Chapter 13
I couldn’t sleep.
No matter how many times I closed my eyes, my mind went back to the moment Ian called me his mate in front of everyone.
The way he held me like I was something precious. The fire in his voice. The look in his eyes that told the world I was his.
It was overwhelming.
And it was terrifying.
I tossed in bed, tangled in my sheets, when my phone buzzed.
Ian: Come outside.
I sat up, heart skipping.
Was he… here?
I slipped on my cardigan and crept downstairs. Mom was asleep. The night was quiet.
When I opened the front door, there he was—leaning against his car, arms crossed, like he belonged to the night itself.
“You couldn’t sleep either?” he asked, voice low.
I shook my head. “You always do this?”
He smirked. “Only when I can’t get someone out of my head.”
I swallowed.
“I needed to see you,” he said, stepping closer. “After today, after everything… I needed to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” I whispered. “Just trying to make sense of everything.”
He was now inches away.
“I don’t want to pressure you, Ava,” he said. “But the pull between us—it’s not something either of us can fight for long.”
My breath caught.
He raised a hand slowly, brushing my cheek with the back of his fingers. His touch was soft, reverent.
“You make me crazy,” he murmured. “The way you try to hide. The way you blush. The way you look at me when you think I’m not noticing…”
I blinked. “I-I wasn’t—”
He smiled, that half-cocked, dangerous grin. “You were.”
Then, slowly, he leaned in. His lips hovered just above mine.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, voice husky.
But I couldn’t.
I didn’t want to.
My body moved before my brain caught up. I reached up, tangled my fingers in his shirt, and pulled him to me.
His lips met mine—and the world melted away.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle.
It was claiming.
Raw. Desperate. Like he had waited a lifetime for this moment.
His hands slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I felt every line of his body against mine, every heartbeat pounding through his chest into mine.
Heat roared through my veins.
I gasped against his lips, and he groaned softly in response.
“I should stop,” he murmured against my mouth. “But I won’t.”
His hand moved up my back, under my cardigan, fingers brushing bare skin.
Goosebumps danced across my arms.
“You’re mine,” he breathed. “And I’m never letting you forget that.”
I pressed my forehead against his, breathless.
“I don’t think I want to,” I whispered.
And in that moment, under the moonlight, tangled in his arms, I knew:
I was already falling.
And there was no going back.