DRAVEN'S POV.
My breath faltered.
"No," I snarled. "It's impossible."
Zayn met my eyes. "Draven. Your wolf has already chosen her."
A low rumble tore from my chest, I wasn't angry at him, but at the truth.
Zayn stepped closer. "You need to decide what happens next."
"What happens," I said through my teeth, "is that nothing happens. I will not touch her. I will not claim her. I will not risk her life."
"And if the wolf keeps pushing?"
I didn't answer. Because I didn't know.
Sometimes the wolf and I shared instinct, but sometimes instinct became compulsion. And compulsion became destiny. And destiny didn't care who died in the process.
Zayn said carefully, "If she really is your mate, even the threat of losing her could break you."
"She doesn't belong here. She shouldn't be here."
"But she is," he said. "And you can't ignore her forever."
He wasn't warning me. He was telling me the future — the one I was already sprinting toward.
