Chapter 8

8

Liza couldn't believe she'd fallen for it again—the sweet words, the promises, the look in his eyes that had made her think she was special. And all the while, he was engaged to another woman. She wasn't his fated mate. She was just a fool, duped by another smooth-talking shifter.

The anger surged up in her, hot and wild. Before she could think better of it, she launched herself at him. Liza swung her fists with the force of her rage.

Rylan was ready for her. He deflected her punches with ease. His hands caught her wrists and redirected her blows away from his body.

"Liza—" he started, but she cut him off with another wild swing.

"You liar," she spat. "You told me I was your fated mate."

Rylan didn't let go of her wrists. Instead, he stepped back to put some distance between them. "You are."

"Clearly, you tell that to all the girls." Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pulled her hands free and aimed another punch at his chest.

He dodged it easily, his movements fluid and controlled. Instead of retaliating, he simply glanced over her shoulder, where the other man still stood in the doorway. "Micah, we'll talk in the morning."

Micah gave a slow nod, his gaze flicking between them. The man did not look pleased. Well, he'd need to get in line behind Liza, and likely whoever Rylan's other mate was.

"Make sure you do," Micah said, his voice carrying a weight that made Liza's stomach twist with unease. Then with one final glance at Liza, he turned and left, the door closing softly behind him.

Liza barely registered it, too consumed by the fire of her anger to care. She swung at Rylan again. Again, he stepped to the side, letting her fist fly past him. She whirled around, frustration boiling over as she threw another punch, but he caught her hand, his grip firm but not painful.

"Liza," he said, his voice low and calm, as if he were trying to soothe a wild animal. "Stop before you hurt yourself."

She couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop. The rage was too much, too overwhelming, and she needed to let it out, needed to make him feel a fraction of the hurt that was tearing her apart inside.

That kiss—it had been the best of her life. It had made her believe. It had made her want to be what he said she was. But it had all been lies.

"Why should I listen to you?" she snapped, trying to wrench her hand free, but his grip didn't falter. "You've been lying to me this whole time!"

Rylan's expression softened, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that made her heart stutter, even in the midst of her anger. "I haven't lied to you, not even once."

She threw another punch, but he deflected it, his movements almost lazy in their precision. She was starting to tire, her muscles burning with the effort, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. She needed to fight, needed to feel like she had some control over this situation.

"Your stance is off," Rylan said, his tone almost conversational, as he caught another one of her punches and guided it away from him. "You're putting too much weight on your front foot. That's why I can see where you're going before you can connect."

"What?" she snapped, glaring at him as she pulled back, her fists still clenched.

"Here," he said, his voice steady and calm, like they were discussing something as simple as the weather. He adjusted his stance, showing her how to position her feet. "If you keep your weight more balanced, you'll be quicker, more unpredictable."

Liza stared at him, her anger flaring even hotter. He was giving her pointers? Now?

It would have been almost sweet if she wasn't so furious. The absurdity of the situation only made her more determined to get one lick in. So she mimicked his stance, adjusting her feet and shifting her weight, and then she threw another punch, aiming for his jaw.

Rylan deflected it again, but this time, there was a glint of approval in his eyes. "Better," he said, his voice low and encouraging. "You're getting there."

She wanted to scream, to rage at him for turning this into some kind of lesson, but the exhaustion was creeping in, making her punches slower, her movements less coordinated. Her breath was coming in short, ragged bursts, her chest heaving with the effort. But she wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.

With one final burst of energy, she threw another punch, putting everything she had into it. But before her fist could connect, Rylan moved. In one swift motion, he caught her wrist and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her in an unbreakable hold.

"Let me go," she gasped, struggling against him, but not as much as she had been. Rylan's body was warm and solid against hers. She felt the heat radiating off him, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he held her tight, his breath warm against her ear.

"I'm never letting you go."

His words washed over her, their meaning sinking in even as she fought to push them away. He wasn't lying. She could feel the truth in his embrace, in the way he held her so close, like he was afraid to lose her. But it was too much, too overwhelming, and she wasn't ready to face it.

"Please," she whispered, her voice breaking as the fight drained out of her. "Just let me go."

Rylan tightened his hold, pressing her closer to him until there was no space between them, until she could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her own.

"Yes, I was engaged to be married," he began, his words calm, almost resigned. Liza felt a fresh surge of anger at his admission.

"You bastard," she hissed, kicking at his shins in a last-ditch effort to break free. But Rylan was quicker, stepping to the side, easily avoiding her foot.

"Listen to me," he urged, his voice carrying a note of desperation now, one that made her hesitate despite herself. "After decades of not finding my mate, I made the decision to have an arranged marriage with a woman from another pack."

Liza paused at the admission, mostly at the sadness in his voice. There was a weight to it, likely the pressure and baggage of years spent searching for something he hadn't found. She heard the exhaustion, the resignation that had led him to that decision. More of the fight drained out of her. But not all of it.

"And you were just going to go through with it? Marry someone you don't love?"

"I was on my way to meet my new bride. Then I saw you. And I knew."

The sincerity in his voice pushed out the last of her anger. The conviction that resonated in every word shook it loose. But she wasn't ready to give in, not yet.

"I came straight for you. I knew the moment I saw you that you were my fated mate, Liza. There was no denying it, no pretending otherwise."

His words were thick with a promise that felt too big, too overwhelming to fully grasp. He was telling the truth. Truth was one thing. Trust was another. The scars from her past held her back, the memories of betrayal and hurt keeping her from fully surrendering to the moment.

"And what about the deal with the other pack? What happens to your pack if you break it off?"

"There will be repercussions," he admitted, his voice tinged with the weight of responsibility. "But there's no way I could go through with it. Not now. Not when I've found you."

Liza closed her eyes. Every fiber of her being was urging her to trust. But it wasn't that easy. Rylan held her as if she were something precious, something he would protect at all costs. And it scared her—scared her how much she wanted to believe him, how much she wanted to trust that this was real.

When she opened her eyes, Rylan was so close, his breath warm against her cheek, his gaze intense and unwavering. He leaned in, the space between them vanishing until his forehead nearly touched hers. It looked like he was going to kiss her. Liza felt utterly helpless to stop it.

Rylan's head dipped closer, his lips brushing against hers with the lightest of touches, a barely there promise of something more. Her breath hitched, her lips parting on instinct. She felt herself sinking into the moment, ready to give in to the connection that crackled between them.

Just as her eyes fluttered shut and she was about to surrender, there was a sharp knock at the door, shattering the fragile bubble of intimacy that had formed around them. Rylan froze, his lips lingering a hair's breadth away from hers, tension thrumming through his body.

But the spell was broken. Liza tried to catch her breath. However, the lingering sensation of his almost-kiss still tingled on her lips.