Page 16 of Falling for My Shifter Enemy

I pace the perimeter restlessly, my senses straining for any sign of threat. The moon hangs heavy overhead, casting silver shadows through the trees that dance and shift with every breeze. After fifteen minutes of thorough investigation, the immediate danger seems to have passed, but the fear remains lodged in my throat like a bone I can't swallow.

A familiar scent approaches—pine and gunmetal, touched with age—and I turn to see Derek walking toward me in his human form. His expression is grim but relaxed, his movements steady with the confidence of a seasoned warrior.

"False alarm," he says, his voice low and measured. "Just some hunters passing through. We scared them off before they got too close to our territory."

I shift back to human form, my muscles still coiled with tension, adrenaline making my hands shake slightly. Derek's nostrils flare, and I watch his expression change as he catches Chloé's scent on me—the lingering evidence of our encounter still fresh on my skin.

"Where is she?" he asks quietly, his steel-gray eyes searching my face.

I can't meet his gaze, shame and fear warring in my gut. My silence is answer enough.

Derek sighs heavily, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "You pushed her away again, didn't you?" The disappointment in his voice cuts deeper than anger would have.

"I had to," I growl, but the words taste like ash in my mouth. My fists clench at my sides, nails biting into my palms.

"Did you?" Derek steps closer, his presence solid and unwavering. "Or are you just so scared of losing someone thatyou're willing to lose her before anyone else can take her from you?"

His words hit like a physical blow, making me flinch. "You don't understand—"

"I understand loss better than most, Theo," he cuts me off, his voice sharp but touched with something that might be compassion. "I've buried more friends than I care to count. But living in fear of it? That's not living at all." He pauses, letting the words sink in. "Sometimes the things worth having are worth the risk of losing them."

I clench my jaw so hard it aches, wanting to argue, to defend my choice, but the words won't come. Derek's already turning away, his shoulders set with the weight of his own losses.

"Your choice," he says over his shoulder, his voice softening. "But ask yourself this—what's scarier? The possibility of losing her, or the certainty of never having her at all?"

His words echo in my head as I watch him disappear into the darkness, leaving me alone with the moon, my fears, and the ghost of Chloé's touch still burning on my skin. My wolf whines, a sound of pure misery that matches the hollow ache in my chest. For the first time, I'm not sure which would hurt more—holding on or letting go.

My feet pound against the earth as I race back to where I left Chloé, each step echoing the frantic beat of my heart. The clearing comes into view, bathed in silver moonlight and filled with wolves from both packs—but no Chloé. My steps falter as I scan the area, my wolf's heightened senses straining to catch any trace of her honey-vanilla scent among the mix of pine needles and damp earth.

She's not here.

She should have been here long before me. The clearing was closer to where we... where I left her. The mate bond in my chest constricts painfully, sending waves of anxiety through my body. I shift back to human form, my voice coming out as a growl as I grab the nearest Whispering Pines wolf. "Where's Chloé?"

The wolf—a young female—shakes her head, confusion clouding her features. "I haven't seen her since before the warning howl."

Ice creeps through my veins as my wolf claws at my insides, demanding we find her now. I pace the clearing's edge, leaves crunching beneath my bare feet, my hands clenched into fists so tight my knuckles turn white. Every shadow between the trees could be hiding danger. Every rustle of branches could mask the sound of approaching threats. The mate bond pulses with increasing urgency, a physical ache that spreads through my chest like poison.

The memory of my mother's lifeless body flashes through my mind—the way her skin had gone cold, how small she'd looked lying there. My throat closes up, and suddenly I can't breathe. The forest spins around me as panic claws its way up my spine.

"Spread out," I bark at the nearby wolves, not caring that half of them aren't even my pack. "Find her. Now."

But before anyone can move, a sound catches my attention—branches cracking, leaves crunching under careful footsteps. I whirl toward the noise, my entire body coiled like a spring, the mate bond humming with recognition before I even see her. And there she is, emerging from the darkness like a vision, supporting a limping pack member. Her face is flushed with exertion, wisps of honey-blonde hair falling loose from her bun, but she's alive. She's safe.

The relief that floods through me is so intense it's almost painful, making my knees weak. The mate bond sings with joy, a pure note of completion that resonates through my entire being. But on its heels comes a wave of anger so fierce it steals my breath—anger born from bone-deep terror, from the moments I thought I'd lost her.

"Where the hell were you?" The words tear from my throat, harsh and raw with fear, before I can stop them.

She looks up, startled by my tone, her brown eyes wide behind her glasses. The moonlight catches on her face, highlighting the slight tremble in her lower lip, and in that moment, as our gazes lock across the clearing, the truth hits me like a physical blow.

I was wrong. So terribly, stupidly wrong.

I've been so focused on protecting myself from the pain of losing her that I never realized—I'm already lost. The mate bond pulses between us, strong and sure, and Derek's words echo in my mind. What's scarier? The possibility of losing her, or the certainty of never having her at all?

I stride toward Chloé, my body vibrating with barely contained emotion. The relief of finding her safe wars with the lingering terror of what could have happened, memories of my mother's lifeless body flashing through my mind. The mate bond pulses with each step, drawing me closer even as fear makes my voice sharp. "What the hell were you thinking? I told you to go back. You could've been hurt!"

Her eyes widen behind her glasses at my tone, but then narrow with a defiance that makes my wolf bristle and my heart ache simultaneously. She takes her time helping her injured packmate settle on a fallen log before turning to face me, lifting her chin in that way that both infuriates and captivates me. Thenight air feels thick between us, heavy with unsaid words and the constant pull of our bond.

"I was helping someone who needed it," she says, her voice steady but lined with steel. A hint of hurt flickers beneath her brave facade. "What was I supposed to do, leave them behind?"

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