time.

Relief hit his face so fast it made her chest tighten.

“You’re awake,” he said quietly.

His voice did something strange to her. It didn’t just reach her ears — it settled somewhere lower, warmer, like her body recognized it before she did.

She swallowed. “Please tell me I hallucinated the giant wolves.”

His mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed serious. “I can’t do that.”

She dragged a hand through her hair, wincing at the sensitivity of her scalp. “Okay. Cool. Love that for me.”

He didn’t laugh, but something softened in his posture. Less coiled. Less braced for her to run.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“My pack house,” he said. “You’re safe here.”

Safe.

The word slid into her chest and settled there like it belonged.

That scared her more than the wolves.

She looked down at herself, noticing oversized clothes — soft flannel shirt, loose drawstring pants. “Did you—”

“A pack member helped,” he said quickly, gaze flicking away in clear discomfort. “You were unconscious.”

“Right. Because of course I was.” She looked back at him. “Start talking.”

He stepped closer, slow enough not to crowd her. Like approaching a skittish animal.

“I’m Kael,” he said. “I lead the wolves you saw last night.”

“Lead as in…?”

“Alpha.”

She stared at him.

“You’re telling me werewolves are real. And you’re their boss.”

A small exhale through his nose. “That’s one way to put it.”

“And the ones attacking?”

“Rogues. Wolves without a pack.”

She absorbed that in stunned silence.

“And me?” she asked quietly.

Something changed in his expression then. Not fear.

Reverence. Wonder. Restraint all tangled together.

“You were born with the wolf dormant in your blood,” he said. “Last night triggered it.”

Her pulse thudded. “So I’m just… what? A baby werewolf?”

His lips almost curved. “Something like that.”

She swung her legs off the couch, testing her balance. The room tilted slightly, but she stayed upright.

He moved instinctively, hands lifting like he might steady her — then stopping himself.

That hesitation didn’t go unnoticed.

“You can touch me,” she said before thinking.

His breath caught.

So did hers.

The air between them shifted — thicker, charged. Not uncomfortable.

Intimate.

He stepped closer, slower this time, like every inch mattered. His hand hovered near her arm, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his skin before he actually made contact.

When his fingers finally brushed her sleeve, a spark shot up her arm.

Not painful.

Right.

Her breath hitched.

His jaw tightened like he’d felt it too.

“What is that?” she whispered.

His voice dropped. “The mate bond.”

Her heart skipped. “You keep saying that like it explains everything.”

“It doesn’t,” he said. “It complicates everything.”

She searched his face. No smirk. No smug certainty.

Just conflict.

“You don’t like it?” she asked.

A faint frown touched his brow. “I don’t like that it puts pressure on you. That your first days knowing this world come with… that.” His thumb flexed slightly against her sleeve, like even that small contact took effort to keep contained. “You deserve choice. Not instinct deciding your life.”

The sincerity in that hit harder than any supernatural revelation.

“You’re not trying to claim me,” she said slowly.

“No,” he answered immediately. “Not unless you choose it. Not ever without that.”

Something inside her unclenched.

The pull was still there — a steady gravity drawing her toward him — but now it felt less like a trap…

And more like an invitation she could accept or refuse.

“That’s… surprisingly decent of you,” she muttered.

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Don’t sound so shocked.”

She met his eyes fully now.

Big mistake.

Warmth spread through her chest, slow and deep. Not just attraction. Not just instinct.

Recognition.

Like finding a place she hadn’t known she’d been missing.

Her voice came out softer. “Why do I feel like I’ve known you longer than five minutes?”

“Because some part of you has,” he said quietly.

Silence stretched between them — not awkward. Full.

Her wolf stirred under her skin, not restless.

Curious.

Drawn.

She became suddenly aware that his hand was still on her arm. That she hadn’t moved away.

That she didn’t want to.

So she didn’t.

Outside, wind moved through the trees. The fire cracked. The world kept turning.

But in that small space between them…

Something had begun.

Not explosive.

Not overwhelming.

A slow, steady pull that promised if she stepped closer…

She wouldn’t be falling alone.