Page 21 of When Two Worlds Collide (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #1)

ZANE

I remain alone in Ember’s office, the door still vibrating from her abrupt departure. Her scent surrounds me—fire and spice with undertones of panic—filling the small space until each breath scorches my lungs. The wolf inside me howls at her absence, demanding I pursue.

Resist. The command echoes in my mind, but my body refuses to obey.

I’ve faced alpha challengers twice my size. Battled Mountain Bears in their own territory. Held my dying father while blood soaked the forest floor. None of it prepared me for this assault on my senses—this raw need clawing beneath my skin.

Papers lie scattered across her desk where we’d mapped patrol routes mere minutes ago. I touch one absently, trailing fingers over territories and boundaries. Such arbitrary lines. As if the forest and mountain recognize human claims. As if what burns between us would respect such boundaries.

My resolve breaks .

I track her scent through Haven’s Heart’s winding corridors, ignoring the alarmed glances from passing council members. Let them stare. Let them whisper. My wolf demands its mate, and I no longer possess the strength to deny it.

Her trail leads to private quarters in the eastern wing. I pause at her door, fist raised, giving her one final chance to maintain the distance we agreed upon. Then I knock, the sound echoing like thunder in the silent hallway.

No answer. But her heartbeat races on the other side—I hear it clearly, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.

“Ember.” My voice emerges as a growl more than a word. “Open the door.”

Silence stretches between us until finally, the lock clicks. The door opens just enough to reveal her face, composed despite the chaos I scent beneath her careful mask.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Her voice holds no conviction.

“Yet here I stand.” I push the door wider, forcing her to step back. “We need to finish what we started in your office.”

I enter without invitation, closing the door behind me.

Her quarters reflect her nature—practical furniture interspersed with unexpected wildness.

A ceremonial knife is displayed alongside diplomatic medals.

Ancestral fire panther statues beside formal council documents.

Two natures fighting for dominance, just as two aspects war within her blood.

“There’s nothing to finish.” She crosses her arms, creating a barrier between us. “What happened was a momentary lapse. It won’t be repeated.”

“Momentary.” I stalk closer, watching her pulse jump in her throat. “Is that what you call this fire between us? This bond that strengthens each time we’re together? ”

“Call it what you want.” She backs away until a writing desk stops her retreat. “Attraction. Biology. Inconvenient chemistry. It doesn’t change our reality.”

“Our reality is this.” I gesture to the invisible current connecting us. “Not your council. Not my pack. This pull between us that you’re still denying.”

“I’m not denying it exists.” Her eyes flash, gold flecks brightening with anger. “I’m accepting we can’t act on it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” I move closer still, until barely a handspan separates us. “There’s a difference, Ambassador.”

“Both.” She tilts her chin upward, defiant despite her obvious response to my proximity. “I have duties to Haven’s Heart. You have obligations to your clan. We lead people who depend on us.”

“People who may soon be at war,” I remind her. “What then? Will your duties matter when our people slaughter each other?”

“That’s why we must focus on the alliance.” She sidesteps, creating distance. “The bear threat gives us the opportunity to unite our forces. If we let this—” she gestures between us “—distract us, we risk everything.”

“Tell me, then.” I track her movement, unwilling to surrender the chase. “List all the reasons we should continue denying what the Moon Goddess herself has ordained.”

Her jaw tightens. “Fine. My people view wild shifters as primitive threats. Your pack considers civilized shifters corrupted weaklings. I represent Haven’s Heart’s diplomatic corps. You lead a clan that still threatens our settlements.”

“Is that all?” I ask, unimpressed.

“We come from different worlds.” Her voice rises. “I was raised with books and council meetings. You were taught to hunt and fight. I believe in negotiation. You value strength above all else.”

“You know nothing of what I value,” I growl.

“I know you’d choose death over compromise.” Her words strike with precision. “You said it yourself in the forest. You’d rather die than change.”

“And you?” I challenge. “Would you surrender your identity so easily? Abandon everything you’ve fought to become?”

She flinches as if struck. “That’s not fair.”

“None of this is fair.” I move forward again, closing the distance she created. “The Goddess rarely concerns herself with fairness when selecting mates.”

“That’s my point.” She presses back against the desk. “Why would she bind together two people who cannot possibly coexist? It makes no sense.”

