Chapter 23 Twenty Three
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Mira POV
The morning came slower than expected, pressing against my senses with a heaviness I could not shake. The rebel camp was quieter than usual. No clashing of steel. No hurried footsteps. Only scattered murmurs and the faint rustle of preparations being made. War loomed close now. Every face reflected the same truth. We were stepping into the storm with one hope and one chance. There would be no turning back.
I stepped out of my tent. The cool air brushed across my skin, calming my racing thoughts. My wolf was restless. She paced inside me, alert and uneasy, as if she could scent something I could not yet see. I tightened my cloak and scanned the camp. Nothing looked out of place. Yet something pulsed beneath the surface.
Jason was not outside.
He always rose early. Always paced before sunrise. Always checked the perimeter with the rebels who still distrusted him. His absence felt wrong. It unsettled me in a way I did not want to admit.
Riven approached before I could take another step. His posture was rigid, his expression tight.
“You should see this,” he said.
My stomach tightened. “What happened?”
He did not answer immediately. Instead, he led me across the camp to the far clearing where the training grounds were set up. When we reached the steps leading down to the small riverbank, I saw movement. Jason stood at the water’s edge, shirt discarded, the early sunlight reflecting across his bare shoulders. His body was tense, every muscle pulled taut. His wolf energy radiated around him in a raw, unfocused wave.
He was not training.
He was losing control.
Riven kept his voice low. “He has been like that for almost an hour. He refuses to speak to anyone.”
Jason’s fist clenched at his side. The river rippled in response, as if sensing his turmoil.
“I will handle it,” I said.
Riven hesitated. “If he shifts unexpectedly, he may attack.”
“He will not attack me,” I said.
Riven exhaled slowly and stepped back.
I approached Jason quietly. He did not turn, but his back muscles tightened at the sound of my footsteps.
“You are shaking the river,” I said.
His voice was rough. “I know.”
“You are losing control.”
“I know that too.”
I moved closer, keeping my tone steady. “Tell me why.”
Jason’s breathing was uneven, heavy. “I am trying not to break.”
The honesty in his voice hit deeper than I expected.
“What is pushing you to this?” I asked.
He finally turned toward me.
His eyes were not their usual stormy gray. They were darker. Wilder. His wolf pressed against them, fighting for dominance.
“Her spell is spreading,” he said quietly. “The Queen planted something in me before we escaped the temple. I feel it crawling under my skin. It reacts every time I think about you.”
I stilled. “What do you mean reacts?”
He swallowed hard. “When I get close to you, when I look at you too long, when I remember the kiss, when I remember the way you said you would not let her kill me. My wolf goes wild. It claws at me.”
My heartbeat stumbled.
He looked down at his shaking hands. “I do not want to hurt you, Mira. I do not want to lose myself at the worst possible time.”
I approached him slowly. My wolf leaned forward, drawn to his chaotic energy. She wanted to steady him. She wanted him close. She wanted him marked.
Dangerous instincts for a dangerous moment.
“You are not losing yourself,” I said. “You are resisting something someone else put in you.”
Jason shook his head. “You do not understand. If she bound my wolf to yours through that ritual, even partially, it is not something I can ignore. It is instinct. It is desire. It is need.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
He took one step back, but I followed.
“Stop moving away,” I said.
“You make it worse,” he whispered.
“You think distance helps this?” I asked.
He lifted his gaze to mine. “Yes. Because when you are close, I forget everything except you.”
My heart pounded. My wolf howled inside me, not in anger, but in recognition.
Jason exhaled sharply. “I am not asking you to return the feelings. I only need control. I need something to anchor the wolf before he breaks through.”
I stepped closer until we were almost touching. His breath faltered.
“Then let me anchor him,” I said.
He froze. “Mira.”
I reached out slowly and placed my hand against his chest. His heart slammed against my palm. His wolf surged instantly, wild and possessive, but Jason dragged in a sharp breath and held the shift back.
“You are not afraid of me,” he said.
“No,” I replied.
“You should be.”
“I am not.”
His hand rose hesitantly toward me before he forced it down again. “Do not do this unless you mean it. I am barely holding on.”
I kept my hand on his chest. “Jason. Look at me.”
He did.
I felt the heat of the bond ripple through the air between us, rough and unrefined, but present. Real. His pupils dilated, his breath hitched, and his wolf energy flared.
“You asked me yesterday to let you fight for me,” I said. “I am telling you now that you do not fight alone.”
A shudder went through him.
“Mira,” he whispered again.
He reached up slowly, fingers brushing my jaw. The touch was gentle but desperate, as if he expected me to pull away. I did not.
His voice was quiet. “I am losing control.”
“Then take it,” I said. “Take what you need to stay grounded.”
His breath left him in a sharp exhale. He leaned in, forehead resting against mine.
“You do not know what you are offering,” he said.
“I do,” I whispered.
He hesitated only a moment.
Then he kissed me.
This kiss was nothing like the last. It was raw. Intense. Consuming. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His other hand gripped my waist, desperate for stability and proximity.
My wolf responded instantly, pressing forward, eager and wild. My fingers curled into his hair. Our bodies collided with enough force to make the ground tremble. He groaned softly into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me.
He kissed me like he needed the connection to breathe.
I kissed him back without hesitation.
His wolf surged under his skin, brushing against mine, pushing, seeking, wanting. My shadows reacted, swirling around us in spirals, pulling us deeper into the moment.
When we finally broke apart, our breaths were harsh and uneven.
Jason pressed his forehead against mine. “You ground me. You calm the wolf.”
I inhaled shakily. “Then stay close.”
He closed his eyes. “Tell me when to move. Tell me when to step away. I will do whatever you ask.”
My hand slid down his arm, fingers tracing the lines of his scars. “Right now, I need you here.”
Jason’s breathing hitched again, this time with relief and something softer.
“I will stay,” he whispered.
We stood there for a long moment, bodies touching, breathing each other in, letting the forest fall away.
Eventually, he spoke again.
“They are waiting for us,” he said softly.
“I know.”
He pulled back slightly, though his hand lingered near mine.
“Tonight we face your mother,” I said. “Tonight we end her hold on you.”
Jason nodded. “And on you.”
I took his hand.
He let me.
“Together,” I said.
“Yes,” he replied. “Always.”
And for the first time, the bond did not feel like a chain.
It felt like strength.
It felt like choice.
It felt like something that might destroy us or save us completely.