Page 33

The forest blurred around him in green streaks as Hagan ran, feet pounding against the soft earth, the rhythm of breath and movement syncing to silence the thoughts in his head.

The path curved sharply around a moss-covered boulder and dipped into a sun-dappled clearing—and then, without warning, she was there.

Lia.

He jerked to a stop, legs bracing, muscles screaming as he skidded just short of colliding into her. Leaves scattered around them.

"What the hell, Lia!" he snapped as he shifted, eyes blazing. "I could've knocked you over. I could have hurt you!"

"You didn't," she muttered, trying to steady her breath. Nudity was a way of life among the wolves, but something about the way Lia looked at him made him feel...uncomfortable and guilty. There were clothing repositories in the woods for this kind of thing.

Her brows were furrowed, arms crossed over her chest. "Haven't seen you in days."

"Training's been... intense," said Hagan as he pulled on a pair of shorts.

That was the truth—but not all of it .

He didn't tell her that the bond had become unbearable lately.

That it was like a sapling had taken root in his chest and was growing towards the sun.

Toward Seren. That sometimes he ended up near her without memory of choosing that path—his feet taking him where his heart wouldn't admit he wanted to go.

He didn't say how he'd watched Seren from the tree line as she worked in the herb garden, fingers buried in soil, sun threading through her hair.

How he'd had to fight to stop himself from offering to help plant seedlings just to be near her, just to share a few stolen glances. Maybe touch her hand as if by accident.

He didn't say how he'd stood too long at the edge of the sparring fields, gaze pinned to the movement of her body, mesmerized by every shift and slide, every breath.

How he couldn't help but be obsessed with how her body was changing.

How he'd once missed a strike from Veyr because he was too busy watching her.

He didn't tell Lia any of it.But Lia was no fool.

She sat down on a fallen tree trunk, hair glowing like spun gold in the fading light. Her grey eyes were fixed on the horizon, far away. Her voice was soft. "Sit with me."

He did. Their eyes meet in a look of familiarity and understanding, piercing blue on cloudy grey.

She leaned in, slid her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his .

They had done this before—more times than he could count.

Brief kisses, the kind that lingered just a little too long.

When they started, it had excited him to no end.

He had dreamt of going further with her.

Lia, his beloved. Sometimes her lips on his, sometimes her hand pressed over his shirt, cupping his chest. Once, maybe twice, her fingers had brushed beneath the fabric to touch the bare skin of his chest or linger over his breastbone. Always bold. Always in control.

But it had never gone further than that. Not past a kiss on the lips, or a hand curled lightly over the shape of his body.

Her kiss deepened now, tongue seeking, her body pressed closer than usual, curving into him like a lure. But all he felt was a strange wrongness—like he was standing in the wrong skin.

He didn't stop it right away. He didn't want to hurt Lia.

Some part of him still clung to the comfort of before. Before everything changed. Before Seren.

But when her hands started to wander, sliding down his ribs with slow purpose to his abdomen, he caught them—gently, but without hesitation.

"Lia..." His voice was low, a warning and apology at once .

She drew back, breath catching.

"I can't do this with you."

Her breath hitched. "Why?"

"I've made up my mind." He hesitated, then met her gaze. "I have feelings for Seren. Real ones. Stronger than what I feel for you."

Her jaw tightened, but she didn't cry. Lia never cried. Still, he saw it in the slight tremble of her lower lip. The heartbreak in her shining eyes.

"I don't want to be left behind," she whispered. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," he said. "You'll always be my friend."

She gave him a sad smile. "That's not the same."

"No. It's not. But I have to be fair to you. And leading you on is not being fair. "

He leaned forward, and they shared a final kiss—soft, heavy with memories, and finality. When they parted, it was with a silence that ached .

He stood and turned away, heart thudding differently now. The bond tugged again—toward Seren, always toward her. It pulsed like the heartbeat in his chest.

He didn't get far before he heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind him.

Dain.

He fell into step beside Hagan without a word.

They walked quietly through the trees until Dain finally asked, "You sure?"

Hagan stared ahead; throat tight. "I need to do what is right."

There was a pause.

Then Dain nodded once. "Tribe comes first."

What Hagan didn't say was that it wasn't duty pulling him anymore. It was something deeper, unstoppable. Something he no longer had the will—or desire—to fight.