Page 32 of When Two Worlds Collide (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #1)

T hree Months Later

The scent of pine smoke and brewing coffee mingles with something uniquely mine—burnt sugar and ozone, the smell of barely controlled fire.

I stand at the window of what we’ve taken to calling the Mediation Center, though it’s really just a collection of rough-hewn buildings straddling the border between wild and civilized territories.

“The Frost Lynx delegation is getting restless,” Maya, my assistant, says from the doorway. She’s one of Marcus’s exiles who returned last month, drawn by reports of what we’re building here.

“Let them wait.” I don’t turn from the window where I watch Zane teaching a mixed group of young shifters—wild and settlement-born—how to track prey. “The Red Claws aren’t here yet, and Senna needs to learn patience if these accords are going to work.”

Through our bond, I feel Zane’s amusement at something one of the cubs says. The connection hums between us now, seamless and constant, a warmth that never fades. His thoughts brush mine: Stop micromanaging and come down here.

Someone has to keep the Lynx from eating the bears, I reply, but I’m already moving.

The main hall holds an impossible gathering.

Six months ago, these clans would have killed each other on sight.

Now they share space, wary but working toward something unprecedented.

Frost Lynx perch elegantly on benches, their pale beauty ethereal in morning light.

Red Claw coyotes pace the perimeter, unable to fully settle.

And in the corner, taking up more space than seems possible, Ridge Stormcrow himself sits with two of his lieutenants.

That negotiation took a month and nearly cost three lives, but the Mountain Bears now hold recognized territory with defined boundaries. Amazing what becomes possible when you nearly burn someone’s fur off, then offer them exclusive rights to the best salmon runs.

“Ambassador,” Stormcrow rumbles as I pass. He never uses my name, but the title holds respect now rather than mockery.

“Chief Stormcrow.” I incline my head. “The agreements for the eastern valley?”

“My bears have marked the boundaries as discussed. No settlements were harmed.” His scarred face attempts what might be a smile. “Your influence spreads, fire-touched one. Even my warriors speak of cooperation now.”

“Survival requires adaptation,” I reply, but warmth spreads through my chest at the progress.

I make my way through the crowd, greeting representatives, smoothing conflicts, being the bridge I’ve chosen to become. But halfway across the room, a wave of nausea hits. I grip the nearest table, breathing through it.

Ember? Zane’s concern spikes through our bond .

I’m fine, I lie, but he’s already moving. I feel him excuse himself from the training session, his long strides eating up the distance between us.

He appears at my elbow just as the nausea passes, his hand finding my lower back with practiced ease. To observers, it looks like casual mate contact. Through our bond, I feel him scanning for threats, for illness, for anything that might harm me.

“You need to eat,” he murmurs. “You skipped breakfast again.”

“I was reviewing the southern border proposals?—”

“Eat.” He steers me toward a quiet corner where someone—probably him—has left a plate of meat and bread. “The accords can wait five minutes.”

I want to argue, but another wave of dizziness makes the decision for me. I sink into a chair, accepting the food while he hovers protectively.

“You’re worse today,” he observes, crouching beside me so we’re eye level. “The healers?—”

“I saw Mira this morning.” I take a careful bite of bread, testing my stomach’s cooperation. “She confirmed what we suspected.”

His whole body goes still. Through our bond, I feel the storm of emotions—joy, terror, fierce protectiveness, and wonder all tangled together.

“Confirmed?” His voice comes out rough.

I place his hand on my still-flat stomach. “Three weeks, maybe four. Early yet, but...” I smile at his expression. “We’re having a cub.”

The mental explosion of his joy nearly knocks me over. He pulls me against him, burying his face in my hair, and I feel him trembling.

“Cubs,” he corrects after a moment. “Mira heard two distinct heartbeats.”

I pull back to stare at him. “Twins?”

“The fire panther line often produces multiples.” His grin is pure wolf satisfaction. “You’re carrying our future, wildfire. The first cubs born to this alliance.”

“No pressure,” I mutter, but I’m smiling too.

The moment breaks when Maya appears, looking harried. “Ambassador, I’m sorry, but your brother just arrived. He says it’s urgent.”

We find Kade in my office, travel-worn and tense. He relaxes slightly when he sees me, then notices Zane’s protective hovering and raises an eyebrow.

“News travels fast,” I say by way of explanation.

“Congratulations.” His smile is genuine but brief. “Though this complicates what I came to discuss.”

“What’s happened?” Zane asks, his hand finding mine.

Kade spreads a map across my desk—not just our region but the entire continent. Red marks indicate emerging territories, far more than we knew about.

“The barriers didn’t just fail here,” he says.

“Ancient clans are awakening everywhere. Some are willing to negotiate—word of your success has spread. But others...” He points to a massive territory in the far north.

“The Dire Wolves have claimed everything above the Frost Line. They make Stormcrow look reasonable.”

I study the map, mind already calculating. “You want us to expand. Take our model continental.”

“The Council is prepared to offer full support. Resources, personnel, whatever you need.” He meets my eyes. “But it would mean constant travel, dangerous negotiations, being away from your territory for months at a time.”

Through our bond, I feel Zane’s immediate rejection of the idea. His protective instincts have only intensified since confirming the pregnancy. But beneath that, I also feel his understanding of necessity.

“How long do we have to decide?” I ask.

“The Dire Wolves give us a month before they start expanding south.” Kade’s expression is grim. “Less if they ally with the Storm Eagles or the Deep Runners.”

After he leaves, promising to return tomorrow for our answer, Zane and I stand at the window watching the sun set over our mixed territory. Below, wild and civilized shifters work side by side, preparing evening meals, sharing patrol duties, living the impossible dream we’ve built.

“You want to do it,” he says. It’s not a question.

“What we’ve built here matters. If we can spread it, save lives, prevent wars...” I touch my stomach. “I want our cubs born into a world with choices, not just conflict.”

“Our cubs need their mother alive.” His arms wrap around me from behind. “The Dire Wolves aren’t like the clans here. They’re older, more vicious. And you’ll be vulnerable while carrying.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You don’t know how to be careful.” But his tone holds resignation rather than anger. Through our bond, I feel him accepting what I already know—we can’t ignore this call.

“Together,” I remind him. “Whatever we do, we do together.”

He turns me to face him, hands framing my face. “You’ve corrupted me, wildfire. The wolf I was would never consider leaving his territory to save strangers.”

“And the woman I was would never have understood that sometimes violence is necessary.” I lean into his touch. “We’re both different now. Better.”

“Different, anyway.” But he’s smiling. “Alright. We’ll tell Kade yes tomorrow. But on our terms—we build a team, not just the two of us. We train others to carry on here. And the moment those cubs decide to arrive, we come home.”

“Agreed.” I kiss him, tasting possibility and challenge in equal measure.

As full dark falls, we shift and run our borders one more time. My panther revels in the freedom, in the strength the completed bond provides, in the simple joy of racing beside my mate. Tomorrow brings new challenges—Dire Wolves and Storm Eagles and politics that span a continent.

But tonight, we run.

A wolf and a panther, wild and civilized, proof that bridging worlds is possible.

Behind us, our territories merge in unprecedented cooperation.

Ahead, a future waits to be written by those brave enough to see beyond tradition.

And within me, new life grows—the next generation who will know no barriers between worlds, only the bridges we build for them to cross .