Page 5 of Mated By Midnight

Then she blinked, and the excitement was gone. What replaced it was all human. And the human was all defiance.

“This can’t... we can’t...”

Elijah didn’t give her a chance to finish. Or rather, his wolf didn't. In one swift movement, the beast stepped forward. Elijah watched hands reach out to pull her against him. His grip was firm but not rough. His fingers curled into the fabric of her dress as if anchoring himself to the one thing that made sense in this whirlwind of confusion.

It was her wolf that came to him. He knew because of the soft growl that escaped her perfect lips. Her scent filled his lungs, a mix of wildflowers and rain. The feeling of her body pressed against his made his heart stutter in his chest.

The bond crackled between them, electric and raw, and before either of them could think better of it, Elijah dipped his head and captured her lips in a kiss. Or she lifted up on her toes and lunged for his mouth. He wasn't sure. It didn't matter.

The moment their lips met, everything else fell away.

It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, hungry, fueled by the fire that had been kindling between them since the moment they laid eyes on each other. Which was just moments ago. But it felt like he'd known her forever. Even though he didn't know her name.

Didn't matter. She was his.

Her breath hitched against his mouth. Her hands pressed to his chest, like she would push him away. Instead, she grabbed at his shirt. Her fingers curled into the fabric as if she needed something to hold on to.

Elijah kissed her deeply, his lips moving against hers with a possessiveness that surprised even him. She gave as good as she got. The bond was alive between them, a living, breathing thing that wrapped around their hearts, pulling them closer, tighter. His body responded to hers instinctively, his wolf howling in satisfaction as her resistance crumbled and she melted into him.

4

Celine stumbled over the uneven ground. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but she didn't dare to shift into her wolf form. The thought of being tracked, being hunted by him, fueled her flight. He had been an electric shock to her senses, a call deep within her soul that she fought to ignore.

The clamor of the festival—a celebration of finding love—faded behind her with each frantic step she took into the forest. The trees became denser. The darkness transformed into a cloak she wrapped around herself for protection.

Her dress snagged on branches. The delicate fabric tore, but she paid it no heed. All that mattered was putting distance between herself and the man who threatened to unravel the life she had meticulously planned for herself.

No, she hadn't planned it. Her parents had. But they had the right of it. Choice was safer than waiting for fate.

With that thought in mind, Celine plunged deeper into the woods. Her mind waged war against the instinct screaming inside her to stop. To let herself get caught. To be where the moon swore she was meant to be. But that wasn't the plan.

She was promised to the Alpha. It was meant to be an alliance of power, a partnership that would bring stability totheir pack. Yet the moment she had locked eyes with the stranger, her fated mate, all thoughts of duty had crumbled like ash. His gaze had pierced through her, awakening a deep need that left her trembling.

It was madness, the way her body yearned to turn back, to rush into his arms and seal her fate. She couldn't—not when so much depended on her union with the Alpha. Celine knew the laws of the shifter world well; once bonded with her mate, there would be no turning back, no broken engagements or second chances. The bond—even a chosen one—was eternal, transcendent, and utterly binding.

Her feet carried her farther. Her lungs burned as the cool night air filled them. Twigs snapped underfoot, and her pulse echoed in her ears, drowning out the distant howls of wolves singing to the full moon.

But even as she ran, Celine felt the invisible tether pulling at her heart. The call of the mate bond refused to be ignored. It was a force of nature, as undeniable as the turning of the earth. In the depths of the shadowed woods, she felt its draw. No matter how fast she ran, she couldn't outrun the bond that yoked her to him.

Suddenly, he was there, blocking her path with an intensity that stopped her cold. His eyes, a fierce golden hue, locked on to hers, and the world fell away. The man who was her fated mate stood before her, a predator claiming his ground. Every instinct inside Celine screamed to submit to the inevitable.

"Please," she whispered, but the word was a lie, a feeble protest against the desire that consumed her whole.

He advanced, a quiet power emanating from his stride. When he reached her, his hands cupped her face with surprising gentleness. Her resistance crumbled like ash in a fierce wind. Her hands found his chest, feeling the heat of him through his shirt as their lips met in a kiss that seared her to the core. It was acollision of mouths, a dance of tongues—a passionate surrender to the wildfire spreading through them.

His taste was intoxicating, a heady mix of earth and something wild that made her head spin. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders, needing him closer, needing more.

All thoughts of duty fled her mind. Celine's hands moved with frantic urgency. They slipped down to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with the belt, her movements clumsy with desperation. The metal clinked softly as she managed to unbuckle it, her heart pounding against her ribs.

Her fingers worked the button free, tugged the zipper down, and shoved the denim only halfway down his powerful thighs. And then she felt him—his hard length, hot and insistent against her palm. He wasn't wearing anything beneath those jeans; he'd come commando, a fact that sent a thrill of scandalized excitement racing through her veins.

With a shaky exhale, Celine wrapped her fingers around him, the intimate touch drawing a groan from his lips that echoed in the stillness of the woods. He was velvet steel in her hand, and she reveled in the knowledge that she held her mate's most vulnerable self.

She was just as vulnerable. Celine knew there was no other path for her, no promise that could hold her back from him. She belonged to this man—wholly, completely, irrevocably.

With a surge of strength that sent her senses reeling, he hoisted her into his arms. Celine's legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her dress a mere whisper of fabric between them. His back muscles rippled beneath her touch as he pressed her up against the rough bark of an ancient tree, its history etched deep into the wood like the impending mark of their union.

His lips, demanding and fierce, claimed hers in another deep kiss. Without words, this kiss spoke of feral need and inescapable destiny. There was no room for hesitation or thoughts of consequence; there was only the consuming flame of desire that licked at every inch of her skin.