Page 35 of Whisker me Away
Freya's magic flared in response to her emotional turmoil, and she felt corruption stirring at the edges of the cemetery like it was drawn to her distress. Even here, beside her grandmother's grave, the Thornweaver's influence crept closer.
"Maybe you're right," she admitted. "Maybe I am scared. But I'm also practical enough to recognize that the binding spell requires a mated pair, and fate already made that choice for me."
"Fate." Rowan's laugh was bitter. "How convenient that supernatural destiny aligns so perfectly with what your heart wants."
Beside her, Kieran had gone very still, his eyes tracking every word with predatory focus. She could feel his tiger prowling beneath his human facade, territorial instincts warring with his determination to let her make this choice freely.
"What my heart wants doesn't matter," Freya said, though the words tasted like lies. "What matters is saving our community from an ancient evil that's getting stronger every day."
"Then why does your magic respond to him like that?" Rowan gestured toward Kieran with painful accuracy. "Why does your whole body language change when he's near? Why do you look at him like he's the answer to questions you didn't know you were asking?"
The observations were too precise, too knowing. Freya felt heat rise in her cheeks as she realized how transparent she'd been. How obvious her feelings had become despite all her efforts to hide them.
"Because he is," she whispered, the admission scraping her throat raw. "He's my mate, Rowan. Not by choice, not because it's convenient, but because something deeper recognizes him as the other half of my soul."
Rowan absorbed her words with the grace she'd always admired, his expression cycling through pain and understanding.
"I see." He stepped back from her grandmother's grave, his movements careful and controlled. "Then I suppose there's nothing left to say."
"There is." Freya moved toward him, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage of their friendship. "You're important to me, Rowan. What we had, what we shared, it meant something. It still means something."
"Just not enough." His smile was sad but genuine. "I hope you'll be happy, Freya. Both of you. And I hope whatever you're walking into is worth the pain you're causing."
He left without another word, walking through the cemetery with dignity intact despite the heartbreak radiating from every line of his body. Freya watched him disappear between the headstones and felt pieces of her heart break for the man who'd loved her with patience and devotion she couldn't return.
"That was brave," Kieran said quietly.
"That was cruel." She turned away from her grandmother's grave, unable to face the carved roses that had started this whole crisis. "He deserved better than that."
"He deserved honesty. Which is what you gave him." Kieran fell into step beside her as they headed back toward town. "It would have been crueler to let him hope."
"Would it?" Freya's voice came out brittle. "Because right now, I feel like the worst kind of person. The kind who breaks good hearts because she can't resist something dangerous."
"Is that what you think this is? You giving in to temptation?"
The question made her stop walking. They stood at the cemetery gates, autumn evening settling around them, and Freya realized she didn't have an answer. Was the mate bond just supernatural attraction? A cosmic trick that made her think she needed someone she barely understood? Was it even a bond at all or her hormones playing tricks on her?
"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know what this is or what it means or whether I'm making the biggest mistake of my life."
"Then let me show you." Kieran moved closer. "Let me prove that this is more than just magical convenience or dangerous attraction."
"How?"
"Trust me. Just for tonight, stop fighting what you feel and trust me."
They walked back through Hollow Oak in charged silence, the weight of her choice settling over them like electricity before a storm. Streetlights cast pools of golden warmth across empty sidewalks, and the scent of wood smoke drifted from cozy homes where families gathered for dinner. Normal life, continuing around them while her world transformed completely.
"Where are we going?" she asked as Kieran led her off the main street toward the lake.
"Somewhere we can talk without the whole town watching."
Moonmirror Lake stretched before them like polished glass, reflecting the first stars appearing in the darkening sky. The crescent-shaped water that gave their town its character looked peaceful in the evening light, unmarked by the corruption that plagued the rest of Hollow Oak.
"Freya." Kieran caught her hand. "Look at me."
She turned to face him and felt her breath catch. The careful control he always wore had slipped, revealing raw hunger and possession and something deeper that made her magic sing with recognition. This was her mate looking at her, not the composed man who handled everyone else's crises with professional detachment.
"Tell me you feel it too," he said, his voice rough with need. "Tell me this isn't just supernatural obligation or convenient timing. Because if that's all this is..."
