13. Ava

"How dare you?"I blurt out, my voice quivering with defiance. As I stand, my balance betrays me, and I wobble precariously, but Ethan is right there, his reflexes swift. We tumble to the floor together. He twists mid-fall, ensuring he takes the brunt of the impact, and I land somewhat gracefully on top of him. It's better than crashing into the floor, but the jolt still jars my broken ribs, drawing a sharp hiss from me.

"Dammit, woman," Ethan rumbles, his voice simmering with a blend of concern and reprimand. It seems like he's gearing up to scold me, but instead, he softens. He sits up gently, cradling me with care right on the hardwood floor. He doesn't move, he just holds me close. "So fucking delicate, yet you're as stubborn as the wickedest storm," he murmurs, his words echoing the typhoon of emotions swirling between us. "My tempest," he whispers under his breath, almost so I can't hear him.

But I do.

My hand rests against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath his skin. Despite the throbbing pain, another kind of warmth spreads through me—a flame ignited by his grip on me. He holds me like I'm his most prized possession. I don't hate it.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," I whisper, biting down on my inner cheek to keep the floodgates of my words firmly closed. Sometimes, I have a habit of saying too much, but right now, every unspoken word hangs between us.

His head tilts back, and his eyes seem to blaze through the ceiling above, searching the skies for patience. I can't help but be captivated by the column of his throat, where the roughness of his scruff fades into the smoothness of his skin. My fingers itch to trace the pattern down and explore every ridge and line of muscle.

Licking my lips, I avert my gaze, a part of me knowing I should try to get up and disentangle myself from his lap. I don't want to. When he adjusts, bringing his knees up slightly, creating a cradle of sorts, I feel an overwhelming sense of security, as if his arms are the only thing shielding me from the chaos of the world outside.

Ethan's gaze finds mine again, his eyes glowing like twin moons in the shadowed room, as if he's peering into the very depths of my soul. It's almost too damn intense. "You are either going to be our salvation or our greatest downfall," he whispers, his voice a soft caress against the skin of my cheek. He leans forward, and his lips brush a soft kiss over my forehead, his scruff igniting a trail of sparks across my skin.

"That sounds like a self-fulfilling prophecy," I admit, leaning into him without an ounce of shame, seeking his warmth, his presence. He may drive me absolutely insane, but I don't want him to let go. What the hell does that say about me?

His grunt is a mix of scoff and chuckle, and even his lips tip up at the edges in a reluctant smile—a rare glimpse of softness in the rugged fa?ade he presents to the world. "Yeah, you could be right about that," he concedes, shaking his head, as if he's trying to dislodge thoughts that only he is privy to. "Did they explain it all to you?"

A shiver worms its way up my spine, like a cold serpent slithering through the warmth that burned between the two of us. I don't want to have this conversation. In fact, I want to run as far and as fast as I can from it, but I don't.

Not like I could even if I wanted to. Ethan holds me tighter, as though he knows I'm about to run.

Despite my eagerness to escape, to hide from his words, I remain in his lap in front of his backdoor, and it's the most intimate moment I have ever experienced in my life. Time seems to stand still, as the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of us in a cocoon of shared breaths and unspoken words.

There is sex, and then there is intimacy. A fine line divides the two. Sex can occur without a single drop of intimacy, and likewise, intimacy can occur without a single moment of sex. Some have a hard time differentiating the two.

This moment feels profound, as though I've uncovered the authentic aspects of Ethan hidden underneath his growly exterior, a beast chained on a leash desperate to break free. I gaze into the depths of his eyes, seeing the vulnerability I don't think he allows the world to see, ever. He cloaks it under layers of authority and a brusque exterior, but now, in this rare moment of stillness, his vulnerability seems to surface like a pearl from the depths of the ocean.

"Then you know you are it for us," he whispers, his full lips pouting ever so slightly as he speaks. His thumbs trace little circles at my waist over my shirt, and I want nothing more than to feel his touch on my skin.

"That's a lot of pressure to put on one woman," I reply, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me.

