“For as long as I’m needed.”
The brief light in Danielo’s eyes faded. “You’re not going to complete the bond?”
“I can’t.” He spoke like a robot, rehearsing the speech he’d meant for Zio if Zio asked him such questions. “It would bring my entire clan into the war, which in turn would set every wolf pack in the world against you.”
“So? If they want to fight us that bad, they’ll find a way. Why not let it be this?”
“It’s not just about wolves. The world is bigger than you.”
“Your clan won’t fight?”
“Why should they? Why would they risk everything because of a potential bond nobody wants?”
Danielo tilted his head sideways. “You’re different.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah. For real. The Devan who saved us from annihilation never looked at me like you are now.”
“And how’s that?”
“Like you already died.”
Danielo let his hand slip from Devan’s arm and walked away, his disappointment in Devan, for whatever reason, seeping from him in waves that only added to the despair lacing Devan’s every breath. Didn’t he understand? Devan had no idea if he truly wanted to bond with Zio, and he never would. It wasn’t his choice. He had orders, and right now, in a war that wasn’t his, nothing else mattered.
Rubbing his chest, Devan gave in to the instinct pulling him towards Zio. They’d have to face each other eventually, and while Luca’s alpha command echoed in Devan’s mind, fresh and uncompromising, stronger than any bond, now seemed as good a time as any.
As Devan drew closer to the tent where he sensed Zio sleeping, he was almost convinced. Then he ducked under the tarpaulin, and yearning hit him like a runaway train.
He fell to his knees, breath stolen, as Zio slept on, sprawled out on the crumpled sleeping bags, innocent, beautiful, and so peaceful Devan could’ve wept. He’d always longed to see Zio like this, face untouched by grief and pain, smoothed of war-weary fatigue.
Zio.Devan reached out with shaking hands, caught himself, and pulled them back.Don’t wake him.
But it was too late. What little noise he’d made reached Zio, and the young wolf stirred. His eyes fluttered open; his senses came to life. He bolted upright, gaze fixed on Devan before the confusion of sleep had cleared, and when he spoke, it was a whisper.
“You came back.”
Chapter Eighteen
Devan sat by the tent entrance, muscles coiled and tight, as though Zio could blink and he’d be gone, leaving a void behind that no other could ever fill. Only his gaze was in motion, scanning Zio’s body, clearly checking him for injuries.
I’m fine, Devan. You healed me before I woke up at that damn-fucking sand plant.
Zio moved slowly, untangling himself from the cosy pit he’d knocked out in. Every part of him was screaming to touch Devan, but deep-rooted instincts warned him off.Don’t scare him.
It was hard to imagine that the last time they’d been alone like this, they’d been rolling on the ground, kissing, grinding... all the things they’d never do again if the set of Devan’s jaw was anything to go by.
Zio’s heart filled with dread.
He pushed it aside.
This isn’t just about that. And what do youwantfrom him? To bond? To fuck? To fight?
Arguments for all three battled in Zio’s soul. He licked his lips. “Danielo told me what you did for Bomber. He thinks none of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t put yourself at risk to save him when you were already hurt yourself... that you were too exhausted to resist your instincts.”
Devan’s gaze flickered. “I wasn’t hurt when I healed Bomber.”
“You had been, though. I can still smell your blood.”