Broken Heart

7 Consent

KEVIN'S POV

"David," I said, my voice firm, my gaze unwavering as I met his searching eyes. "Rose and I are friends. Close friends, yes, but nothing more. Never have been, never will be."

I poured the sincerity of my heart into those words, willing him to see the truth reflected in my eyes. There was no deception, no hidden agenda. My bond, my loyalty, had just been claimed by the boy standing before me.

He continued to look at me, his gaze piercing, as if trying to unravel the very fabric of my being, searching for any hint of falsehood. The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the potent scent of his heat. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a soft "Okay" escaped his lips. The tension in his grip eased slightly, and I allowed myself a small sigh of relief.

 As I turned again, my intention still to find something to ease his discomfort, his hand shot out once more, stopping me in my tracks. But this time, something was different.

The gentle hesitancy in his touch was gone, replaced by a raw, primal urgency. His grip tightened, his nails digging slightly into my skin. His eyes, when I turned back, were no longer his own. They glowed with an inner intensity, the pupils dilated, reflecting a wildness I hadn't seen before. This wasn't David. This was his inner wolf, unleashed.

 Without a word, he pulled, the unexpected strength in his grip sending me stumbling backwards until the backs of my legs hit the edge of my bed. I fell onto the mattress, the soft linen yielding beneath my weight. Before I could fully register what was happening, he was on me, crawling across my chest, his body radiating an almost unbearable heat.

His face was mere inches from mine, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The sweet, intoxicating scent of his heat enveloped me, overwhelming my senses. His eyes, still glowing with that primal intensity, locked onto mine. And then, he spoke, his voice a low, guttural growl that vibrated through my very bones.

"Don't leave. Stay here."

The command was absolute, undeniable. And then, a whimper escaped his lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated pain. His body tensed, arching slightly against mine. "It hurts… so much," he gasped, his grip on my shoulders tightening convulsively.

My own instincts flared, a protective urge so fierce it threatened to consume me. The sight of him in distress, the raw vulnerability in his eyes, ignited a fire within me that had nothing to do with his heat. My mate was hurting, and I needed to do something, anything, to ease his pain.

The earlier reservations about rushing things vanished, replaced by a primal need to comfort, to protect, to be there for him in this overwhelming moment.

The room felt charged, the air thick with unspoken desires and the raw reality of our bond. His heat, his pain, his primal command – it all crashed over me, a tidal wave of sensation and responsibility.

My mate needed me. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The raw intensity of his inner wolf's command resonated through me, a primal force that was both compelling and unsettling. While the possessiveness stirred something deep within my own wolf, I knew that this wasn't David. This wasn't the boy whose hesitant gaze and quiet question had just moments before captured my attention. This was instinct, pure and untamed.