Chapter 14

Sebastian POV

I sat alone in my car outside Audrey’s apartment, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. The engine was off, the streetlight buzzed above me, and the only movement was the occasional passing car. But all I could think about was the look in her eyes when I left.

She had kissed me like I was everything—and still, I walked away.

Because I had to.

Because if I didn’t, I would’ve told her everything. That I wasn’t just some guy falling hard for her. That I wasn’t even fully human. That she belonged to me in ways she couldn’t understand yet. That I’d already claimed her in every way that mattered, even if she didn’t know it.

Fuck.

I leaned back in the seat and let out a heavy breath, staring up through the windshield at the dark clouds slowly shifting across the sky. The moon was half-full tonight, glowing with just enough pull to make Axle stir restlessly inside me.

“Go back to her,” he growled.

“I can’t,” I muttered aloud. “She needs space.”

“She needs us. She’s ours.”

I ran a hand through my hair, dragging my nails across my scalp like the pressure might ease the ache behind my eyes. It didn’t. Axle wasn’t wrong. Every bone in my body screamed at me to go back, to wrap her in my arms, to mark her and make it clear to every soul in the city that Audrey belongs to me.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

She was still so new to all this. Still doubting her worth, still shaking from the emotional wreckage her mother left behind. If I gave her everything now—the truth, the bond, my world—it would only overwhelm her. She needed time to feel like she was making her own choices. Not that she was falling under some kind of spell.

And gods, if only she knew how true that actually was.

The memory of her soft voice whispering “Don’t leave me” haunted me. I didn’t answer then. I just kissed her. I had to go. But the truth is, I was terrified.

Not of her.

Of myself.

She had no idea what I really was, what claiming a mate meant in my world. The rage, the possessiveness, the need to protect her at all costs. It was feral. Unrelenting. And if anyone—anyone—ever dared to hurt her again, they wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.

I swallowed hard and turned the key in the ignition, just to hear the engine hum, to give me something to ground myself.

But I didn’t drive away.

I watched the building. Her windows were dark now. She was probably curled up in bed, maybe still crying. I hated myself for that. I hated the way her mother’s words had shattered her spirit like glass. I hated that I hadn’t stayed and held her through it.

But more than anything, I hated that I didn’t feel like I had the right to.

Because I was still lying to her.

And yet, even now, I couldn’t stay away.

I opened the glove compartment and pulled out the small velvet pouch I kept hidden there. Inside was a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon. My mother gave it to me when I was a boy—before she died. It was etched with old runes, sacred to our kind, and meant to protect. It had once been hers. Now, it belonged to Audrey.

I hadn’t planned to give it to her yet.

But tonight changed everything.

I stared at it in my palm, the metal cool against my skin, the weight of its meaning pressing down on me like gravity. This wasn’t just a gift. It was a promise. A tether. A token from an Alpha to his destined mate.

She might not understand the full truth behind it yet, but I knew she’d feel the intention in her bones.

And that’s why I finally got out of the car.

I crossed the quiet street and crept up the front steps of her apartment building. The lights inside were low, no movement behind the windows. I didn’t want to knock, didn’t want to wake her, or make her think I was back to confuse her more.

I just needed to leave something behind.

So she’d know I was still with her.

That I’d always be with her.

I slid the pendant into the envelope I had in my pocket and scribbled a note on the back of a bakery receipt I found in the glovebox earlier today.

For protection. For strength. For you. Always yours—S.

I folded the paper carefully and tucked it inside the envelope, then gently slipped it through the slot in her door.

Axle calmed instantly.

“She’ll know,” he rumbled in satisfaction. “She’ll feel it.”

I hoped he was right.

I walked back to the car, each step feeling heavier than the last. I didn’t want to leave her alone tonight. Not when I knew she’d lie awake questioning everything. But I also knew this space, this silence, was necessary. For her. For us.

Still, as I sat back behind the wheel, I couldn’t stop the nagging fear that she’d wake up tomorrow and change her mind. That she’d convince herself she was never good enough. That she’d listen to her mother’s voice instead of mine.

I needed to show her that she didn’t have to be perfect to be loved.

That she didn’t have to earn her worth.

She just had to be.

Audrey.

My Audrey.

I started the car, finally forcing myself to drive away, but my eyes flicked up to her window in the rearview mirror one last time. And even though I couldn’t see her, I whispered into the dark:

“You’re mine, Audrey. Whether you know it yet or not.”

And when the time was right, I’d tell her everything. The truth about who I was. About the bond we shared. About the wild, eternal thing that pulled me to her like gravity.

But for now, I’d give her the space to feel safe, while quietly preparing for the moment she’d step fully into my world—and never look back.