Lucien stood near the edge of the forest, watching the sunset. The bond was there—unavoidable, thrumming beneath his skin like a steady pulse, like the call of the wild. He had known for weeks now, had felt the bond settle into him with a quiet, relentless certainty. You were his mate. But still, he ignored it.

You approached from behind, the scent of cinnamon and something warm, intoxicating, wrapping around him like a cloak. Your voice was quiet, but it still sent a shock through him. "You've been quiet today."

He turned, locking eyes with you, the pull of the bond like gravity between them. He had wanted this. Wanted you.

But there was too much at stake. Too many consequences. Too many reasons to walk away.

His lips parted but no words came out. Instead, he took a step back, the space between them still too far, yet far too close. He cleared his throat before speaking softly, "I don't have anything to say."