I'll be waiting.

Rose’s POV

His silver eyes held mine, steady and molten. “But I will see you at 7pm in my office, little omega.”

The words landed like a velvet-wrapped command, gentle yet absolute. They sank straight into my bones, into the raw new bond, into the place where my wolf already danced with joy at the promise of being near him again. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out except a broken sound—half plea, half surrender.

He didn’t step closer. He didn’t need to. The bond did the work for him, wrapping warm and patient around my fractured heart. “Doors locked. Wards up. No one will know it’s anything but a professor meeting with a student who needs help after hours. But there, in private… we talk. Or we sit in silence and let the bond steady itself. Whatever you need. I won’t push for more than you’re ready to give tonight. But I won’t let you vanish from my life completely, Rose. Not when this bond is still so new and raw and needs tending like any fresh wound. Come at 7pm. Please.”

His voice cracked—just barely—on the last word, and I felt it through the bond like a hairline fracture in diamond: raw, vulnerable, so full of love it stole the air from my lungs. The promise of 7pm hung between us, reasonable on the surface, devastating underneath. A bridge. A lifeline. A way to keep me close without shattering the very rules I was desperate to protect him from.

My wolf perked up instantly, tail flicking with desperate hope, ears pricked forward, flooding me with flashes of memory—his knot locking deep inside me, his teeth in my throat, the white-hot snap of the bond sealing us forever. *Tonight,* she rumbled. *Mate. Safe. Home.* I crushed the spark before it could ignite, but tears were already streaming down my face again, hot and unstoppable, tasting of salt and defeat.

“Jason…” His name came out broken, trembling.

“I know,” he murmured, voice like a caress against my raw nerves. “I know it feels impossible right now. But 7pm, little omega. I’ll be waiting.”

The bond tugged gently—warm, patient, carrying his love like an unextinguishable flame. I wanted to scream no. I wanted to run. But the words died in my throat, tangled with the image of him sitting alone in that office at 7pm, silver eyes on the door, waiting for the mate who might not come. Tangled with the way his thumb had stroked my cheek minutes ago. Tangled with the quiet certainty in his gaze that said he had already chosen this path—consequences and all—and nothing I said would change that.

I turned before I could answer, before the golden gravity of the bond could drag me back into his arms. My boots carried me to the heavy oak door on legs that felt numb and mechanical, trembling beneath me. The handle was cool under my palm, grounding for one final second. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. Because if I did, I would see the quiet hope in those silver eyes, the unwavering certainty that I would walk through his office door at 7pm tonight, heart hammering, and the bond would pull me one step closer to the future neither of us could outrun.

The corridor outside exploded with midday life—students laughing in tight clusters, alphas calling across the stone arches, the distant clatter of lunch trays rising from the dining hall like thunder. No one noticed the omega slipping out of the lecture hall with tear-streaked cheeks and a fresh claiming bite burning beneath her collar like a brand. No one saw the way my scent now carried unmistakable traces of pine smoke and cold iron, or the faint golden glow I couldn’t quite suppress in my eyes no matter how hard I blinked.

I walked faster, then faster still, until I was almost running, the bond tugging behind me—gentle but insistent, already counting down the hours until 7pm. Past the library arches where scholars bent over ancient tomes, quills scratching softly. Past the training fields where shifters warmed up for afternoon drills, grunts and laughter a cruel reminder of the normal life I was terrified of losing. Past the omega dorms where Lila would be waiting with questions and eyes that saw too much.

*Stay away. Leave me alone.*

The words echoed in my head like a broken mantra, a shield already cracking. But underneath them, softer, traitorous, inevitable: *7pm. His office. Just tonight.*

My wolf howled inside me—a sound of pure loss mixed with desperate, aching hope.

But I kept walking.

Because love wasn’t always about staying in the daylight. Sometimes it was about slipping through shadows at 7pm, heart in my throat, knowing the man waiting behind that locked door had already chosen ruin for me and still looked at me like I was worth every single consequence.

Even if it broke us both.

Even if part of me already knew I would be there at 7pm, notes clutched like flimsy armor, body aching, soul reaching for the alpha who owned me completely.