Page 6 of Falling for My Shifter Enemy

I park the car and turn to Chloé, watching as her eyes widen at the sight of the building. “This is where you’ll be staying,” I say, my voice gruff.

She nods slowly, her gaze still fixed on the pack house. “It’s… different.”

I grunt in response. It is different. Howling Pines isn’t like other packs, and neither am I. This is my world, and now she’s a part of it, whether either of us is ready or not.

I step out of the car and circle around to her side, opening the door for her. As she steps out, her hand brushes against mine, and the bond flares again, a surge of heat pulsing between us. My wolf stirs, satisfied, but I push the feeling down. I can’t afford to let it control me. Not now.

Inside, the pack house is buzzing with activity, but the moment we walk through the doors, all eyes are on us. I can feel the curiosity, the confusion, as my pack members glance between me and Chloé. They’re wondering why I’ve brought a Whispering Pines wolf into our territory, and the questions are already forming in their minds.

“Hey, Theo. Who’s the new girl? She doesn’t look like she’s from around here.”

The voice, dripping with casual arrogance, cuts through the low hum of the pack house. I freeze mid-step, the mate bond flaring hot and possessive inside me. My body tenses instinctively, the primal urge to protect Chloé roaring to life before I can even process it.

I turn slowly, locking eyes with Jackson—a tall, cocky wolf with a perpetual smirk etched on his face. His gaze flickers over Chloé, sizing her up with far too much interest for my liking. My wolfis snarling inside me, pushing against my control, demanding action.

“She’s not your concern,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous. The words slip out before I can stop them, cold and final.

Jackson raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening with amusement. “Easy, Alpha. I was just saying hello.”

The tension in the room thickens, and I can feel Chloé stiffen beside me. She’s trying to keep her composure, but the weight of the attention—the stares from my pack—must be getting to her. My wolf snarls again, louder this time, the mate bond thrumming in my veins. I need to get her out of here, away from their curious eyes, away from the possibility of anyone else approaching her.

I step closer to Chloé, instinctively shielding her with my body. My voice drops even lower, the threat unmistakable. “Back. Off.”

The amusement in Jackson’s eyes flickers, replaced by a flash of something more serious. He nods, backing away slowly, but his smile doesn’t fade completely. “Alright, alright. Message received.”

I don’t spare him another glance. My attention snaps back to Chloé, who’s staring up at me with wide eyes, her breath coming in shallow bursts. The mate bond pulses between us, stronger now, more insistent. My hand twitches at my side, and before I can stop myself, I reach out and grab her hand—rougher than I mean to—but I can’t help it.

“We’re leaving,” I mutter, more to myself than to her.

Without waiting for a response, I pull her toward the elevator at the far end of the room. My grip on her hand is firm, but I can feel her fingers trembling slightly. I don’t look back, don’tacknowledge the stares or the whispers that follow us as we cross the communal space. All that matters now is getting her away from them, from him, from anyone who might think they can lay a claim to her.

The elevator doors slide open, and I usher her inside, the tension rolling off me in waves. The moment the doors close behind us, the silence in the small space becomes deafening. I release her hand, realizing belatedly how tightly I’d been holding it. My jaw clenches as I try to keep my wolf in check, the possessiveness still simmering just beneath the surface.

Chloé takes a step back, her eyes never leaving me. Her breathing is still shallow, but there’s something else there too—something I can’t quite place. Confusion? Fear? No, it’s subtler than that. A wariness. A tension that mirrors my own.

I press the button for the top floor, the elevator lurching into motion.

I should apologize for being rough with her. I should say something, anything to ease the tension between us. But the words won’t come. All I can think about is how close she was to Jackson, how his gaze lingered on her for just a second too long. My wolf growls low in my chest, and I grip the railing of the elevator, trying to keep myself steady.

“I’m sorry,” Chloé’s voice is soft, tentative, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to... cause trouble.”

Her apology catches me off guard. I turn to look at her, my brow furrowing. “You didn’t,” I snap, harsher than I intend. Seeing the startled look in her eyes, I take a breath, forcing my voice to soften. “It’s not your fault.”

She nods, but her expression remains uncertain. The bond between us hums again, the electric connection thrumming just beneath the surface.

I know I should leave her in one of the guest rooms, give her space, give myself space to think. But the thought of her being anywhere but close to me sends a surge of protectiveness through me. My wolf demands that she stay near, that I keep her within reach, where I can protect her, where no one else can touch her.

The elevator slows to a stop, and the doors slide open, revealing the top floor—my personal space. Without thinking, I grab her hand again, gentler this time, and lead her out of the elevator.

The top floor of the pack house is a stark contrast to the industrial feel of the rest of the building. The space is open and modern, with large windows that stretch from floor to ceiling, offering a panoramic view of the moonlit forest that surrounds Howling Pines. The floors are polished concrete, cool underfoot, and the furniture is minimalist—sharp lines and muted tones that scream efficiency over comfort.

A large leather sofa sits in the center of the room, facing a stone fireplace that’s currently unlit. The walls, mostly bare except for a few pieces of abstract art, add to the sense of controlled detachment. It’s not a home, not really. It’s more of a fortress, a place to retreat when the weight of being Alpha becomes too much.

I lead Chloé through the space, my hand still wrapped around hers. Her eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings, but she doesn’t say a word. I can feel her tension, the way she’s trying to process everything that’s happened in the last few hours. Hell, I’m still trying to process it myself.

We stop in front of a door down the hallway, just a few steps from my own room. I open it and gesture for her to enter. “This is where you’ll sleep,” I tell her, my voice still rough around the edges. “It’s safe. You’re right next to me.”

The room is simple—a queen-sized bed with crisp white sheets, a single nightstand, and a large window overlooking the forest. There’s a closet in the corner and a door that leads to an en-suite bathroom. It’s not fancy, but it’s clean and private. And more importantly, it’s close to me.

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