Chapter 50

If that was the truth, didn’t that mean Zephyr was also going crazy because of our bond?

"Zephyr, actually... I have these weird feelings about our relationship," I admitted, deciding to be honest. "The more you avoid me, the more uncomfortable I feel—even though I don’t understand why."

No matter how much we tried to adapt to the modern world, we couldn’t escape what we were. Werewolves’ relationships weren’t like humans.

Suppressing our instincts—desire, possessiveness, the pull of our bond—was unnatural.

We couldn’t expect to have a real relationship without having sex or intimacy—because, at our core, we were still creatures of instinct.

If we kept acting like business partners instead of true mates, all we would gain was frustration.

Two months might not seem like much now, but what about a year? Two years?

The feelings we kept shoving aside wouldn’t just disappear. We would bottle them up until eventually, something inside us snapped.

And when an Alpha lost control, the consequences were dangerous. Going feral. Turning rogue. I’d heard the stories, and I didn’t want that for Zephyr.

I didn’t want to be the reason he suffered.

I swallowed hard. "I know what happens when an Alpha claims his mate. I know that ignoring it won’t make it go away." I hesitated for a moment before forcing myself to say the words out loud. "I don’t mind if you ... if you want to do it."

My face burned, but I didn’t take the words back.

"This isn’t about repaying you for everything you’ve done for me," I continued, my voice softer now. "Zephyr, I’m frustrated too."

And in that moment, I wondered—was I brave for saying this, or was I just as desperate as a bitch in heat?

But the truth was, I wanted to be touched by him.

It was fine if he didn’t want to have sex with me, but just holding hands felt too insignificant for what we were.

Maybe he could kiss me—not something heated, just something. That would be enough.

I just wanted to be close enough to breathe him in, to feel his warmth, to exist in the space where neither of us had to pretend we weren’t aching for more.

Zephyr was quiet for a long moment, his gray eyes looking into mine as if trying to find an answer I hadn’t spoken aloud. His fingers twitched slightly, as though he was restraining himself from reaching out.

"Samantha ..." His voice was softer now, almost hesitant. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

I swallowed, my heart pounding. "I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t."

A muscle in his jaw tensed.

I could see his internal struggle, the way his fingers twitched like he was fighting the urge to reach for me. Zephyr was always in control, always measured. But for the first time, I saw something crack beneath that careful appearance.

He let out a harsh sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You don’t understand what you’re asking."

I straightened. "Then explain it to me."

His lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, after a moment of hesitation, his fingers brushed against my cheek. It was barely a touch, the lightest graze, but it sent a shiver through me.

I leaned into his palm, closing my eyes for a second, feeling his warmth. He always felt warm and safe. But underneath it, I could sense his tension—his hunger that had been restrained for such a long time.

He wanted to devour me, biting my body again and leaving new marks on my neck.

When I opened my eyes, Zephyr was still watching me. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze burned with desire over me.

Oh, I was still a magnet for him after all.

"I can’t promise to be gentle with you," he murmured, his voice quieter now, rougher. "Not the way I want to. The first time... we did it because we had to. But now, it’s different. This isn’t an obligation."

My lips curled into a warm smile, my gaze steady. "Then don’t be. I can handle it."

I wasn’t fragile, and I knew Zephyr would never push me past my limits.

And even if he did, what was a little pain to a werewolf?

Our bodies healed fast, our instincts ran deeper than logic.

What kind of werewolf made love without a few bites or a little pain?

Zephyr’s gaze burned into me, my words sinking deep into his chest. His restraint had always been fragile, held together by sheer self-control—but me? I was tempting him to break it, chipping away at it with nothing but my words and the way I looked at him.

I was testing his patience.

His fingers traced along my jaw—rough, yet careful—as if memorizing the shape of me. "You say that now," he murmured, his voice low and edged with warning. "But once we start, I won’t be able to stop."

I swallowed, my heart pounding harder. The tension between us was thick, electric, like standing at the edge of a storm. But I didn’t look away. "Then don’t."

A muscle in Zephyr’s jaw tensed, his self-control hanging by a thread. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the distance between us.