“Perhaps,” I suggest, my voice dropping lower, “that’s exactly why she chose us. Because what makes no sense to you makes perfect sense to her.”

Something shifts in her expression—uncertainty fracturing her resolve.

“What are you saying?”

“That perhaps change doesn’t mean what you think it means.” I reach forward, not quite touching her face. “Perhaps neither of us truly understands what the other represents.”

A sharp knock interrupts whatever reply forms on her lips. We freeze, inches apart, both breathing too rapidly.

“Ember?” Kade’s voice penetrates the door. “Emergency council session. Now.”

Her eyes widen. “What’s happened?”

“Alliance forces are mobilizing.” Urgency edges his words. “All available members to the war chamber immediately.”

She brushes past me, yanking open the door. Kade stands in the hallway, expression grave until his gaze settles on me. His nostrils flare slightly, detecting our mingled scents.

“Alpha Blackthorn,” he acknowledges, quickly recovering. “You should join us. This concerns your pack directly.”

I follow them through corridors that blur with speed, tension building with each step. The war chamber lives up to its name—maps covering every surface, communication arrays blinking with incoming reports, council members already arguing as we enter.

“What’s happening?” Ember demands, addressing no one in particular.

Elena Brightwood steps forward. “Alliance defensive forces have begun mobilizing. They’ll establish containment perimeters around all wild territories within forty-eight hours.”

“Forty-eight hours?” Ember’s shock echoes my own. “The council agreed to a seven-day grace period!”

“The Mountain Bears attacked another settlement three hours ago.” Elena’s expression hardens. “Seventeen dead, including children. The Vampire-Dragon Alliance overruled our timeline.”

Ice floods my veins. Another attack. More deaths that Stormcrow will ensure all wild shifters are blamed for.

“My pack had nothing to do with this,” I state firmly.

“We believe you,” Kade responds, though others appear less convinced. “But containing individual clans has become politically impossible. The Alliance demands unified action against all emerging territories. ”

Images flash through my mind—armed forces surrounding my pack’s territory. Cubs caught in crossfire. Warriors slaughtered defending our rightful homeland. The annihilation of everything we’ve fought to reclaim.

“This is madness,” Ember argues. “The Shadow Wolves have cooperated with our negotiations. They defended Clearwater Crossing against the bears. Punishing them alongside Stormcrow’s clan ignores these facts.”

“Facts matter little when grieving families demand action,” Elena replies. “The Alliance gave us two options—participate in containment or stand aside while they handle it themselves.”

The implications crystallize with brutal clarity. The Shadow Wolf pack faces extinction—not through combat with equals but through systematic extermination by an overwhelming force. We are strong, but even the strongest wolf falls before enough hunters.

I must have swayed slightly because suddenly Ember stands beside me, close enough that her shoulder brushes mine. The contact anchors me as the room threatens to tilt.

“There must be alternatives,” she insists, addressing the council. “The Bear clan is moving west through Shadow Wolf territory toward Clearwater Crossing. If we coordinate defenses?—”

“The decision is made,” Elena interrupts. “This session exists to coordinate our role in the operation, not to debate its merits.”

The discussion continues around me, but their words blur into meaningless noise. My pack trusted me to lead them home. I promised them sanctuary in ancestral lands. Instead, I’ve delivered them to slaughter.

I feel a touch on my arm—gentle, anchoring. Ember’s fingers press briefly against my wrist, hidden from the others by our bodies.

“We need to speak privately,” she murmurs. “I have an idea.”

I follow her to a small antechamber off the main war room. She closes the door, then turns to me with fierce determination burning in her eyes.

“Listen to me,” she says urgently. “There’s still a way to save your pack.”

“How?” The word scrapes my throat. “Your council has made their decision.”

“Not my council,” she corrects. “The Alliance. And they’re not targeting your pack specifically—they’re responding to Stormcrow’s aggression. If we demonstrate the Shadow Wolves are fundamentally different?—”

“They won’t care,” I interrupt. “They see all wild shifters as the same threat.”

“Then we change how they see.” Her intensity catches me off guard. “We show them integration is possible.”

“Integration?” The concept tastes foreign on my tongue. “My pack won’t surrender their ways.”

“I’m not asking them to.” She steps closer. “I’m suggesting we demonstrate a new model—wild strength with civilized cooperation.”

Something in her expression shifts, vulnerability replacing determination. “But it would require sacrifice. From both of us.”