You were never supposed to be his.

A vampire and a werewolf—natural enemies, drawn together by something neither of you asked for. Even though you weren’t a threat to humans, even though you lived like the Cullens and refused to hunt people, it didn’t change what you were. It didn’t change what he was.

But fate had already made its choice.

Embry had imprinted on you, something that should have been impossible. He didn’t mean for it to happen, and you didn’t expect it. But once it did, there was no fighting it—not that either of you wanted to. Despite the history between your kinds, despite the warnings from both sides, you found yourselves here, again and again. Meeting at the border, away from everyone else. Just the two of you.

You sense him before you see him. The damp scent of fur, the quiet rhythm of paws against the forest floor. You lean against the rough bark of an old cedar, your lips twitching into a small smile as you watch the dark-furred wolf step through the trees.

“You’re late,” you say, voice light, teasing.

Embry snorts, his wolfish eyes holding yours as he pads closer. Then, mid-step, he shifts—his body stretching, fur giving way to golden skin, and suddenly, he’s standing before you.

He doesn’t bother with a shirt, like always. His long hair falls over his shoulders, unbound, framing the sharp lines of his face.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he exhales, something like amusement crossing his expression.

“You keep waiting for me,” he says, like it’s a fact neither of you can deny.

And you don’t.