Knot Beneath the Silver Thorn

I've spent my whole life believing one thing:

Just because fate chooses someone for you doesn't mean you have to choose them back.

I know what it looks like when love becomes an excuse to stay.

I watched my mother hold on to a mate bond long after promises stopped meaning anything. I learned early that wanting someone too much can make leaving feel impossible.

So I built a life where nothing owns me.

Not a place.

Not a man.

And definitely not biology.

Then a storm brings me to Bellweather House in Port Townsend, where I'm supposed to be restoring a century-old collection of botanical journals, not questioning everything I believe about love.

But the storm has damaged more than old paper.

It has split the ancient Silver Thorn growing in the courtyard.

And beneath its broken branches, I meet Theo Bell.

A heritage arborist.

An Alpha.

And, according to every instinct in my body, my fated mate.

I expect possession.

I expect certainty.

I expect him to look at me and believe fate has already given him the right to claim me.

Instead, Theo steps back.

And somehow, that is so much more dangerous.

Because he doesn't chase me.

He doesn't tell me what I should feel.

He doesn't treat my fear like something he needs to fix.

Even when his scent becomes impossible to ignore.

Even when every room feels different after he enters it.

Even when storm-dark nights turn into shared meals, quiet confessions, and moments that feel far too much like belonging.

Even when he finds the nest I never meant to make and refuses to cross the threshold until I ask him to.

Theo wants me.

I know he does.

I can feel it in every carefully controlled touch, every pause before he comes closer, every moment his Alpha instincts tell him to take and he chooses to wait instead.

And the more he gives me the freedom to walk away, the harder it becomes to understand why I keep moving toward him.

Then I kiss him.

And everything gets worse.

Because now I know what his restraint has been hiding.

Hunger.

Mine.

His.

Ours.

The kind that makes my suppressants unreliable and turns every sensible boundary into a question I'm no longer certain how to answer.

But wanting Theo was never supposed to become the real danger.

Trusting him is.

Because somewhere between the rain-soaked walks, the Silver Thorn outside my window, the scent of him lingering on my clothes, and the Alpha who would rather lose me than take a choice that isn't his...

I start wondering whether I've been wrong about the one thing I thought I understood.

Maybe love isn't dangerous because it makes leaving harder.

Maybe the terrifying part is finding someone who leaves the door completely open...

and realizing I'm the one who wants to stay.

My body may have recognized Theo first.

But if I give him my heart, that choice will be mine.