Page 47

Her scent, so unique that it makes my head spin.

But it’s more than that.

It’s her strength, not her physical strength, but her emotional resilience—the strength to keep going even after being wounded by her chosen mate and her kin.

It’s her sharp tongue and sharper mind, showing how she refuses to be cowed even when outnumbered and overpowered.

It’s the knowledge that she is my equal.

My counterpart.

I drop to all fours, my preferred form for speed and stealth, and make a wide circuit of the cabin’s perimeter. Checking for threats is a practical way to channel my need to do something, anything, for her. The forest is quiet today, respectful of my patrol. Even the birds seem to recognize my agitation, keeping their distance.

The others have retreated to their domains for now. I scent them in the distance—water-dweller to the lake, forest guardian to his grove. They, too, are struggling with this new directive to give her space.

A sound from the cabin draws my attention—a sob, quickly muffled. My ears flatten against my skull. Her pain is a physical thing to me, a scent and sound that drives my protective instincts into overdrive.

I want to howl my frustration.

I pace faster, wearing a trail into the forest floor. ‘Honor her wishes. Give her space. Protect from a distance.’ The mantras do little to soothe the restless energy coursing through me.

I’ve only known this specific torment once before with the water-dweller, wanting desperately to approach but forcing myself to maintain distance.

Something I had to learn the hard way.

I used to be accustomed to taking what I wanted, marking my territory, and defending it with fang and claw.

Restraint wasn’t a skill I knew well, but one that I now appreciate, as painful as this moment is.

As the day wears on, I catch glimpses of her through the windows—moving from room to room, reading, writing in her journal, painting, staring pensively at the lake.

I promised her space, and I will honor it even as it chafes against every instinct. But protection doesn’t require presence.

There are other ways to show care without intrusion.

I can give her something—not a claim, not a demand, but an offering that speaks of protection without possession.

I slip deeper into the forest, toward the northwestern ridge where the wild raspberries grow. It’s early in the season, but I know a patch that gets the best morning sun, where the berries ripen weeks before the others. I collect them carefully in a large leaf, mindful not to crush them with my claws.

Next, I visit the meadow where summer wildflowers bloom, carefully selecting the brightest blooms. This is not a romantic gesture—Oren has that territory well claimed with his living flowers—but something practical. Certain blooms keep insects at bay, and others can soothe sunburned skin when crushed and applied as a paste. These are useful gifts, not just pretty ones.

Finally, I shed a piece of my fur, soft and strong, something I’ve worn through the harshest seasons. I don’t just give her fur—I give her a piece of myself, wrapped in the forest’s protection, and enveloped in my scent. I leave it at her doorstep, hoping she understands the weight of what I’ve given—Freely, with no expectation of return.

I retreat to the treeline and wait, patient now that I have taken action. When the cabin door finally opens and she emerges, her eyes widening at the sight of my offerings, something shifts in me.

The possessive need to claim doesn’t vanish, but it transforms into something more nuanced.

The desire to earn rather than take.

To be chosen rather than to claim.

She looks toward the forest, scanning the shadows where I hide. Our eyes meet across the distance momentarily—her green gaze finding my amber one unerringly.

“Thank you,” she calls softly, knowing I can hear her from this distance, and I can’t help but wag my tail like a lovesick idiot.

She takes everything inside. Smart, observant human. My human—no, not mine. Not yet. Maybe never. For the first time, I find that I could accept that possibility without rage.

I will protect her regardless of her choice.