Page 24 of Alpha's Promise

Landon's eyes glinted with a knowing look, as if he perceived the tumult of her inner landscape. Then, without warning, the space around him began to shift. A subtle vibration filled the air, a prelude to the spectacle about to unfold. Colors unseen by the human eye danced into existence, swirling around Landon in an ethereal maelstrom.

The air grew heavy, crackling with an energy Dakota could feel deep in her soul. Mist began to rise from the floor, swirling in ghostly tendrils that climbed around Landon like they were alive. It wrapped him in a veil of silver and shadow, obscuring his form until only the outline of his broad shoulders remained. Dakota's breath caught as she watched, her pulse quickening with both awe and a hint of fear.

Dakota watched, entranced, as sound joined the visual cacophony; a low hum akin to the distant rumble of thunder, intertwined with the whistle of wind through desert sage. Electricity crackled, palpable in the atmosphere, charging every molecule between them with the promise of the unknown.

And there, in the center of it all, stood Landon. His body became the eye of the storm, the calm epicenter around which the chaos spun. Dakota could feel the pull of it, the seductive lure of power and danger that emanated from him. It beckoned to something primal within her, awakening a latent dominance that hungered for release.

He moved closer, and the distance between them felt charged with the remnants of the otherworldly storm. As their bodies aligned, the boundaries between human and beast, reality and myth, blurred into insignificance. Only the magnetic connectionthat drew them together remained—a force as ancient and compelling as the call of the wild itself.

The mist churned faster, almost alive as it cloaked his transformation. His bones shifted as muscle and sinew accommodated them in a way that made her want to look away—but she couldn’t. Fur began to cover his skin, a flowing cascade of sable streaked with silver, the colors gleaming even through the swirling mist.

Dakota couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, as the human face she knew disappeared. His features morphed, stretching into a powerful muzzle, sharp teeth glinting as his jaws set with primal strength. His eyes, though remained the same, cutting through the haze to meet hers.

The mist began to dissipate, and Landon stood before her, fully transformed. He was massive, his powerful form sleek and gleaming under the faint light of the morning sun. His fur rippled with every subtle movement, the silver and sable blending like shifting shadows. He was beautiful, terrifying, and undeniably wild.

As he lifted his head, a low growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating through the air around them. Dakota felt it in her bones, a primal sound that spoke of both power and protection. She should have been afraid—any sane person would have been—but as she stared at the wolf before her, she felt something else entirely.

Well…she’d wondered about the meaning of her grandfather’s words and the fairytale Landon had told her. She was still curious—and in shock—but perhaps most importantly, she felt safe. Dakota stood motionless, her breath caught in the wake of the dissipating storm. The air crackled with the remnants of energy that had swirled around Landon, leaving a scent of ozone and wildness that teased her senses. She watched,not with fear but with a relentless fascination, as the man before her seemed to command the very elements themselves.

"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back," she murmured, her voice a mixture of trepidation and tease.

‘Good thing I'm not a cat, then.’She heard Landon’s voice, not coming from the wolf who stood before but in her head. The way he looked at her belied the intensity of his stare, which held her captive more securely than any lasso.

"Oh my god, I can hear you," she said, her voice steady despite the surreal tableau that had unfolded before her.

Landon's eyes, dark pools reflecting a surreal glow, held hers with unwavering intensity.‘Yes,’came the reply, again not from his lips, which remained still, but inside her head, a voice as clear as if he'd spoken aloud.

"Are you... housebroken then?" Dakota couldn't help the wry quirk of her lips as she posed the question, her wit surfacing even amidst the extraordinary.

‘More than most,’the internal voice assured her, tinged with amusement that resonated through her mind.

"Does one need a license for being a shifter?" she continued, her questions revealing the layers of her thoughts, each one peeling back to expose more of her burgeoning wonderment.

‘No licenses, just secrets,’he answered, and there was a depth to his telepathic words that spoke of untold stories and hidden truths.

“How am I hearing you when you’re not actually speaking? I can hear you. It’s your voice in my head.”

‘It’s the link or bond between mates. I didn’t actually think it existed, but I was wrong.’

“Are you immortal?”

‘No. We can shift between our dual selves at will. No moonlight required.’

With each silent answer, the connection between them deepened, a bridge forged of shared confidences and an innate understanding. Dakota found herself ensnared by the paradox of Landon Savage, the man who was also a wolf, and something else entirely—something that beckoned to her own undiscovered nature.

The pull of that realization tugged at her, an undercurrent of desire mingling with the call of the unknown. She stood on the precipice of a world where myths breathed and boundaries were redrawn, and Landon, in all his mysterious glory, was the key to unlocking it all. The room felt smaller somehow, the walls pressing in with the intensity of their encounter, every sense heightened and attuned to the other.

"It’s really you, isn’t it?” Her questions were whispers against the backdrop of their electric connection, her voice barely above the sound of her own racing heart.

‘Who the hell else would I be?’Landon's thoughts as a wolf held the same wry sense of humor that his human self did. His gaze never wavered.‘It is a part of me as much as my human form.’

Dakota's heart pounded in her chest, each thump like a drumbeat echoing through the quiet of the room. The scent of leather from his discarded belt and boots mixed with the wild sage and lavender that drifted through the balcony doors, a heady aroma that anchored her to the man who stood before her, baring not just his body but something far more dangerous—his vulnerability.

‘Is it the book, or is it me that has you so... torn?’Landon’s voice inside her head was teasing yet edged with a raw need that matched the storm brewing inside her.

"Maybe a bit of both," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, betraying the maelstrom of emotions swirling withinher. "But right now, you're the one making it hard to think straight."

‘Then let's not think,’he suggested, closing the distance between them.‘Let's feel,’Landon finished.

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