Ezra's POV

Sleep was impossible.

Ezra lay on his back in the darkness, his skin too hot, his heart hammering too loud against his ribs. The mark on his neck—that strange silver symbol—buzzed like electricity trapped beneath his flesh.

He'd kicked off his shirt hours ago, his damp hair curling at his temples. The sheets were tangled around his waist, sticking to his thighs in the humid night air.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rumi. Water streaming off his chest, jaw tight with barely controlled desire, that look in his eyes like he wanted to devour Ezra completely.

Ezra swallowed hard.

"God," he whispered to the empty room. "What are you doing to me?"

He pressed his palm to his chest, trying to will away the tension coiling in his muscles. But his body had other ideas.

His hand drifted lower, sliding beneath the sheets with agonizing slowness. He thought of Rumi's hands on him, that devastating kiss, the low growl that had escaped his throat when Ezra had straddled him in the pool. The way Rumi's muscles had flexed when he'd lost control.

Ezra's breath hitched, his hips lifting slightly, eyes fluttering closed.

He needed him with a desperation that bordered on madness.

But just as he was about to find release, a shadow moved in the corner of his room.

Ezra bolted upright, his hand flying to the lamp switch. Light flooded the room, and his heart nearly stopped.

A massive wolf sat in the corner, silver eyes gleaming with intelligence. She was beautiful and terrifying, her fur shimmering like moonlight.

"Holy shit," Ezra scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Who—what—?"

The wolf tilted her head, completely calm, like she'd witnessed this panic countless times before.

She padded forward on silent paws.

Ezra backed up until his legs hit the bedframe. "Stay back."

Then, without warning, she began to shift.

Not into a person exactly, but into something between—ethereal and glowing, with silver runes traced across translucent skin. Her hair flowed like starlight, and when she spoke, her voice sounded like wind through leaves.

"I am Bella," she said. "Your Guardian."

Ezra's mouth went dry. "My what?"

Bella's eyes narrowed, ancient and knowing. "Your blood is awakening. You are not ready, but the bond has begun. You need protection."

"I have Rumi," Ezra muttered. "Sort of."

Bella's expression darkened.

"The Alpha's son is unstable. Marking you without consent is dangerous. Reckless. But expected from one so untrained."

Ezra blinked. "Wait—he marked me? When?"

"Partially. Unintentionally. But yes. The bond is alive now. It pulses through you both, growing stronger."

Ezra sank onto the bed, his mind reeling. "This is completely insane."

Bella's voice softened slightly. "Do not be afraid of your power, Ezra. It will either destroy or save the world—depending on who touches it first."

And with that cryptic warning, she vanished into smoke.

Later that day…

Cassian found him outside the training fields, leaning against a tree and chewing on a pencil, trying not to lose his mind.

"Rough night?" Cassian asked, his voice like silk over steel.

Ezra scowled. "You're always lurking around."

"I'm observant," Cassian purred, stepping closer. "And I saw you sneak into the pool last night. Alone?"

Ezra's jaw clenched. "What do you want, Cassian?"

Cassian moved closer—not close enough to touch, but enough to make his presence felt. "I just think you should be careful with Rumi. He's not... safe."

"Neither am I," Ezra said flatly.

Cassian's smirk widened. "He's dangerous, Ez. He's killed before. Wolves. People. He lost control once, and someone died for it."

Ezra's pulse skipped. "You're lying."

"Am I?" Cassian's voice was like silk wrapped around a blade. "Maybe he marked you to keep you from leaving. Maybe it's not love. Maybe it's just possession."

Ezra didn't answer, but that night, the thought burrowed under his skin like poison.

Rumi's POV

Rumi stood on the rooftop, wind slashing against his face. Luke's voice echoed in his mind like it always did when he got too still.

You shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have let your wolf taste him.

But Rumi was past guilt. Past pretending. Ezra was under his skin now, in his veins, woven into his future.

And now that Cassian was circling like a predator?

He had to act.

Rumi leaped down from the roof, landing silently, and headed straight for the dorms.

He didn't knock. He walked into Ezra's room like a storm given form.

Ezra sat up, startled. Shirtless. Wide-eyed. Beautiful and furious.

"You can't just barge in here," he snapped.

"I can when you're in danger," Rumi said, his voice dark with barely contained violence. "And Cassian is poison."

Ezra's lips parted. "You were listening?"

"I was watching," Rumi corrected. "Because if he touches you again, I'll rip his tongue out."

Ezra stood, his bare chest gleaming in the lamplight, the tension between them thickening like fog.

"You think you own me now?" he whispered. "Just because you marked me?"

Rumi stalked forward. "No. I think I already did. The second you kissed me back."

Ezra shoved him—hard. "You don't get to control me."

But Rumi didn't move. Didn't flinch. His eyes darkened to black.

"I don't want to control you," he growled. "I want to worship you."

And then they collided.

No hesitation. No holding back. Just raw, desperate need.

Rumi pinned him against the wall. Ezra gasped, and Rumi's mouth was on his throat, hands everywhere—possessive, reverent, starving.

They ground against each other, teeth scraping, breath tangled in shared desperation.

Rumi bit down—just shy of the mark on Ezra's neck.

Ezra moaned, fingers clawing into Rumi's back.

"I hate you," Ezra whispered against his mouth.

"I know," Rumi said, his voice wrecked. "Hate me harder."

And in the next breath, they were lost to the world. Consumed by the fire burning beneath their skin.