Her anger intensified, fueled by the vulnerability of her tears. "Help? I don't need your help. I don't even know you!" She stormed off, her threat lingering in the night air. "If you ever come after me again, I'll make sure you regret it."

I stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of her anger hanging heavily in the air. The quiet woods, witness to our tumultuous encounter, seemed to sigh with the weight of the unspoken tension.

In the aftermath of that night, I couldn't shake the feeling of having unintentionally invaded her private moment. The bond between mates, destined by the moon herself, was supposed to be...