I’ve tried. I’ve fucking tried to make it normal, to remember my duy as a Crown Prince and stop fully avoiding her.
It's been three weeks. Three weeks of carefully orchestrated distance, of rigid formality, of addressing her as "Lady Lilith" even when we were alone.
Three weeks of cutting short conversations that threatened to become personal, of maintaining physical space during pack gatherings, of lying awake at night remembering the taste of her lips.
My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, whining in protest every time I forced distance between us. The animal recognized what my human mind fought—that she was ours, that every moment of separation was agony.
But I was here to evaluate a political alliance, not to fall in love with a woman who would make me vulnerable, weak.
Yes, keep reminding that to yourself, asshole.
The sacred river ran silver under the moonlight, its waters reflecting the stars like scattered diamonds. I'd found this place by accident during my first week here, a secluded bend where ancient willows draped their branches into the current.
Now I came here almost nightly, working out my frustrations with savage sword work against imaginary opponents.
My blade cut through the air with vicious precision, each stroke burning off the restless energy that had plagued me since our kiss in her healing chamber.
Sweat ran down my bare chest despite the cool night air, my muscles coiled with tension that no amount of physical exertion could relieve.
"Why?" The single word stopped me mid-swing.
I spun, sword still in hand, my breathing harsh as I faced her.
Lilith stood at the edge of the clearing like a vision from a dream. Her simple white dress flowed around her like water, catching the moonlight and making her seem to glow from within.
Her silver hair hung loose past her shoulders, gleaming pale as starlight.
She looked impossibly small against the massive willows, delicate as spun glass, but her storm-colored eyes burned with hurt and confusion.
"Lady Lilith." My voice came out rough, strained. "You shouldn't be here that late."
"Why?" she repeated, stepping closer. "Why are you doing this to us?"
I lowered my sword but didn't sheathe it, using the weapon as a barrier between us. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do." Her voice carried a thread of magic that made the air shimmer. "Weeks of pretending that kiss never happened. Weeks of avoidance, then formality and distance and treating me like a stranger."
"We are strangers."
"Are we?" She moved closer, and I caught her scent—rain and lightning and something uniquely her that made my wolf howl with need. "Then why does your wolf call to mine? Why do I feel your restlessness through our bond? Why do I dream about your touch every night?"
I stepped back, but she followed, her small form advancing with quiet determination.
"You're tired of my coldness," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I understand. But it just the person I am, this is for the best—"
"For the best?" Her laugh was broken, bitter. "Kieran, I can barely eat, barely sleep. Every moment we're apart feels like torture. How is that for the best?"
"Because caring for you makes me weak!" The words exploded from me with enough force to send ripples across the river. "Because my enemies could use you against me! Because I don't know how to be gentle with something as precious as you!"
"Precious?" She stepped closer, so close I could see the gold flecks in her storm-colored eyes. "You think I'm some fragile porcelain doll who'll break at your touch?"
"You're untouched. Pure. Sacred." My hands shook as I looked at her perfect form in the moonlight. "Every woman I've been with before was experienced, confident, able to match my... intensity. But you—"
"I'm what?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Too innocent for someone like you? Breakable little virgin?"
"Yes." The admission tore from my throat. "I'm blood and violence and rough edges. You're light and healing and everything good in this world. I would corrupt you, damage you—"
"You're wrong." Her hands came up to rest on my chest, so small against my bulk. "I know what you're thinking. You think I'm too fragile, too innocent for someone like you. But you're wrong, Kieran. I may be untouched, but I'm not made of glass."
Her touch burned through my skin like fire.
"My wolf has chosen you," she continued, her voice growing stronger. "And she's not gentle or fragile—she's fierce and demanding and she wants her mate."
Before I could respond, she rose on her tiptoes and crashed her lips against mine with surprising force.
The kiss was fierce, demanding, completely contradicting her gentle reputation. Her small hands cupped my neck pulling me closer to her as she pressed her body against my chest, every soft curve molding to my hard muscles.
But I stood rigid, my hands clenched at my sides, fighting not to respond.
My jaw was tight with the effort of maintaining control, even as her passionate assault on my senses made me tremble.
Lilith didn't relent. She nipped at my lower lip, her tongue darting out to taste me as she kissed me with growing desperation.
Her inexperience was evident, but so was her fierce determination to prove herself.
When she pulled back, her eyes blazed with desire and defiance. "Stop treating me like I'll break," she whispered against my lips. "I won't."
She kissed me again, harder this time, her hands roaming over my chest and shoulders with bold exploration.
I could feel my composure cracking, my wolf clawing at my control as she trailed hot kisses down my neck, making me instantly hard. "Lilith, stop—"
"No." Her teeth grazed my skin, making me shudder. "I'm tired of being treated like a child. I'm tired of you fighting what we both want."
For long moments I endured her sensual torture, my breathing becoming ragged as she grew bolder.
Her small hands mapped the scars on my chest, her lips following the path of her fingers. Every touch was electric, every kiss a brand against my skin.
Then she did something that shattered my last vestige of control.
Her small hand cupped my length through my trousers, and she whispered my name like a prayer. “Please, Kieran…”
With a growl that was more wolf than man, I finally surrendered.
My hands tangled in her silver hair as I spun her around, pressing her back against the large boulder by the river's edge.
Now it was my turn to claim her mouth, my kiss hungry and demanding as weeks of suppressed desire poured out of me.
"You want to see the real me?" I growled against her lips, my voice barely human. "You want to know what you're asking for?"
Her eyes blazed with triumph and need. "Yes."
"Then hold on," I whispered, my hands spanning her tiny waist. "Because I'm about to show you exactly what it means to be claimed by a wolf."
The moonlight painted her skin silver as I lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist. She felt weightless in my arms, like capturing starlight, but the magic that radiated from her was anything but fragile.
"Show me," she breathed, her small hands fisting in my hair. "Show me everything."
And finally, after three weeks of fighting the inevitable, I stopped running from the one thing that could either save me or destroy me completely.
Her.