Page 11

TEN

KIERAN

T he fever rolled through Kieran again in waves later that day, his body's accelerated healing demanding a price.

Through the haze, Kieran marveled at Maya's presence by his side—this stubborn, brilliant woman who'd patched together his torn flesh last night had stayed when any rational human would have fled.

"You should have run far away," he murmured, watching her copper hair gleam in the firelight. Her scent—wildflowers and vanilla—filled his senses, intensified by his healing state. "Why didn't you run, Maya?"

She adjusted the cool cloth on his forehead with a scientist's precision that couldn't disguise the tenderness in her touch. "And miss carefully documenting unprecedented cellular regeneration in an entirely new species of wolves? Not a chance."

Kieran's laugh turned into a grimace as pain lanced through his shoulder. "Always the researcher."

"Always," she agreed, but something flickered in those green eyes—something that had nothing to do with science whatsoever.

His wolf surged inside him, demanding he pull her down, claim her mouth with his, and mark her as his own.

It took every ounce of his discipline to resist. She wasn't pack.

She didn't understand their ways. And yet, his body recognized her more surely than any wolf shifter-born female he'd ever encountered.

"Sleep," she commanded, unaware of the battle raging inside him. "Your body needs rest to heal."

"Stay close," he growled softly, hating the vulnerability but unable to stop himself. His hand reached for hers again, needing the connection. "Please."

Darkness claimed him again, pulling him into dreams of fire and forests—and Maya, always Maya, running beside him through moonlit clearings, her human form shifting seamlessly to wolf, her copper fur gleaming.

In his dream, they hunted together, moving as one and sharing a bond no council could sever.

"Maya," he murmured in his sleep, reaching for the phantom of her.

He woke up disoriented, night having fallen outside the cabin once more.

Twenty-four hours since the attack. Twenty-four hours of Maya's steady presence, her touch alternating between clinical and something that felt dangerously like affection.

His body burned with fever, but her cool cloth soothed the fire in his blood.

"You said my name," she said quietly from beside him, her silhouette backlit by the dying embers in the fireplace. "In your sleep."

"I was dreaming." His voice rasped from his dry throat.

She handed him water without being asked, supporting his head as he drank. The simple gesture—so intimate and so natural—stirred something powerful in his chest.

"Of what?" She sat back on her heels, her notebook still clutched in one hand.

"You." No point in lying. His wolf was too close to the surface, his defenses eroded by pain and fever. "Running with me. As if you were pack."

Color rose in her cheeks, visible even in the dim light. "I don't run. Not unless something's chasing me."

"You're running now," he challenged, his eyes holding hers. "From what's happening between us."

She broke eye contact first. "Nothing's happening between us except unusual biochemical reactions to stress and trauma."

Kieran pushed himself up onto his elbows, ignoring the protest from his healing wounds. "Is that what your science tells you?"

"Yes." Her chin lifted defiantly, but her pulse jumped at her throat, betraying her.

"Your pulse says otherwise." He reached to brush his fingertips against the fluttering beat at her neck. "Your pupils dilate when I touch you. Your breath quickens. Your body leans toward mine without conscious thought."

Her eyes widened. "Heightened senses too?"

"Among other gifts." He let his eyes flare with the wolf's silver light, watching her breath catch.

"Simply fascinating," she whispered, leaning closer rather than away. "Do all your kind share these traits?"

Kieran gently grabbed her wrist, his patience fraying. "Maya."

"Yes?"

"Stop analyzing me for five seconds and answer my question from earlier. Why didn't you run away from here?"

The silence stretched between them, thick with possibility. Her scent changed subtly—fear giving way to something sweeter and headier. Desire.

"I couldn't," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible. "It felt... wrong. Like leaving part of myself behind."

His wolf howled in triumph. His mate recognized the bond, even if her human mind couldn't comprehend it yet.

"That's the first honest thing you've said since I woke up today."

"I'm always honest," she huffed. "Just not always... completely."

"Incomplete data leads to flawed conclusions, Dr. Collins." He grinned at the flash of irritation in her eyes. "For someone so devoted to scientific truth, you're working awfully hard to deny what's right in front of you."

