Page 12 of Falling for My Shifter Enemy

The silence that follows is deafening.

"Maybe she's better off going back," I whisper to the empty room, but the words ring hollow. My hands grip the edge of my desk until my knuckles turn white, the truth I've been fighting finally breaking through.

I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

The morning sun continues its slow crawl across my office, indifferent to the way my world has just shattered. The mate bond aches with each breath, a constant reminder of what I've thrown away. Of what I've lost.

My wolf's anguished howl echoes through my mind, mourning what we both know we'll never have again.

Chapter 6

Chloé

The familiar scent of pine and earth fills my lungs as I step out of Ryan's car, back on Whispering Pines territory. Home. The word feels hollow now, tainted by the constant ache in my chest where the mate bond pulses like an open wound. Each breath brings a fresh wave of longing, pulling me northward toward Howling Pines territory. Toward him.

"Welcome back," Ryan says softly, his hand squeezing my shoulder. His touch carries the weight of pack bonds and childhood friendship, but even that feels different now. Changed. Like everything else since Theo. The Alpha energy that radiates from him—once so comforting—feels almost foreign against my skin.

"Thanks for coming to get me yourself," I manage, forcing myself to meet his concerned gaze. My voice sounds strange to my own ears, like it belongs to someone else. "You didn't have to."

"Of course I did." Ryan's eyes search my face, and I see the questions he's holding back, feel them pressing against the edges of our pack bond. "You're pack, Chloé. And after what happened with Mark..."

Pack members emerge from the main house, their faces a mix of relief and barely concealed curiosity. I accept their hugs andwelcome-backs with practiced grace. But beneath each embrace, each concerned look, I feel the weight of what they don't know—that their submissive packmate is mated to their rival Alpha.

Or rather, rejected by him. The thought sends another pulse of pain through the bond, sharp enough to make me wince.

"You had us worried sick," Sarah, one of the younger wolves, says as she pulls back from a hug. Her nose twitches slightly, and I watch as her eyes widen almost imperceptibly. She can smell him on me—the distinct scent of pine, leather, and raw power that clings to my skin like a brand. "When we heard Theo Waverly had you—"

"It wasn't like that," I cut in, perhaps too sharply. The mere mention of his name sends a jolt through the bond, like touching a live wire. My hands tremble slightly, and I clench them into fists. "He protected me from Mark. That's all."

Ryan's eyes narrow slightly at my tone, and I feel his Alpha energy brush against my consciousness—gentle, questioning. Like fingers probing a wound to assess its depth. But he doesn't push. Instead, he guides me toward the house, falling easily into his role as protective Alpha. "You should rest. We can talk about everything tomorrow."

But rest doesn't come. I lie awake in my bed, staring at the familiar ceiling of my room, feeling anything but at home. The mate bond tugs insistently, like an invisible thread stitched through my heart, pulling me toward the north. The moon, not yet full but growing stronger each night, seems to amplify the connection.

Alpha,my wolf whimpers, curling tighter within me.We need him. Why are we so far from him?

Every time I close my eyes, I see his face—the way he looked at me in his office, torn between desire and duty. The way his voice broke when he rejected me. The memory burns like acid in my chest, and my wolf keens mournfully, her pain mingling with my own.

The next few days pass in a blur of concerned looks and whispered conversations that stop when I enter a room. The pack house feels smaller somehow, more confining, as if the walls themselves are closing in around me.

I throw myself into my writing, trying to lose myself in fictional worlds where mates don't reject each other and submissive wolves aren't seen as weak. But even my characters betray me, taking on amber eyes and speaking in deep, gravelly voices that echo through my dreams. The words I type blur together, every story turning into our story—the one that ended before it truly began.

It's Zoe who finally breaks through my self-imposed isolation, barging into my room with two steaming cups of coffee and determination written across her face. The scent of hazelnut and vanilla—my favorite—fills the air, momentarily drowning out the constant pine-and-leather scent that haunts me.

"Okay, spill," she demands, settling cross-legged on my bed. Her long dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and her eyes—warm and familiar—hold nothing but concern. The bed dips under her weight. "What really happened with Theo?"

I wrap my hands around the warm mug, avoiding her eyes. The ceramic burns against my palms, but the pain is almost welcome—a distraction from the constant ache of the bond. "Nothing happened."

"Bullshit." She leans forward, her expression softening. "Something's different. You're different.”

The dam breaks. Words pour out of me—the kidnapping, the rescue, the way Theo's presence seemed to fill every room. The mate bond, humming between us like a living thing. The rejection that felt like having my heart carved out of my chest. As I speak, the bond pulses with each memory, as if responding to the sound of his name on my lips. My coffee grows cold, forgotten in my trembling hands.

"He rejected you?" Zoe's voice turns sharp, protective anger flashing in her eyes. "That arrogant, self-righteous—"

"Don't." The word comes out sharper than intended, and the mate bond flares in response, sending a wave of possessive energy through my body. Even now, even after everything, I can't bear to hear him criticized. My hands clench around the mug so tightly I'm afraid it might shatter. "He thought he was protecting me."

"From what? His own prejudice?" Zoe shakes her head, her coffee forgotten on my nightstand. "The full moon run is coming up. I heard Ryan talking—both packs will be running together this year because of the human threat."

My heart stutters. "What?"

---