Chapter 18 Eighteen
Orion did not sleep for hours. I could feel it in the tension of his muscles, the way his breath shifted every time mine steadied. I lay curled beside him with his arm under my neck and my hand held tightly against his chest. Every so often his fingers brushed my wrist as if checking to see if I was truly there. Each touch carried a mixture of longing and fear.
The room was dark except for a soft glow from the dying lantern near the wall. I studied his silhouette, the curve of his jaw, the lines of exhaustion around his eyes. He looked older than before. Love aged him. Pain matured him. And yet even now he was gentle with me as if afraid any sudden movement might shatter my already fragile heart.
“Zara,” he whispered after a long silence.
“Yes.”
“Are you awake.”
“Yes.”
He shifted slightly so he could see my face better. His gaze flickered with sadness. “I did not want tonight to feel like desperation.”
“It does not,” I whispered.
“You are lying.”
“No.” I touched his cheek gently. “It feels like love. And fear. And everything in between.”
He exhaled slowly, brushing my hair back. “I do not want to hold you like this if it means you wake every second thinking of him.”
“That is not what is happening,” I said softly.
He hesitated. “Then what is.”
I swallowed hard. “I am thinking of you. And how much I do not want to lose you.”
He leaned closer, forehead brushing mine. “You will not lose me. Not unless you push me away.”
My voice trembled. “I am not pushing you away.”
“Good,” he whispered. “Because I need you to remember that love existed here long before the bond.”
“I know,” I breathed.
He held my gaze for a long moment. I saw everything in his eyes. Loyalty. Pain. Hope. Desire. And something else that frightened me more than anything.
Acceptance.
“Zara,” he murmured, “I am trying to be brave. But I do not know how to share someone I love.”
My heart squeezed painfully. “I am not choosing him over you.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But a bond is not something you can ignore. I feel it every time you react to him. I feel it when your chest aches. I feel it when your breath quickens because he is near.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I wish it was not like this.”
“So do I,” he said.
We stayed quiet for a while, heads touching, breaths mixing. I listened to his heartbeat, strong but unsteady. The rhythm soothed me in ways I had always known. Orion was the person who had held my dreams long before Ezra walked into my life. But the mate bond had rewritten the rules without mercy.
I did not know how to live between two truths.
Orion kissed my forehead gently. “Sleep, Zara. I will be here.”
I finally drifted off with my hand tangled in his.
But the bond did not sleep.
Somewhere in the distance, it pulsed awake.
Ezra.
I felt him like a warm breeze brushing my senses. Not forceful. Not demanding. Just present. His heartbeat echoed faintly inside my chest. A quiet reminder.
My body stirred.
Orion woke instantly. “What is it.”
“Ezra,” I whispered.
Orion’s jaw tightened. “Is he close.”
“No,” I said softly. “Just near enough for the bond to nudge.”
He closed his eyes in pain. “I hate that he can reach you even while you sleep.”
“It is not something he is doing,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said. “That is what makes it worse.”
He sat up slowly and rubbed his face. A heavy silence settled between us. I reached for him again, and he took my hand but his grip felt different this time. Not rejecting. Not distancing. Just tired.
“We should eat,” he said finally.
I nodded and followed him downstairs. Lola joined us with two bowls of porridge and a worried look on her face. She studied Orion for a moment before turning to me.
“Did you sleep at all,” she asked.
“A little.”
“Did he sleep,” she asked, nodding toward Orion.
“No,” I whispered.
Orion shook his head. “I am fine.”
“You are not,” Lola said bluntly. “Both of you look like you fought a bear and lost.”
I managed a weak smile. “It feels like we have.”
We ate in silence. The packhouse was quiet. People passed by the table with hushed steps and careful glances. Everyone knew what was happening. Everyone felt the tension in the air like a winter storm building overhead.
Halfway through breakfast, I froze.
The bond surged.
Warm.
Strong.
Close.
Ezra.
My spoon clattered into the bowl. Orion stiffened beside me. Lola looked up sharply.
“He is here,” I whispered.
