Page 12 of When Two Worlds Collide (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #1)

“A wild clan with a legitimate claim to the land, according to your research.” Kade sighs. “The timing couldn’t be worse. We have reports of Mountain Bear clan attacks in the East. Over thirty settlers are dead.”

I feel sick. “Thirty?”

“They’re moving west. If they join forces with the Shadow Wolves?— ”

“They won’t,” I interrupt. “Zane doesn’t trust Ridge Stormcrow. He says the bears have always been aggressive, even toward other wild clans.”

Kade raises an eyebrow. “You seem quite familiar with his thinking.”

I feel heat rise to my face. “We’ve had many discussions during negotiations.”

“Right.” My brother pushes away from the desk. “The council reconvenes in an hour. I need you focused, Ember. If word gets out about this mate bond?—”

“It won’t,” I insist. “We’re both committed to keeping it private.”

Kade gives me a skeptical look. “Mate bonds don’t stay private. Nature designed them to be public—to show other potential suitors that you’re claimed.”

“I’m not claimed,” I snap, feeling my panther stir with indignation. “And neither is he.”

“Tell that to your biology.” Kade moves to the door. “I’m not judging you, Ember. Gods know we can’t choose who the universe links us to. But be careful. Factions exist in Haven’s Heart who would use this against you—against both of you.”

After he leaves, I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. This morning’s council session was difficult enough. How will I survive an entire afternoon with Zane in the same room when I want to either flee from him or...

No. I refuse to complete that thought.

I spend the remaining time reviewing my notes, forcing myself into professional mode. By the time I return to the council chamber, I’ve reconstructed my diplomatic facade.

Then I step inside and see Zane by the window, his silhouette outlined against the afternoon light. We look at each other, and for a moment, nothing else exists .

“Ambassador?” Elena’s voice breaks the trance. “Are you ready to continue?”

I pull my attention away. “Yes. Let’s discuss the implementation timeline.”

The afternoon session seems endless. We cover patrol schedules, resource sharing protocols, and dispute resolution mechanisms. I present each point methodically, answer questions precisely, while constantly aware of Zane’s presence.

He speaks only when directly addressed, his responses brief but surprisingly diplomatic.

By the session’s end, we’ve made real progress. The council agrees to continue discussions tomorrow, with a preliminary vote scheduled for the following day.

“An excellent start,” Elena tells me as members file out. “Though I sense some resistance from the settlement representatives.”

“They’re worried about security,” I acknowledge. “Tomorrow I’ll present the joint patrol proposal in more detail.”

She nods. “Alpha Blackthorn is not what I expected. More... controlled.”

“He understands what’s at stake,” I reply, hoping my voice sounds normal.

Elena offers a faint smile. “Don’t stay too late. You look exhausted.”

After she leaves, I begin gathering my notes. The chamber gradually empties until only Zane and I remain. We sit in silence, the unspoken tension almost palpable between us.

“Your council is more reasonable than I anticipated,” he finally says.

“They respond to evidence and logic.” I keep my attention on my papers. “Thank you for your restraint today. ”

“I can be civilized when necessary.”

I glance up. “I never said you couldn’t.”

For a moment, his expression softens. Then the door opens as Marcus strides in with three other Shadow Wolf warriors.

“The day is ending,” he announces. “We should return to our territory before dark.”

Zane nods without breaking eye contact with me. “Tomorrow, Ambassador.”

“Tomorrow, Alpha.”

I watch them leave, noting how Marcus glances back suspiciously before the door closes. Once they’re gone, I slump into a chair, overwhelmed by exhaustion. I’ve survived one day. How many more can I endure with this burning awareness between us?

The journey back to my quarters passes in a blur. I should eat, but I have no appetite. I should sleep, but I know rest will elude me. Instead, I pace my small apartment, trying to outrun my thoughts.

Mate bond. With Zane Blackthorn. The universe must have a cruel sense of humor.

A knock at my door startles me. Who would visit at nearly midnight?

I open the door to find Councilor Thorne, his expression grave.

“I apologize for the late hour, Ambassador, but we’ve received troubling news. A group of radical settlers is planning an attack on the Shadow Wolf camp tonight.”

I feel a sudden chill of fear. “How do you know this?”

“One of them came forward—got cold feet about the plan. They’re moving now, armed with silver weapons.”

“We have to warn them.” I grab my cloak immediately. “How many attackers? ”

“At least twenty. I’ve dispatched Haven’s Heart guards, but they may not arrive in time.”

I push past him, already running. “Alert the council. I’m going directly to the camp.”

“Ambassador, wait?—”

But I’m already racing through the silent corridors of Haven’s Heart. Outside, I sprint to the stables where my motorcycle waits. Within minutes, I’m speeding toward the northern forest, praying I’ll reach them in time.

The forest blurs around me as I push the machine to its limits. Fifteen minutes later, I leave the motorcycle at the forest edge and transform into my panther form, feeling my clothes tear away during the transformation.

In panther form, I move swiftly through the dense underbrush, my night vision guiding me toward the Shadow Wolf camp. I detect the scent of humans ahead—unwashed bodies, gun oil, and silver—hunters preparing for violence.

I alter my course to intercept them, tracking silently through the trees. Through gaps in the foliage, I spot the attackers—armed men and women moving with military precision toward the unsuspecting camp.

I have mere seconds to decide. Warning the wolves might alert the settlers, causing them to accelerate their attack. Attempting to stop the settlers alone might prove futile.

