Page 22 of When Two Worlds Collide (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #1)

Understanding dawns. “The bond.”

She nods. “If we complete the mate bond, it creates precedent. The first formal union between wild and civilized shifter leadership. A living symbol of integration.”

The proposal stuns me into silence. After all her resistance, all her logical arguments against our connection, she now suggests embracing it completely. The contradiction seems incomprehensible.

“You’d abandon everything?” I finally manage. “Your position, your duty to Haven’s Heart—everything you listed moments ago?”

“Not abandon,” she clarifies. “Transform. I’d become something new—neither fully wild nor completely civilized. A bridge between worlds.”

I study her face, searching for deception or manipulation, finding only determination mingled with fear.

“Why?” I demand. “Why sacrifice yourself for my pack?”

“Because I’ve seen your people,” she says softly. “I’ve walked your sacred grounds. I’ve fought beside your warriors. They don’t deserve extermination because of Stormcrow’s actions.”

Her words strike deeper than she knows. No one in my lifetime has defended Shadow Wolves except other Shadow Wolves. The concept of an outsider—particularly a Haven’s Heart diplomat—fighting for our survival seems impossible.

Yet here she stands, offering herself as a sacrifice to save my pack.

“And there’s more,” she admits, her voice dropping lower. “I’m tired of fighting this bond. It strengthens daily, as you said. The pain of resistance grows worse. Perhaps the Goddess knew what she was doing after all.”

The revelation of her suffering mirrors my own—the constant ache beneath my breastbone, the pull that intensifies whenever we’re apart. The bond doesn’t tolerate denial.

“You understand what completing the bond means?” I ask. “Three days in animal form. Surrendering to instinct completely. No turning back once we begin.”

She swallows but nods. “I understand. I’ve researched everything about the ritual. ”

“Research isn’t experience,” I warn. “The claiming ritual will change you fundamentally.”

“Then explain what I can’t learn from books.” Her golden-green eyes meet mine without wavering. “Help me understand what I’m agreeing to.”

Before I can respond, the door opens. Kade stands in the threshold, his expression grave as he looks between us.

“The council is finalizing deployment details,” he says. “They want both of you present.”

Ember straightens, mask of Ambassador falling into place. “We’ll be right there.”

When Kade leaves, she turns back to me. “Meet me at dawn tomorrow. The boundary stone where we first began negotiations. Come alone.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then your pack faces Alliance forces without allies.” Her directness holds no manipulation, only truth. “But I think you’ll come. Because, despite everything, you know this is our only chance.”

She moves toward the door, but I catch her arm. The contact sends electricity through my veins, the bond humming between us.

“Why dawn?” I ask.

“Because if we’re doing this, we need all three days before the Alliance forces arrive.” Her pulse races beneath my fingers. “Forty-eight hours minus preparation time. We’ll barely complete the ritual in time.”

The reality of her proposal hits with full force. She’s not merely suggesting we acknowledge the bond—she intends to complete the ancient claiming ritual immediately. To transform herself before the Alliance forces surround us.

“You’ve thought this through,” I observe.

“I’ve done little else since our conversation in the forest.” She doesn’t pull away from my grip. “I’ll have preparations in place by dawn.”

For the first time since entering the war chamber, hope flickers to life. A desperate hope, but hope nonetheless. If the bond is completed, if Ember becomes my true mate before the Alliance forces arrive, perhaps my pack stands a chance.

Yet even as this hope rises, doubt shadows it. Ember proposing this sacrifice seems too convenient, too perfectly timed. The diplomat in her could be manipulating me, using the bond to control my pack’s response to the Alliance.

I release her arm. “Dawn, then.”

She hesitates, something unspoken in her eyes. For a moment, the diplomatic mask slips, revealing vulnerability beneath.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Zane, whatever doubts you harbor—know this.” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “I’m terrified. But I’m also tired of denying what I feel every time we’re together.”

With those words, she returns to the war chamber, leaving me alone with a decision that will determine my pack’s future—and my own.

I stare at the closed door, the bond between us pulling like a physical tether even through solid wood. My certainty about absolute positions—wild versus civilized, freedom versus constraint—wavers for the first time.

Because if Ember Steelclaw, Haven’s Heart ambassador, defender of structure and order, can contemplate transforming herself so completely, perhaps change doesn’t mean what I thought it meant. Perhaps evolution doesn’t require surrender.

Perhaps, like the fire that defines her panther form, transformation can forge something stronger than either original element.

I follow her into the war chamber, my decision already forming. Dawn will reveal whether hope or extinction awaits the Shadow Wolves…and whether the bond between fire and shadow will save our worlds or consume them completely.