Chapter 26

Esther’s POV

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the scrape of my suitcase wheels against the floor. My hands shook as I folded yet another shirt, pressing the fabric flat against the neatly packed stacks in my bag.

Each movement felt deliberate and methodical like a ritual I was performing to convince myself that leaving Blue Lake Pack was the only option. That leaving would protect Kevin’s reputation, shield my children, and prevent another public disaster.

The headlines from earlier that morning still haunted me: “Alpha King Nicholas Crawford and Dr. E. Arden Spotted Together at Medical Summit!” The photos burned into my brain. They showed the closeness, the casual touch of hands that weren’t meant to be touching, the poised confidence I had displayed while presenting my research.

Nicholas’s hand had brushed near mine, almost magnetic, almost claiming. And now, after the summit and the media frenzy, I could feel the press closing in from every angle, even here in the pack’s secure enclave.

I shouldn’t be here. Not anymore. Kevin had enough on his plate already. If the pack caught wind of a scandal, even a manufactured one, it would destroy him politically, socially, emotionally.

I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t risk the chaos my mere existence—my proximity to Nicholas—could unleash. I had to leave.

I zipped the final compartment of my suitcase, took a deep breath, and tried to calm the storm inside me.

I had survived worse, had endured worse, but the raw tension of the past twenty-four hours had stripped me nearly bare. And I knew, deep in my bones, that leaving was the only way to regain some semblance of control over my life, my choices, and the lives of those I loved.

Then the door slammed open.

I froze. My hands hovered mid-air, the echo of the impact bouncing in my skull.

Nicholas stood in the doorway. His presence was like a storm rolling into a quiet valley, consuming everything in its path. Dark eyes blazing, jaw tight, the faint curve of his mouth almost a snarl.

It was enough to make my pulse spike. I had spent six years keeping him out of my life, keeping myself invisible, and now he was here, uninvited, impossibly real, and impossibly dangerous.

“What are you doing, Esther?” His voice was low, rough, charged with something that made the air between us thrum.

I swallowed, feeling my throat tighten.

“I… I’m just… packing,” I muttered, but my words sounded small, inadequate, and transparent against the strength of his presence.

His gaze swept over my packed bags, the stacks of folded clothing, the careful, organized chaos of my life in motion.

“You’re leaving?” The single word was more a growl than a question. “Leaving… for him?”

My stomach lurched. For him? He meant Kevin. Nicholas’s eyes narrowed, reading me, twisting my intentions into something sinister, something forbidden.

“No! I—” I faltered, desperate to explain, to make him understand, but Nicholas closed the distance between us in impossibly long strides, his wolf coiling beneath his skin, ready to strike, ready to claim, ready to demand.

“You’re his lover,” he hissed, voice low and venomous. “Admit it. Tell me it’s true.”

The words ignited a fire in my chest I hadn’t felt in years. No. Absolutely not. I would not, could not, allow him to twist my motives or my heart into something it was not.

“Are you here to throw accusations at me?” I snapped, sharp as the crack of ice, my hands trembling.

My protest only seemed to fuel his intensity. His dark eyes burned into mine, and I felt the mate bond thrumming through the room, wild, raw, impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t just attraction. It wasn’t just desire. It was claiming, a magnetic force neither of us could entirely resist, an invisible thread tugging us toward inevitable collision.

“I don’t care what you say,” he whispered, voice rough with desperation. “I know you’re mine, and I won’t watch you give yourself to anyone else.”

Before I could react, before my mind could process or object, he reached for me. His hands gripped my shoulders like iron, strong, unrelenting. My breath hitched as his proximity ignited something inside me, the dormant spark of the mate bond finally flaring to life. My pulse hammered in my ears. Every nerve ending sang with the pull of him, with the undeniable truth I had tried so hard to bury.

Then his mouth was on mine.

The kiss was bruising, demanding, desperate. Every muscle in his body pressed against mine, every ounce of his control spilling into fire and friction.

Part of me wanted to melt into him, to surrender, to let the bond pull me under.

The memories came crashing back: the headlines, the humiliation, the public gaze, Amanda’s manipulations, the abuse, the whispers.

This man, this mate, could burn everything I had built in a single touch, in a single claim.

I shoved him back with all the strength I could muster, teeth bared, wolf snarling, eyes blazing.

“That’s enough!

Nicholas stumbled back slightly, stunned by the force of my defiance. I saw the flicker of vulnerability, of shock, in his eyes. The fire was still there—anger, jealousy, longing—but it was tempered by something else: respect, fear, awe.

“I—” he began, voice rough and ragged, but I cut him off, stepping closer, wolf growling, chest tight with the effort to stand my ground.

“No,” I said firmly, unwavering. “I am not your possession. I am not anyone’s pawn. I will not be controlled, manipulated, or claimed against my will—not by you, not by anyone!”

His chest heaved. The wolf coiled tight, restless, frustration and desire mingling into an ache that made him tremble. But he stayed back, just far enough to let me breathe, just far enough to show that even his strength could be restrained when confronted with mine.

“You are mine,” he whispered, almost reverently, the mate bond in his voice undeniable, dangerous. “Always.”

I looked away, gripping the handle of my suitcase, forcing my thoughts onto the logistics of leaving rather than the pull of his presence. I refused to succumb, refused to let the spark of our bond dictate my actions. My life was mine, and I had survived too much, endured too much, and fought too hard to give in now.

“I am not yours,” I said quietly but firmly. “And I will not let you—or anyone—control my choices again. Not now. Not ever.”

Nicholas’s eyes darkened, wolf growl low but restrained. He wanted to argue, to claim, to drag me back under the spell of the bond we shared. I could feel it in the air, thick and heavy, pressing against my skin, demanding surrender. But I refused. I had lived in shadows long enough. I had fought for autonomy. I would not give it up.

“Get out, right now.” I pointed to the door. For a moment, he didn’t move a muscle. I held strong.

I had survived. I had survived the kiss, the claim, the temptation, and the pull of Nicholas Crawford. I had survived myself.

Nicholas, a scowl on his face, turned and stomped toward the door. He flung it open so hard it smashed the wall on the other side, leaving a mark. As he stepped out, he looked over his shoulder back at me.

“Remember who you are, Alpha King!” I spat, voice trembling with adrenaline and fury. “Remember who you are!”