Page 16 of When Two Worlds Collide (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #1)

“But we’d remain ourselves,” I argue. “Simply connected.”

“Connected beyond what contemporary shifters comprehend.” He shakes his head. “Your society values independence above all else. The bond eliminates that entirely.”

“You can’t know my values,” I challenge, continuing forward. The magnetic pull strengthens with proximity, creating tingling sensations across my skin. “Perhaps I’m less ‘conventional’ than you assume.”

“Prove it,” he murmurs.

His challenge hangs between us in the moonlit clearing. My control falters, my panther rising. Wild energy surrounds us in the living darkness.

“If we shifted now,” I wonder, “what would happen?”

“The bond would immediately strengthen.” His voice deepens, roughens. “Our animals already recognize each other. In shifted form, beneath moonlight, in wild territory... instinct would overwhelm us.”

“Would that initiate the ritual?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “The ritual requires conscious intention from both participants. But we would experience what could exist—what the bond offers.”

My heartbeat intensifies until I believe he must hear it. Part of me yearns to retreat to Haven’s Heart, to safety, rules, and clear boundaries. But another part—growing stronger since meeting Zane—wants to plunge into this unknown.

“Would shifting momentarily help us comprehend?” I whisper.

“It would complicate resistance.” His pupils expand, black nearly consuming silver. “Once our animals connect more deeply, the pull becomes virtually irresistible.”

I begin to comprehend his fear. Not of me, but what I represent—a fundamental challenge to everything he believes about strength and survival. Just as he challenges everything I believe about structure and cooperation.

“Tell me about pack laws,” I say, forcing myself to step backward, thinking rationally. “If I became your mate, what obligations would bind me?”

“Pack before self,” he recites immediately. “Alpha pair before pack. Cubs before all. The strong protect the weak. Territory must be defended to death.”

“What about my obligations to Haven’s Heart? To the settlements?”

“They would become secondary.” His honesty cuts sharply. “A mated pair’s primary loyalty belongs to each other and their pack. All other connections weaken.”

I imagine abandoning my duty, my brother, my people. The thought nauseates me. Yet the attraction toward Zane feels equally powerful—a biological imperative I struggle to contain.

“This creates an impossible situation,” I whisper.

“Yes.” His features harden. “Which necessitates continued resistance, regardless of consequences.”

“Even if we die from it?”

“Then we die authentic to ourselves, not as half-creatures torn between worlds.”

The finality of his words affects me deeply. He would choose death over changing his fundamental nature—over accommodating any aspect of my world.

“That’s your solution?” Anger flares unexpectedly. “Accept slow death because you’re too rigid to consider compromise?”

“Compromise?” His laugh lacks humor. “What middle ground exists between untamed and domesticated? Between freedom and constraint? Your people want to tame us, make us ‘proper’ like yourselves.”

“That’s inaccurate,” I protest. “I’ve witnessed your way of life. I understand why you fight to preserve it. But that doesn’t eliminate possibilities for a middle ground. ”

“Nature offers only survival or death, strength or weakness,” he growls.

“Then why did the Moon Goddess create this bond between us?” I demand. “Why connect people from opposite worlds without hope for understanding?”

He offers no response, and in his silence, I sense a small victory.

“Perhaps,” I continue more gently, “the bond exists precisely because we need to discover that middle path. Because neither world survives alone anymore.”

A stillness falls over the surrounding forest. The Mountain Bear attacks have transformed this theoretical discussion into urgent practicality. War approaches. Integration versus isolation now represents immediate choices with life-or-death consequences.

“I should return to Haven’s Heart,” I say finally. “The council meets at dawn regarding the Mountain Bear situation.”

Zane nods, our connection momentarily severed. “I’ll accompany you to the border.”

We walk silently, questions unanswered between us. At the territory boundary, I pause.

“If a compromise existed,” I ask, “some arrangement allowing us to complete the bond without either surrendering our identities entirely... would you consider it?”

He studies me thoughtfully. “Such compromise doesn’t exist.”

“But hypothetically?”

His expression softens slightly. “I don’t know.”

Not much encouragement, but not outright rejection either. I turn to leave, then hesitate.

“Zane?”

“Yes? ”

“Thank you for explaining. For your honesty about the ritual’s meaning.”

He inclines his head slightly. “Knowledge enables choice.”

I cross into neutral territory, my mind processing everything learned. The claiming ritual simultaneously terrifies and compels me—surrendering to natural instincts my panther craves while my rational mind resists.

Zane’s certainty that compromise cannot exist frustrates me. There must exist a path honoring both wild freedom and structured cooperation. The mate bond wouldn’t exist otherwise.

I need to discover it before the Mountain Bears force choices we aren’t prepared to make—or before resisting the bond gradually kills us both.

Back at Haven’s Heart, Kade waits in my quarters.

“Well?” he asks upon my entrance. “Did you find answers?”

I collapse into a chair, exhaustion overwhelming me. “Yes. Worse than imagined.”

I explain the wild claiming ritual, the complete identity surrender, and the absolute primacy of pack bonds.

“So you’d leave Haven’s Heart,” Kade summarizes. “Join his pack.”

“Completely. Forever.” I stare at my hands. “Abandon everything I’ve worked toward.”

Kade remains quiet momentarily. “What does your panther think about this situation?”

The question surprises me. “What?”

“Your panther. Your animal aspect. What’s her perspective?”

I’ve never considered that my shifted form might hold separate opinions from my human consciousness. Yet examining inward, I discover my panther possesses remarkably clear desires.

“She wants it,” I admit. “The freedom. The simplicity. The primal connection.”

“And what does Ember the woman want?”

“I want...” Words fail me initially. “I want both worlds. To maintain my identity, my purpose, but also to have... him.”

“Perhaps that provides your answer,” Kade suggests quietly. “Not choosing between worlds, but finding existence in both.”

“Zane insists that’s impossible.”

“And you believe him?” Kade raises an eyebrow. “A man who spent his entire life isolated from our world? Who perceives only absolutes?”

Framed that way, Zane’s pronouncements about possibility seem presumptuous.

“The wild claiming ritual has existed for thousands of years,” Kade continues. “But so have evolution, adaptation, and change. Perhaps ancient practices need updating for contemporary realities.”

His words spark the first hope I’ve felt since learning the bond’s truth.

“The question,” Kade says, rising to leave, “is whether Blackthorn possesses that flexibility. And whether you’ll fight for it rather than simply accepting his limitations as truth.”

After his departure, I stand at my window, gazing at Haven’s Heart’s lights. This place represents my home, my purpose. The prospect of leaving creates physical pain.

But thinking of Zane—his unwavering strength, our seamless battle coordination, as if we’d trained together for years—creates another ache. Equally powerful. Equally real .

I’m torn between dual natures, separate worlds, and conflicting duties.

There must exist a way to honor both. I need to find it before war eliminates all choice, or before the bond’s physical toll becomes unbearable.

I retrieve paper and begin writing, outlining possibilities, compromises, and adaptations to the traditional ritual. If Zane won’t consider alternatives, I’ll create them myself. Present them with irrefutable logic that even his stubborn mind must acknowledge.

Because I refuse the binary options of complete surrender or slow death. A third path must exist—allowing us to be both untamed and structured, both free and connected.

I work throughout the night, planning a revolution in mate bonding that neither of our worlds has witnessed before.