Page 19 of Claimed By the Wolf
His stare bores into me, and for a minute, I wonder if he wants me to withdraw my consent. There’s an unmistakable pleading in his eyes, but it’s fleeting.
“Right?” he demands again, harsher now.
I drop my chin to look away. “Yes.”
“I’ll find a way to break this. It’ll get easier,” he promises. “It’s only hard right now because it’s new. Over time, we’ll both be able to deal with it.”
“Will it get easier?” I ask tersely, throwing my head back to glare at him. “Because I hear I’m going to a party this weekend. And I might be staying with Emeric.”
He pales in the moonlight. “Brax told you.”
“Was it a secret?”
“No. And I don’t know if you’ll stay. All I know is there’s a gathering and everyone will be there, including you and me, together, where everyone will see us.”
His meaning goes unspoken, and my mouth parts in alarm.
“Oh no…” I wheeze.
“Yes. We have to find a way to end this, or everyone will know that we are mates.”
Our bond will be unmistakable if we’re next to one another, and there’s no way to avoid having us both at Emeric’s gathering.
“We’ll find a way to break it,” I echo, a sudden burst of determination flowing through me.
The haze of fantasy wears thin. The security of our pack depends on this alliance, and I can’t continue to imagine a future with Nox.
“I’ll contact you,” he tells me, backing up as I nod curtly.
“You have to stay strong, Brynn.”
“I will,” I choke, but they’re just words. I don’t know if I am strong enough for this torture.
Without warning, he turns, shifting back into his dark gray wolf body, and bounds into the darkness, leaving me alone to stare after him, fighting off my heartbreak.
CHAPTER 5
NOX
It’s hell. The days are long, and the nights are worse.
Sleep eludes me when all I can think about is how close but far away Brynn is to me. The fact is, she’ll never be within reach, and I have to accept that. Whatever spiel I’d given her, about being strong, I can’t take my own advice.
I’m crumbling inside without her. I can’t stay away from Brynn, as much as I know I have to. Her texts aren’t helping me, as much as I want to dismiss them.
We meet for a second time in the middle of the week by the creek, her sweet apple smell intoxicating me as I try to keep a healthy distance. Even so, she fills me with need, and I remind myself how bad this is, seeing her like this in secret. She thinks I don’t notice the way she inches closer to me, but every gesture she makes is amplified by every subtle look.
I’m distinctly aware of everything she does.
It’s absolute hell.
“There might be a way to break the bond, but not without help,” I finally offer, albeit reluctantly.
She stares at me with a look I understand too well. There’s hope and dismay combined.
“I’ve never heard of anyone breaking a bond before,” she says warily.
Well, who the hell would want to? There’s a reason it’s taken me so long to learn anything about how to do it.