Orion stood instantly, pushing his chair back. “Stay here. I will handle him.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Do not confront him. Not like this.”
He looked down at me with a mix of frustration and hurt. “I am not letting him walk in here and pull you away.”
“He is not pulling me,” I said. “He is not even inside. He is near the gates.”
Orion’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but his eyes stayed sharp. “I am still going.”
Lola stood. “Orion. Do not make this worse.”
He paused and endured her stare for a long moment.
Then he sighed. “Fine. Zara. Come with me.”
I nodded, heart pounding as I followed him outside. We walked across the yard until the pack gates came into view. Ezra stood on the other side of the gate, waiting quietly. He wore dark clothes lined with fur, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.
The moment my eyes met his, the bond pulsed hard. Warm. Powerful. Like something inside me recognized him instantly.
Ezra’s jaw tightened. “You did not sleep,” he said.
I swallowed. “Neither did you.”
“Zara,” Orion muttered, stepping between us.
Ezra ignored him gently and focused on me. “I felt your distress.”
“I was not in distress,” I whispered.
“Then why did the bond wake me,” he asked softly.
Before I could answer, Orion stepped forward. “Do not talk to her as if you can feel everything she is.”
Ezra looked at him calmly. “I do not feel everything. Only what the bond insists on showing me.”
Orion exhaled sharply. “Then stop answering it.”
Ezra shook his head. “That is not how bonds work.”
Orion’s voice lowered. “Then let her breathe. Let her think. Let her rest without feeling you every moment.”
Ezra looked at me. “Do you want that.”
My breath stuttered. My mind screamed yes. But my chest tightened painfully at the thought of him leaving. I did not understand it. I hated it. I feared it.
Ezra watched me with soft eyes. “Tell me the truth, Zara.”
Orion whispered, “Please say yes.”
I shook my head slowly. “I do not know.”
Orion stared at me, devastated.
Ezra nodded. “That is enough.”
He stepped closer to the gate. The air shifted as he moved. Even Orion felt it.
Ezra’s voice softened. “I am not here to take anything from you. I came only to see if she is safe.”
Orion’s voice cracked. “She is safe with me.”
Ezra nodded. “Then I trust you.”
Something in Orion’s expression broke at those words.
Ezra continued, “But the bond reacted strongly last night. I wanted to understand why.”
I felt heat climb my neck. “I was crying.”
Ezra’s eyes filled with worry. “Because of me.”
“Because of everything,” I said. “Because I cannot choose. Because you both want a piece of me. Because fate is cruel. Because my heart is breaking.”
Ezra’s voice lowered. “Zara.”
“I do not know how to stop hurting everyone,” I whispered.
Ezra stepped closer to the gate, his voice gentle. “You are not hurting me. I am hurting for you.”
Orion looked away, shoulders tense.
Ezra’s eyes remained on me. “Do you want space.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes. And no.”
He nodded slowly. “Then I will give you what I can.”
He paused, gaze softening. “I will remain close enough for the bond to stay calm. But I will not approach unless you call for me.”
Orion closed his eyes with relief.
I felt something ache inside me with longing at the thought of Ezra stepping away, but I nodded. “Thank you.”
Ezra watched me a moment longer, as if memorizing my face. Then he whispered, “Zara. Do not carry guilt that is not yours.”
He stepped back from the gate.
My chest tightened painfully as he moved away, but the bond remained steady, warm, soft.
Orion let out a breath he had been holding.
Lola whispered from behind us, “That was not easy for him. Or for you.”
I watched Ezra disappear into the forest until I could no longer see him.
Orion stepped beside me slowly. “Zara. Are you alright.”
I shook my head. “No.”
He pulled me close and held me tightly. “We will figure this out.”
I pressed my forehead against his chest and whispered, “Orion. What if time does not fix this.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Then we will fix it.”
But even as he held me, I felt the bond pulsing gently behind my ribs like a second heartbeat whispering a future I did not yet understand.
And for the first time, the truth settled heavy inside me.
Love could be chosen.
Fate could not.