"Lucas!" I call out sharply, shoving against his chest. My heart races, desire coursing through my veins as fear dissipates. He isn't violent. He's just affected by my heat.
And as much as I'd love to have it take over us both, I can't let that happen. I know how it feels to regret decisions made in the moment. I don't want Lucas to feel that way about us.
He blinks, shaking his head as if clearing fog from his mind. Stepping back, he murmurs, "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what came over me."
"It's okay," I say softly. "I think our bond is trying to reassert itself, now that I'm here." It's what makes the most sense in this scenario, anyway.
My bond yearns toward him in my chest, and it's physically painful to not step forward and nuzzle into his chest.