Kieran's fingers remained wrapped around Maya's wrist, feeling her pulse flutter beneath his touch like a captured bird. The contact sent electricity crackling up his arm, his wolf pushing beneath his skin, demanding more.

"Fine. There's something between us," Maya finally admitted, her scientific resolve cracking. "Something I can't explain with any research methodology I've ever used."

He released her wrist only to trace his thumb along her jawline. "Not everything can be quantified, categorized, or documented in those journals of yours."

"That's not helpful," she said, but leaned into his touch. "I need to understand what this is. Why my body responds to you like?—"

"Like we're made from the same cosmic dust?" Kieran replied softly. "Like your cells recognize mine?"

Maya's breath hitched. "That's not scientifically sound."

"And yet, you didn't disagree." Kieran shifted and reached for her, ignoring the pull of his healing wounds. The pain was nothing compared to the need to be closer to her.

She laid beside him on the cabin floor, her body hesitantly aligning with his. "In wolf biology, there's no precedent for instant chemical bonding between different species."

"We're not different species. I'm both wolf and man." Kieran pulled her closer, his arm wrapping possessively around her waist. "And what's happening isn't just chemical."

"Then what would you call it?" Her green eyes challenged him, her scientific curiosity battling with something deeper and more primal.

He considered telling her everything—about mate bonds and about the biological imperative that had recognized her as his perfect counterpart from that first whiff of her scent. But something held him back.

"In my world, we have certain names for connections that transcend explanation," he said instead. "For bonds that form regardless of pack laws or logical reasoning."

"Like fairy tales?" A hint of skepticism colored her voice.

"Like ancient truths your science hasn't caught up with yet." He brushed her hair from her face. "You'll understand soon enough."

As moonlight filtered through the cabin's small window, which was now partially boarded up, Maya's body gradually relaxed against his.

The tension between them transformed, no longer just electric but somehow deeper and more fundamental.

Kieran felt his wounds knitting impossibly faster than normal—his shifter blood already worked miracles, but something about Maya's presence seemed to accelerate his healing.

"You're recovering remarkably fast," she whispered, her fingers ghosting over the nearly closed wound on his shoulder. "Statistically impossible for normal human physiology."

"Good thing I'm not entirely human." His arm tightened around her waist. "Does it frighten you?"

"No," she answered immediately. "It... fascinates me."

His wolf preened at her acceptance, at the way she pressed closer against his side despite knowing what he was.

The mate bond strengthened with each moment they spent together, weaving invisible threads between their souls.

Kieran had heard stories of such bonds from elders, but nothing had prepared him for the reality—the visceral need to claim, protect, and cherish.

As Maya fell asleep against his chest, Kieran remained alert, his senses scanning the cabin and surroundings for any threat. His fingers traced idle patterns on her arm, memorizing every freckle and every curve.

"I'll keep you safe," he murmured into her hair. "Always."

The possessiveness of his thoughts should have alarmed him.

He barely knew this woman, yet his wolf had already decided their shared fate.

The rational part of him—the part trained to be Alpha—recognized the complications ahead.

His father would never accept a human mate for his heir.

The High Council would see her as a threat to their secrecy and way of life.

Yet holding her against him felt like finding a piece of himself he'd never known was missing. She fit perfectly in his arms, as if designed specifically to complement his strength with her brilliant mind.

He could mark her now, his wolf urged. A single bite at the junction of her neck and shoulder would complete the bond and tie her to him irrevocably.

But Kieran reined in the instinct. She deserved to understand what she was agreeing to—deserved the freedom to choose him knowing all the consequences.

For now, he would savor this moment, when she'd chosen to stay rather than run, and to trust rather than fear. The rest would come in time.

Kieran woke up to the warm weight of Maya nestled against his chest, her copper hair spilling across his arm.

Morning light filtered through the hastily boarded window, casting golden patterns across her freckled skin.

His wolf purred with satisfaction at having her so close, her scent mingling with his own.

For a moment, he simply breathed her in—wildflowers and vanilla and something uniquely Maya that called to both man and beast.