Chapter 5 — The Night of Passion And Confusion

SIERRA'S POV 

I told myself I’d leave before dawn, but I hadn’t moved far, not when I could still feel him.

Even with the distance between us, the bond thrummed faintly under my skin. I tried to ignore it, to drown it under the sound of rain, but it was like trying to forget how to breathe. His presence clung to the edges of my thoughts.

Isaak.

The crack of a branch behind me didn’t surprise me since I knew he was following. His scent hit a heartbeat later and my heart betrayed me with its skip.

“I told you to stay away,” I said, barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer. I could hear his growl even through the rain. When I turned, the world seemed to tilt. He stood just a few feet away, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead, his shirt clinging to muscle and scar. His eyes burned that impossible silver, bright even through the darkness.

“I couldn’t,” he said finally. “Every step I take away from you hurts.”

I laughed, but it cracked with venom. “Please.”

He kept moving toward me, slow enough that I could have run. I backed up until the bark of the tree pressed against my shoulders.

The distance vanished. His heat wrapped around me before he even touched me, and when his fingers brushed a raindrop from my jaw, the bond came alive with a spark that traveled through me like lightning. 

“This isn’t right,” I said, but even as the words left me, my hands rose of their own accord, fingers catching in his soaked shirt.

He nodded once, jaw tight. “No. It’s not.”

And still, he didn’t move away.

When his hand cupped my neck, the contact stole my breath. My wolf stirred beneath my skin, not in pain but recognition, whispering the word I refused to say. 

Mine.

His thumb stroked the hollow of my throat, feeling the hammer of my pulse. My body betrayed me entirely, arching toward him, desperate for a closeness I swore I didn’t want. His other hand slid to my waist, fingers gripping, dragging me forward until my chest brushed his. The rain hissed between us, the heat of our skin steaming against the chill.

He dipped his head. The first brush of his lips was hesitant, then something in both of us broke.

The kiss hit like a storm. His mouth crashed into mine, hungry, wet, tasting of rain and salt and every swallowed word between us. I gasped against him as his hands pulled me closer, molding me against the hard lines of his body. I could feel every heartbeat, every tremor, the strength he used to hold himself back.

But restraint burned fast.

When his tongue slid past my lips, the kiss deepened, our breath mingling in needy bursts. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him growl, a low, animal sound that vibrated against my mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice breaking on the word. “Ari,”

My name was a plea.

He pressed me back into the tree, hips aligning with mine, the evidence of his want hard and insistent through soaked fabric. I arched against him, the friction sending a desperate shudder through me.

His hand slid down, cupping my thigh, lifting it until I was half-wrapped around him. The move stole the last of my balance, forcing me to cling to him. The bark scraped against my back; his body was hot against the cold.

He kissed me again until all that existed was breath and heat and the pulse between us. The rain plastered our clothes to our skin, every contour visible, every movement amplified by the slickness of it.

I felt him through the thin layers, thick and hot against my thigh, and the shock of wanting him hit me like lightning. My hips rolled before I could stop them.

He groaned and that sound undid me.

His hand slid under my shirt, palm dragging up over my stomach, tracing heat along my ribs. When he reached my breast, I gasped, the sound breaking high and breathless as his thumb brushed the hardened peak. He paused, eyes flicking up to mine, searching for refusal. There was none left in me.

He leaned in, kissed my throat, bit lightly, sucked until I whimpered.

The sound made him shudder. He pushed my shirt up, mouth following, kissing down the curve of my breast, tongue flicking over my nipple before he drew it between his lips. The jolt of pleasure made my knees go weak.

The bond pulsed harder now, our marks glowing faintly where they touched, silver threads of light curling through the rain.

I tugged at his shirt, desperate, clumsy. He pulled it over his head, rain-dark hair clinging to his skin, muscles gleaming. I dragged my hands over his chest, tracing the scars, the heat, the rise and fall of breath. He caught my wrist, pressed my palm flat over his heart. The mark there glowed in sync with mine.

“You feel that?” he said hoarsely.

I nodded, unable to speak.

He kissed me again, softer this time, but it only made the ache worse. Then his hand slid between us,brushing my thigh, and I gasped as his fingers slipped beneath. The contrast of cold rain and the heat of his hand made my whole body arch.

“Isaak,”

“Shh,” he murmured against my ear, “let me.”

His fingers found me slick and the first slow stroke dragged a cry from my throat, “goddess,” My head fell back against the tree, mouth open, rain running over my face as he touched me.

The bond flared wild with each movement, the glow spreading like liquid silver through my veins.

He pressed his forehead to mine, panting. “You drive me insane.”

I gasped, hips trembling against his hand.

His thumb found between my legs, rubbing slow, tight circles until I couldn’t think. The sound of the rain faded into the rhythm of breath and skin. My body clenched around nothing, the edge building faster than I could brace for.

When I came, it was in a rush that stole the air from my lungs. “Isaak,”

He swallowed the sound in another kiss, his hand holding me through every tremor. 

Before I could recover, he was unfastening his pants, movements frantic. I barely registered the sound of the zipper over the pounding of blood in my ears. He looked at me once, just once, and I nodded, unable to resist the gravity that had always pulled us together.

He lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist, the head of his cock pressing against me. The first thrust broke me open with a gasp that echoed through the trees. 

He moved slowly at first, each push deeper, harder, until the sound of our bodies blurred with the storm. The rain streamed down our skin, slicking every movement. I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, panting his name against his throat.

He groaned, a sound that shook against my chest. “You feel, fuck, so good,”

Each thrust sent ripples of silver through the mark at my collarbone. Our rhythm turned desperate, his hips driving me against the tree, the rough bark biting into my back, every ounce of pain twisted into pleasure.

I cried out as another wave hit, my body tightening around him. His rhythm faltered. He groaned my name into my mouth and then he came, until there was nothing left but heat and our ragged breaths.

He dressed me quietly and, using his shirt as a makeshift shirt, pulled me to sit with him against the tree. We stayed like that, our marks glowing faintly in the gray light filtering through the storm. The world had gone still again.

When the last drops fell, he was quiet, pulling me against his chest. Our hearts beat in unison, the bond’s hum soft and tender. For the first time since the rejection, it didn’t hurt.

But I knew it wouldn’t last.

When I finally pulled away, he was already drifting into sleep, exhaustion softening the harsh lines of his face. I watched him, memorizing the impossible softness of that moment.

Quietly, I reached down to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, my throat tightened.

“Forgive me,” I whispered. “But I can’t stay to be your regret.”

The air was sharp with the scent of him, the ache of what we’d done clinging like a bruise.

As I crossed the border, I didn’t look back.

The dawn broke over the trees, pale and clean, washing the fore

st in silver light. I walked until the scent of him was gone, until all that remained was the sound of my own breathing.