"It is," he agrees, his voice alleviating just a fraction of that pressure, as if his admission could somehow lighten the load. "But you need to know that if you stay, we will see you as ours, and to humans, that kind of relationship can turn stifling."

"It sounds like you are trying to warn me off," I observe, my hand sliding up his chest almost of its own volition, tracing the lines of his muscles as they flex beneath my fingertips.

"I am," he states flatly, his gaze intense and unyielding, and yet his thumbs dip under my shirt, just where I wanted him to touch me. "Reject us now. Put us out of our misery."

No. The word sits on the tip of my tongue—a silent rebellion against the fate he seems resigned to. I can't do that, even if he wants me to.

My selfishness won't allow me to give him up.

"We're overbearing, Ava," Ethan admits, his voice a low rumble that reverberates beneath my fingertips. Ever so slowly, while still cradling me in his arms, he rises. It's a silent show of his supernatural strength and meticulous control that he doesn't jostle me even a fraction as he stands tall. "We'd prefer to carry you if your legs falter, speak for you when words evade your grasp, and protect you, even if you're a force in your own right. Staying means you become entangled with us, body and soul, in an unbreakable bond. I won't let you go if you stay."

"Can you, um, elaborate on that body part?" The words escape my lips, playful yet full of curiosity, and now I mentally face-palm myself for allowing my impulsive side to take the reins, but there's no reining it back now. I'm all-in it seems, dancing on the edge of a cliff that's both thrilling and terrifying.

He sets me gently on the island, stepping between my legs. A current of heat wafts from him, enveloping me in an invisible embrace that lights up my body from the tips of my toes to the last strand of my hair. He's the epitome of restraint, like a gentleman wrestling with desire held back by an unspoken barrier I want to crash through. I sense that I could unleash the storm within him with the slightest nod, setting us both adrift in its fury.

You're hurt, Ava, remember?Stupid broken bones serving as a glaring and unnecessary reminder of my vulnerability…or maybe my mortality.

"It means that if I wanted to lift Brody's shirt to savor the scent of desire you keep releasing into the air, then I would," he declares, his dark eyes smoldering like coals on the brink of ignition, heavy-lidded with intent as his hands find their rightful place on either side of my thighs. The air between us crackles, as if I needed a reminder of the chemistry between us.

I swallow hard, my voice emerging as a breathy whisper that barely masks the whirlwind of emotions within me. "That doesn't sound so terrible."

"No?" His laugh is full of dark promises and velvety challenges, echoing in the space between us. "Oh, I wouldn't merely stop at a taste. No," he rumbles, his breath a heated whisper against the shell of my ear sending ripples of anticipation and trepidation cascading down my spine. "See, I'd want to explore every inch of you until you pass out from the sheer intensity of it all, and then, after you've had a few hours to recover, I'd wake you up and start over. I'd claim you for my own needs, again and again, until you're screaming my name loud enough to stir the gods themselves."

Yes, I want that. All of that. I swallow again, feeling a rush of heat at his words, my body betraying my attempt to appear unfazed. "Still sounds like you're trying to scare me off with a promise of endless orgasms."

"Endless orgasms," he echoes, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk that hints at both amusement and a raw, untamed yearning. He leans back, only to lift me from the counter before carrying me upstairs with ease. "No, baby, it wouldn't be just a fleeting moment. It'd be an all-consuming storm you'd find yourself eager to be swept away by."

"That's it? Nothing more?" We reach the door to the room they prepared for me. He nudges it open with a gentle push and carries me to the bed, his every movement a mixture of tenderness and restrained power.

He draws the blankets back and lays me down with care that paints me as something infinitely precious yet unnervingly fragile, like a porcelain doll in the hands of an overbearing possessive alpha wolf. "That's it, Ava," he whispers, his presence a looming warmth. "Sleep, and should you need to rise again, don't hesitate to scream." With a wink, he retreats and flicks the light switch, plunging the room into a comforting darkness that wraps around me like a velvet blanket.

What the hell just happened?