Who is your mate?

SHAWN

I make it halfway down the gravel path before I realize I’m shaking from frustration.

I stop near the edge of the training field, hands on my hips, staring out at the treeline. Wolves move in the distance, running drills under the morning sun.

Unlike the chaos inside that house.

Footsteps crunch behind me.

“If you’re here to confiscate my coffee for safety reasons, I already finished it.”

“Kane,” I say flatly.

He stops a few feet behind me. Not touching.

“I’m not here to confiscate anything,” he says.

“Good. I was worried hydration would become a territory violation.”

“You’re angry.” He added.

“Brilliant observation. "

“You don’t get to manage me,” I say. “You don’t get to dictate where I walk or what I eat or how I breathe.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

The immediate agreement throws me off.

I narrow my eyes. “Then why are you doing it?”

His gaze holds mine.

“Because I’m trying not to do something worse.”

“Worse how?”

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“You don’t want the honest answer.”

“Try me.”

Silence stretches between us.

Wind moves through the trees . But the space between us feels suspended.

“You felt it,” he says finally.

My pulse stutters.

“Felt what?”

His eyes don’t waver.

“That shift last night.”

I open my mouth to deflect.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I say instead.

“It means everything.”He growls.

My chest tightens.

“No,” I say. “It means it was intense. It means you stared at me like you were about to either kiss me or arrest me. It doesn’t mean—”

His gaze drops briefly to my mouth. Then back to my eyes.

“Or kiss you?” he repeats, low.

Heat surges up my neck.

“That was an example.”

“Was it?”

“This isn’t funny,” I say.

He takes one slow step closer.

“You think I enjoy this?” he asks quietly.

“Enjoy what?”

“Losing control.”

The honesty in his voice.

“You don’t look out of control,” I say.

“I am.”

“You keep saying that,” I murmur. “Like I’m the problem.”

“You’re not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

He exhales slowly.

“The timing.”

My stomach drops.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting right now.”

Frustration sparks again. “You don’t get to be cryptic and territorial and then expect me to just accept it.”

“I am not territorial.”

“You almost growled at someone for standing too close to me last night.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

I take a step closer before I can second-guess it.

“Why?” I demand softly.

My heart starts pounding.

“Mike knows,” I say slowly.

Kane doesn’t answer.

That’s answer enough.

“What did you tell him?”

His jaw tightens.

“Shawn.”

“No.” I shake my head.

The air around him feels charged.

“I told him the truth,” he says.

Ice slides down my spine.

“What truth?”

His voice drops lower.

“That the Moon Goddess revealed something to me.”

My pulse slams in my ears.

“No,” I breathe.

He doesn’t deny it.

“That’s not possible,” I say, stepping back now.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I’m human.”

“I’m aware.”

“That bond—” My voice cracks slightly. “That bond is wolf to wolf.”

“Usually.”

I stare at him.

“Usually?” I repeat.

“You need to calm down,” he says.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.”

Wind rushes between us. Training noises fade into background static.

“You’re saying,” I press, voice unsteady now, “that whatever happened last night wasn’t random.”

“No.”

“That it wasn’t just tension.”

“No.”

“That it wasn’t just attraction.”

His eyes burn.

“No.”

The world tilts slightly.

I laugh once—sharp, disbelieving. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“Have I?”

“Yes.”

He steps forward again.

My body reacts before my brain catches up—heat, awareness, that same pull tightening in my chest.

“You felt it,” he says quietly. “Don’t lie.”

I hate that he’s right.

“That doesn’t mean—”

“It means my wolf chose.”

My breath leaves me.

I’ve heard that word my entire life in pack stories.

“No,” I whisper.

“Yes.”

My heart pounds violently.

“That’s not how this works,” I say again, weaker now.

“It is when the Goddess decides.”

My hands curl into fists.

“This isn’t real.”

“It is.”

“You don’t get to just decide I’m—”

“I didn’t decide.”

The force in his voice cracks through my denial.

“You are my mate.”

The world goes silent. My stomach drops so hard it feels like falling.

“You don’t get to say that,” I whisper.

“I didn’t want to.”

The admission hits almost as hard.

“I don’t belong to you.”

His jaw tightens.

“I know.”

“Then don’t look at me like I do.”

“You think I can turn this off?”

My breathing turns uneven.

“This is insane.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t choose this.”

“Neither did I.”

“I need space,” I say suddenly.

“You’re not leaving the territory,” he says, voice strained.

I let out a breathless laugh. “You just proved my point.”

“I’m not trying to cage you.”

“It feels like it.”

Pain flickers across his expression.

“I need time,” I say.

“You have it.”

“I need distance.”

“Shawn.”

“If you follow me,” I say quietly, “I will run.”

His nostrils flare.

“You don’t have to accept it,” he says roughly. “But it’s real.”

My throat tightens.

“I don’t know what to do with that.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he says.

“That’s not true.”

Our eyes lock one last time. Maybe it’s fate.

I turn and walk away before he can see the realization on my face.