The decision becomes clear when I hear a child’s laugh from the direction of the camp. Cubs are in danger.

I circle wide around the attackers, pushing myself to maximum speed. Minutes later, I burst into the Shadow Wolf camp, startling several guards who immediately display teeth and claws .

I transform back to human form, disregarding my nudity in the urgency of the moment.

“Attackers coming! Armed settlers with silver weapons! There are twenty of them, and they’ll be here in five minutes!”

The guards hesitate only briefly before howling an alarm. Within moments, the camp transforms into disciplined chaos—warriors grabbing weapons, mothers gathering cubs, elders moving toward shelters.

Zane emerges from the central tent with Marcus at his side. His expression shows shock when he sees me.

“Ember? What?—”

“Radical settlers,” I explain breathlessly. “Silver weapons. Coming from the east.”

Understanding and determination immediately replace his surprise. He issues rapid orders to Marcus, who sprints off to organize the defense.

“Why are you here?” Zane asks, approaching me.

“Councilor Thorne learned of the plan. I came to warn you.”

Something flickers in his expression—surprise? gratitude?—before he gestures to a nearby female wolf. “Get her clothes.”

The woman hurries off, returning moments later with a simple dress. I quickly pull it on.

“You could have sent a messenger,” Zane says quietly. “Why come yourself?”

Before I can answer, a scout races into the clearing. “They’re here! Surrounding the north quadrant!”

Zane grips my arm. “Get to safety with the elders and cubs.”

“No.” I pull free. “I can fight.”

“This isn’t your battle. ”

“It became my battle when they violated the peace talks.” I hold his gaze. “Besides, I’m faster than any of your wolves.”

A hint of a smile touches his lips. “Debatable.”

Then the first shots ring out, and conversation becomes impossible. We move in opposite directions—Zane toward the northern perimeter, while I make my way toward the eastern edge, where I detect multiple attackers.

I transform again to panther form, the borrowed dress falling away. The night erupts with chaos—gunshots, war cries, snarling wolves.

Three settlers break through the tree line ahead of me, rifles aimed at the camp. I launch myself at the nearest one, knocking him flat. His rifle fires harmlessly skyward as I rake my claws across his chest, deep enough to incapacitate but not kill.

The other two turn their weapons toward me. I spring between them, faster than they can track, taking down the second attacker with a swipe to the leg. The third fires a shot that grazes my flank before I’m upon him, sinking my teeth into his arm.

I feel a sharp, piercing pain in my side from the silver bullet, but I push through it, neutralizing my third opponent.

More attackers emerge from the trees. I engage them one after another, disabling rather than killing. Moving through the shadows, I strike and retreat, sowing confusion in their ranks.

From across the camp, I hear Zane’s fierce howl as he leads his warriors against the main assault. The sound awakens something primal and protective within me.

These wolves belong to my mate. I’m defending my mate’s homeland .

The thought startles me even as it drives me forward with renewed determination. I disable two more attackers, then sprint toward the sound of Zane’s battle.

I find him surrounded by four settlers wielding silver blades. Even in his massive wolf form, he struggles against the poisonous metal. Without hesitation, I join the fight, fire crackling along my fur as my panther abilities manifest fully.

We fight together with surprising coordination. He lunges left while I cover his right. I draw attackers forward as he strikes from behind. We coordinate without words or conscious thought—two apex predators in perfect harmony.

Within minutes, the attack falters. The remaining settlers, recognizing their defeat, begin to retreat. I pursue two of them, attempting to escape with loaded weapons, leaving them disarmed and wounded but alive.

When I return to the central clearing, the battle has ended. Injured wolves receive treatment, while captured settlers lie bound and guarded. The warning arrived just in time to prevent catastrophe.

I limp toward Zane, who directs the cleanup. A gash on his shoulder bleeds heavily—silver damage that will heal slowly.

He turns as I approach, his expression showing concern at my injured state. I transform back to human form, feeling slightly unsteady from the effort.

“You’re hurt,” he says, moving to support me.

“Silver grazing wound. Nothing serious.” I find myself leaning against him despite my intentions. “Your shoulder looks worse.”

“It will heal.” He wraps his arm around my waist. “You fought... impressively.”

“So did you. ”

Around us, the pack observes our interaction with obvious curiosity. I should create distance and maintain our agreed professional boundaries. Instead, I turn toward him, resting my head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat.

“You came to warn us,” he murmurs softly, for my ears alone. “You fought for my pack.”

“I couldn’t let them attack you.” The truth escapes before I can filter it.

His hand cups the back of my neck, and I feel an electric sensation course through my entire body. I look up at him and recognize the same conflict in his expression—duty versus desire, responsibility versus instinct.

For one breathless moment, I think he might kiss me. I think I might welcome it.

Then Marcus approaches, breaking the moment.

“The prisoners are secured,” he reports, his eyes moving suspiciously between us. “Haven’s Heart guards have arrived at the perimeter.”

Zane releases me reluctantly, and I immediately miss his warmth. “Bring them in. We need to resolve this situation properly.”

As Marcus leaves, Zane turns back to me. “This changes everything.”

“I know,” I whisper.

The settlement attack has disrupted our plans for diplomatic distance. Fighting together, protecting his pack—these actions have strengthened the connection between us in ways neither of us anticipated.

Now, standing amid his camp with his people watching, I confront an undeniable truth: I can no longer pretend this bond doesn’t exist. The real question remains—what will we do about it?