Zodiac's POV
The moment Gray stepped back into the mansion, I felt it—Capricorn's tension mingling with my own, a storm of conflicting instincts. She moved through the door with a hesitant grace, like a fawn testing the edges of a new forest, and every instinct in me screamed to claim her, to make her feel safe. But restraint, as always, had to come first. My wolf roared against the leash of patience I forced myself to hold, thrumming with the scent of her arousal, her confusion, and the lingering fear from our last encounter.
Capricorn shifted beside me, growling low at my restraint. She's scared of me. You want to fix it? Then stay back until she chooses.
I ignored the warning, though the edge in my gaze softened ever so slightly. She was mine. My mate. And no one—no one—was going to take that away from me. Not circumstances, not her confusion, not the mistakes I had made.
Zoey, as always, was the bridge between chaos and order. She practically bounced around the living room, her energy a bright contrast to the tension that clung to me like smoke. "Spa time!" she announced, sweeping Gray along with a determined grip. "You need to relax, breathe, and let go of all that stress. And Gray, don't worry—I'll make sure no wolves bite anyone today."
I clenched my jaw, forcing Capricorn's growl into a restrained snarl. Zoey's boldness was both aggravating and necessary. Without her, Gray would likely be hiding somewhere, tense and uncertain. With her, she was laughing, animated, starting to reclaim parts of herself I had nearly suffocated with my impatience.
I retreated to the study, pacing. Griffin followed silently, his sharp blue eyes tracking me, noting every subtle shift in my posture. He knew me too well—the barely contained fire, the possessive streak, the anxiety that came from trying to make right what I had wronged. Griffin didn't speak; he didn't need to. His presence alone grounded me, and his wolf, steady and strong, mirrored the control I wished I could muster.
I couldn't stop thinking about the way Gray had looked at me earlier, the fear in her eyes when she met mine in the boutique. It wasn't just fear—it was confusion, hurt, and a flicker of longing. The bond was strong, undeniable, and utterly frustrating. Her heat had caught me off guard; her rejection had burned hotter than any flame I had known. I had no doubt Capricorn's temper had nearly torn me in half during that confrontation, but I also knew she had a point. I had to fix this, but carefully.
I glanced at Griffin, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. She's not going to forgive it overnight, I said mentally, letting the words hang. Griffin's wolf shifted in understanding, a low growl resonating through his chest.
Start small, he suggested. Patience. Let her take the lead.
I gritted my teeth. Patience was not my strong suit, but Griffin was right. Pushing too hard, asserting too much, would only reinforce her fear. I had to earn it back, slowly, piece by piece, action by action.
Meanwhile, Zoey's laughter echoed faintly through the house. Gray's giggle reached me, soft and hesitant, but it was progress. She was smiling again—tentatively, yes, but still smiling. That was the first victory. My wolf purred in quiet approval, while Capricorn's growl was tempered by pride. She's warming up, he admitted reluctantly.
I ran a hand through my dark hair, trying to focus. I couldn't let myself falter again. If I did, I might lose her entirely. She was more than my mate—she was a part of me, a piece of my soul entwined in ways that defied logic. The bond was primal, fierce, and unyielding. I had felt it the moment our paths collided, and I had been too reckless, too impulsive, to respect its power. That would change.
I moved toward the hallway, intending to give Gray a small gesture, a token of reassurance. Something simple—a coffee left at her door, a note, a small trinket to show I wasn't going to vanish into my alpha pride. I wasn't sure if she would see it as manipulation or sincerity, but it was a start. A first step toward rebuilding the bridge I had nearly burned.
The hallway was empty. Gray's room was closed, but I could sense her presence within—Capricorn and I tuned into the subtle rhythms of her wolf, calm but tense, curious but wary. I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the moment press down on me. Every instinct screamed to break down that door, to hold her, to claim her in a way that would both terrify and reassure her. But I didn't. Restraint, again, was the lesson I had to learn.
Instead, I left a small note on her dresser. Just a few words, simple and honest: I'm here. Always. – Z.
I stepped back, listening. Capricorn nudged me with his mental presence, a silent question: Think she'll forgive it?
Not yet, I replied, voice low and rough, almost a growl in my mind. But she'll see I'm trying. That's the start.
Griffin's wolf hummed in agreement. It's all you can do right now.
I left the room quietly, retreating to the study to plan my next move. Zoey's influence was invaluable, but I also needed Gray to see me in a way that didn't terrify her, didn't dominate her, didn't pressure her. She had to feel safe, respected, and, most importantly, wanted—but on her terms.
The hours crawled by. I watched from the study as Gray moved through the house with Zoey, laughter spilling into the halls. Each sound was a dagger of both relief and longing. I wanted to step in, to touch her, to claim her, but restraint held me back, a constant reminder of the line I could not cross. Capricorn snarled lowly, frustrated, but even he recognized the necessity of patience.
Finally, the day drew to a close. Zoey and Gray emerged from the spa, glowing and exhausted, chatting animatedly. Gray's smile was genuine now, not forced, not fleeting. My chest tightened with an emotion I couldn't name—pride, relief, desire, fear—all intermingled in a tangled knot.
Zoey waved cheerfully at me. "See? I told you she'd be fine! She's stronger than she looks."
I nodded, unable to speak immediately, my gaze fixed on Gray. She met my eyes for a brief moment, her pupils dilated, her lips slightly parted, and my wolf growled low in anticipation. But she didn't step forward. She didn't run either. She simply…stood there, taking up space in the world, and in my mind, that was progress.
Tomorrow, I thought, mental note sharpening into focus. Tomorrow, I'll do more. I'll let her see that I can be patient, that I can protect, that I can love without overwhelming her. Step by step, Gray. Step by step.
And in that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the mansion was bathed in twilight, I understood something fundamental. I had claimed her as my mate, but it was not mine alone. She had to claim herself—to trust, to open, to allow herself to be mine. And I would wait, no matter how difficult, no matter how restless my wolf grew, no matter how sharp Capricorn's impatience became. Because she was worth it.
She was worth everything.