chapter 7

"Edward." Catherine's eyes gleamed in the moonlight, wide and trembling with disbelief.

His rough fingers fumbled with the ties of her nightgown, and he buried his face against her neck.

Tonight was a full moon, and her sweet scent had sent him into heat.

"Mate with her! Now!" Edward's wolf was clawing at him from the inside, desperate to break free and claim Catherine's body.

Catherine hesitantly wrapped her arms around his neck. Edward didn't pull away.

She pressed her lips together and endured this sudden intimacy in silence, while her wolf let out another joyful howl deep within her.

"Catherine." Her name came out rough and low, and the tenderness in his voice made her dizzy for a moment. It felt like the beginning—back when they'd first fallen in love.

"Yeah," she whispered, smiling despite everything.

She cupped his face in her hands and traced the curve of his ear with her fingertips. This was her mate. Her Edward.

His warm hands came up to cradle her face, nearly swallowing half of it in his palms. The pressure was possessive but strangely gentle, like he didn't know whether to hold her or let her go.

Edward leaned in closer, and Catherine could see every detail—the depths of his pupils, his long lashes, the faint crease of his eyelids.

His lips parted, and his voice came out calm and devastating. "Catherine, why isn't it you who's sick? Why isn't it you who's dying?"

His eyes held no real hatred—just emptiness. Somehow, that cold indifference cut deeper than anger ever could.

He didn't even hate her. He just didn't care.

Catherine closed her eyes, and tears slipped silently down her face.

But Edward, she wasn't going to live much longer either.

She could step aside for him now, vanish from his world forever, and then his days might finally brighten up a bit.

Edward slept soundly right next to her, his breaths coming in deep and even pulls, but Catherine just hugged her knees tight and sat there on the bed, staring into nothing all through the night.

She slipped out of the room before he woke up. He'd only come to her room because he was drunk, and when he realized where he'd slept, he'd be disgusted with himself. After all, he thought she was dirty.

Morning light filtered through the white curtains and spilled across the bed. The man stirred, his arm still draped over his forehead as he opened his eyes.

Bits of last night's mess hung on in his head, but they scattered like fog every time he reached for the details.

He realized he was in Catherine's room. His gaze dropped instinctively to the sheets—no telltale wrinkles or stains from anything going down.

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and walked out. Catherine was in the bathroom, crouched in front of the washing machine and staring blankly as the drum spun around and around.

Footsteps sounded behind her. She scrambled to her feet, but her legs had gone numb and she winced at the pins and needles shooting through them.

A strong hand caught her waist. "Last night..."

Edward stared into her eyes, searching for answers about what had happened.

Catherine smiled at him. "You drank too much. You threw up all over the bed." Her nervous energy betrayed her, and her wolf tail slipped out without her meaning it to.

Edward's lips pressed tight and he pulled his hand back, but his wolf howled with excitement and satisfaction from that brief contact with his mate.

The fragmented memories in his head didn't quite match what Catherine had told him.

He glanced down at his open shirt and thought maybe it was just a dream.

But to dream about Catherine like that...

He hated this feeling of being out of control.

Catherine asked, "Do you want a baguette for breakfast? I can—"

Edward waved her off and masked his inner turmoil with his usual coldness. "I'm going to Werewolf Alliance Hospital to see Jane."

Catherine's smile faltered for just a second, but she hid it well. "Okay. See you later."

Her phone chimed. Catherine looked down, avoiding his gaze, and saw the message—the matching results.

She was a match. She could give her heart to Jane.

Catherine lifted her head and rubbed her stinging nose, then called out to Edward as he turned to leave. "Wait."

Edward stopped and looked back. Catherine stood behind him with a smile that was soft and gentle, almost fragile. Something uneasy gripped his chest—something he couldn't name.

"Just give me a second." She turned and ran upstairs, pulling an elegant navy blue gift box from the cabinet, then rushed back down.

"This is for you." She was breathless, and her abdomen twisted with sharp pain, but she bit down hard on her lip and kept her expression steady. Not a crack showed through.

Inside the box was a tie. Edward glanced at it and said, "This doesn't match the suit I'm wearing today."

Before the attack on Stormclaw Pack, Catherine used to give him ties all the time. Sometimes she'd even fasten them around his neck herself, her fingers careful and gentle. Those deliberately forgotten memories suddenly rushed back and ambushed him.

For some reason, the image of Catherine asking to dissolve their mate bond flashed through his mind, and irritation flared in his chest.

Catherine shook her head. "It's okay. You can wear it some other time."

As she turned to leave, a violent wave of dizziness hit her. The Wolfsbane Syndrone sent sharp, twisting pain through her body, and she nearly collapsed to her knees.

It didn't matter if he never wore it. She'd bought this tie a long time ago. She was giving it to him today because she was afraid she'd never get another chance.