Protective Instincts Novels & Stories

Bailey noticed, because of course she did. “I’m not saying.” “You kind of are.” “I am aggressively not saying. Look at me not saying.” She mimed zipping her mouth, then immediately failed. “But yes, instincts are real. They’re not excuses, though.” That made me look back. She leaned forward, serious now. “A wolf might feel the urge to guard, claim space, get close, bite the face off anyone who scares someone important. But feeling an urge and acting like a controlling garbage fire are different things.”

I knew deep down that he meant every word he said, I didn't doubt that he wouldn't be following through with his threat. "You and my father will agree to disagree but do not threaten my family because that is disrespectful to me. All he wants to do is protect me-" "Protect you from what exactly, me?" He said harshly, interrupting my sentence. I chose to ignore his comment and continued with mine. I rolled my eyes. "Even if he's trying to protect me from my mate he's only doing what you would do if it was your pup. It's a natural instinct for a wolf to protect its young and you know this."

"But then I look at Cain and Jax and see them alive and whole, and I know I'd do it all again. That's what family means. Doing whatever it takes to keep them safe." "Even if it destroys you in the process." "Even then." He reached across the table and took my hand. "When you walked into the bar that first night, something in me shifted. For the first time in years, I felt that protective instinct toward someone outside my immediate family. It was immediate and overwhelming and I didn't understand it." "The mate bond."

They faltered in the face of our united front, their attacks losing their edge. In that moment, I realized the power of protective instincts, the unyielding force that drove me to ensure Rowland's safety. It was not just duty or loyalty that propelled me forward; it was the profound connection we shared, forged through empathy, sympathy, and now, the embrace of protection. With our bond solidified, we fought on, a formidable force that could not be easily subdued. The battle continued to rage around us.

It was painful, a lesson learned through the countless heartaches of the past. My wolf-like instincts, a part of me I'd always felt connected to, surged forward. The primal urge to protect my brother, to defend our home from this storm within our family, was overwhelming. I felt torn between my human rationality and my wild instincts, a battle raging within me, mirroring the chaos we faced.

But this time, I had acted impulsively, driven solely by the need to shield Lyra from danger. Why did I allow myself to succumb to the primal surge of protective instinct? Was it a lapse in judgment, a fleeting abandonment of my strategic acumen in favour of raw emotion? Or perhaps it was the innate bond that tethered me to Lyra, transcending mere strategy and propelling me towards an instinctive need to shield her from harm.

"I‌ w​as p⁠rotecting my family. The curse makes us pa‌ranoid. Def⁠ensiv‌e. I rea⁠cted on i‍n​stinct—" "‍Your‍ ins‌tinct mur‌dered the onl‍y fath​er who ever cared about me!​" I laun⁠ched myself at‍ him. Hands claw‍ed​. Going for his face. His th‌roat. Anything I could reach.

I literally felt the cracks that broke me. Vector reaches for my hand and tugs me back onto his lap. He cups my face and brushes my stray hair away. “Because being protective of someone is like an addiction. And after getting a taste of it, he won’t be able to resist being around you. Nothing will ever convince him that you’re safe, not until he does something to make sure you are.”

She could have fallen, hit her head, twisted an ankle. And then, a wave of icy dread, colder than any fear for herself, washed over her. Her child. She instinctively placed a hand over her still-flat stomach, a protective gesture she hadn't even realized she was making. This wasn't just about her anymore. This was about someone else, someone utterly vulnerable, dependent on her. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, but it also ignited a fierce, primal protectiveness she hadn't known she possessed.

Because this was no longer just an attack. This was personal. The moment I saw one of those motherfucking rogues break away from the battlefield and head toward the building Caleb was hidden inside, something inside me snapped completely. Not anger. Not rage. Something worse. Protectiveness. Possessiveness. The kind that destroys first and thinks later. I didn’t even process moving. One second I was tearing through two rogues trying to flank one of our injured warriors, and the next my wolf fully surged forward inside me so violently that the world narrowed into pure instinct.