Malakai POV

This was going to be interesting. She was trapped, and sooner or later, she’d have to come out. I stood with my hands on my hips, waiting for her next move. She had two choices—step out to grab the shirt or make a run for the pack house. Either way, I’d get what I wanted: a glimpse of her bare body.

I had felt her soft curves beneath me when she shifted, but it hadn’t been enough. It only made me crave more. I knew she still saw me as the enemy, as the monster she couldn’t trust, but my thoughts weren’t exactly noble right now. The memory of her against me had already awakened a primal hunger, and I wasn’t about to pretend otherwise.

“I’m going to count to five,” I called out, keeping my voice even and calm. “If you don’t come out by the time I finish counting, I’ll just assume you don’t want the shirt, and I’ll rip it apart.”

“What?!” Camilla’s voice shouted from behind the tree, filled with panic. I smirked a little but tried to keep my face serious.

“One…”

“Malakai!”

“Two…”

“Please, don’t do that!”

“Three, four…”

“Alright, alright!” she finally said.

My smirk grew wider. She had given in, just like I knew she would.

“Alright, what?” I prompted, wanting her to say it clearly. Once she did, there would be no going back.

“I’ll come out,” she whispered.

But even as she said it, she hesitated. I could feel the seconds stretching out, and I sighed. “I can’t see you, Camilla. The count is up. Stop stalling.”

I heard a rustle in the leaves, and then, slowly, she stepped out from behind the tree. First, her head appeared, then her shoulders, and finally, she revealed her entire body. She stood there with one arm wrapped around her chest and the other trying to cover herself, but even so, her beauty took my breath away.

The moonlight made her skin glow, shimmering like something truly magical.

“Now just toss the shirt over,” she said, her voice a bit shaky. She was nervous, and I couldn’t blame her. It was the first time she was standing in front of me like this, completely exposed.

I let my eyes wander down her figure, trying to memorize every little detail. The soft curves of her breasts, the beautiful shape of her waist, and the line of hair leading to her most private area—I had to hold myself back from stepping closer. My fingers itched to reach out and touch her.

“Throw it,” she repeated, her voice a bit stronger this time.

I raised an eyebrow, playing with her. “Throw it?”

“Yes. I did what you wanted, now just give me the shirt!”

She was trying to keep control of the situation, but I wasn’t going to let her win so easily. I enjoyed seeing her like this—confident yet nervous, ready to stand up for herself.

Without warning, I stepped forward.

Her eyes widened in alarm. “W-what are you doing?”

I shrugged. “Delivering your shirt.”

“No! You don’t have to do that—stay right there!” She tightened her arms around herself, as if I were a beast about to pounce.

I smirked but didn’t stop. “I said I’d give you my shirt, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. How I do it? That’s my choice.”

Her lips parted, ready to argue, but then she seemed to realize it was pointless. I had already won. She let out a sigh of frustration.

I held the shirt out to her, waiting for her to take it. Just as she reached for it, I pulled back slightly.

“Oh, maybe you need pants too,” I mused.

“I don’t need pants,” she snapped, exasperation clear in her voice.

I chuckled, knowing exactly how to push her buttons. “You sure? You wouldn’t want someone else getting ideas, would you?”

Her gaze flickered downward, landing on the very obvious effect she was having on me. Her cheeks burned red, and she quickly averted her eyes.

Taking advantage of her flustered state, she snatched the shirt from my hands. Or maybe I let her. Either way, I enjoyed every second of her reaction.

“You should put on some clothes too,” she muttered, slipping the fabric over her head. “Walking around naked in my territory? People might think you’re a pervert.”

I smirked, not missing how my shirt barely reached past her thighs. It left just enough for my imagination to fill in the gaps.

“Lucky for me, there’s no one else around. No one to call me names but you,” I teased. “And besides, mates can’t be perverts, right? What’s mine is yours, and vice versa.”

She cleared her throat, clearly struggling to keep her composure. “Whatever,” she grumbled, turning on her heel.

I watched her walk away, taking my time before following behind. Purposefully, I let her stay a few paces ahead, just so I could admire the way my shirt barely covered her.

After a few minutes of silence, I finally spoke. “Happy birthday, Camilla.”

She didn’t respond, but I didn’t stop. “I’m glad the goddess chose you for me.”

“I’m not,” she shot back, her voice flat and unwavering.

The coldness of her words struck like a blade to my chest. I clenched my jaw, swallowing down the sting of rejection. But I wasn’t giving up. She was mine, and I would do whatever it took to win her heart.

We continued in silence, my mind racing with ways to break through the wall she had built between us. Then, suddenly, she stumbled. Her balance wavered, and before she could hit the ground, I surged forward, catching her in my arms.

“What are you doing?!” she shrieked, struggling in my grip.

Holding her close, I murmured, “Keeping you from falling.”

And maybe, just maybe, hoping she'd realize that I’d always be there to catch her—whether she wanted me to or not.