LOGINThe moment stretched too long.
Too quiet. Too charged. Carolina’s chest rose and fell unevenly as she stared at Xander, her instincts screaming in a language she didn’t understand yet—but her body did. Run. Stay. Fight. Belong. “What is happening?” she whispered, more to herself than to him. Xander didn’t answer right away. His eyes were locked on hers, unblinking, like if he looked away for even a second, she might disappear. “I think…” His voice came out rough. “We found each other too early.” The pain hit without warning. Carolina gasped, her entire body locking as something inside her snapped tight—like a cord pulled too far. Then— It broke. She screamed. Xander felt it too. Not just the shift. Her. Her pain ripped through him like it was his own, doubling him over as a snarl tore from his throat. “Carolina!” But it was too late. Her body hit the ground hard, fingers clawing at the dirt as her spine arched unnaturally. Bones cracked—loud, sharp, unforgiving. Her breath turned into a howl. Not human. Not anymore. Xander tried to fight it. He really did. Future Alpha. Control. Strength. That’s what he’d been trained for his entire life. But none of that mattered when his wolf surged forward with violent force, shredding through every barrier he had. This wasn’t just a first shift. This was instinct taking over. Claiming. Answering. The forest roared with them. Two howls. One bond. Carolina’s world shattered—and reformed. Smell hit first. Then sound. Then something deeper. Awareness. She wasn’t just in her body anymore. She was her body. Her wolf. And her wolf— Felt him. Across the clearing, Xander’s wolf stood tall, massive and unyielding, his presence pressing into everything around him. Dominance rolled off him in waves. Command. Power. But the moment his gaze landed on her— It shifted. Carolina braced herself. Her instincts expected him to advance. To assert dominance. To prove what he was. Instead— He lowered his head. Her wolf stilled. Confused. Alert. Drawn. And then it happened. Not a word. Not a sound. But something deeper than both. A bond. It snapped into place like it had always been there—like it had just been waiting for the right moment to awaken. Mine. The word didn’t come from Xander. It came from everywhere. From the air, from the earth, from the very space between them. Carolina staggered back as the force of it slammed into her. Her wolf didn’t resist. Didn’t question. It answered. Yours. The connection ignited. Hot. Unavoidable. Terrifying. “No!” Carolina’s human voice broke through as she forced the shift back, collapsing onto her knees as her body twisted back into itself. Her skin burned, her lungs screamed, but none of that compared to the bond still blazing between them. “This isn’t real—this isn’t real!” Xander shifted seconds later, far less gracefully than he would have liked. His control was gone. His wolf was still right there, pacing beneath the surface, restless and possessive. “It is,” he said, his voice rough, almost a growl. Carolina shook her head, scrambling back from him. “You don’t understand—” “I understand exactly what this is,” Xander cut in, stepping forward despite himself. Every instinct he had was pulling him toward her. Closer. Closer. “Don’t come any closer!” she snapped, her hand lifting like she could physically stop him. He froze. Not because she had power over him. But because the bond did. Silence crashed between them. Heavy. Shaking. Real. Carolina’s breathing hitched as she pressed a hand to her chest. It was still there. That pull. That connection. “You’re in my head,” she whispered. Xander’s jaw tightened. “You’re in mine too.” That made her look up. Really look at him. And for the first time, fear flickered in her eyes—not of him, but of what this meant. “You’re the Alpha’s son,” she said slowly. Xander didn’t deny it. “That doesn’t change anything.” “It changes everything!” she fired back. “Your mate is supposed to be strong—important—someone who fits into your world!” His expression darkened. “You think you don’t?” “I know I don’t.” The words hit harder than anything else that night. Because part of him—just for a second—heard doubt. Not in her. In what his father would say. In what the pack would think. Xander took another step forward, slower this time. Deliberate. “You felt it,” he said quietly. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.” Carolina’s silence said enough. The bond pulsed again. Stronger now. Like it was rooting itself deeper with every second they acknowledged it. “I’m not ready for this,” she admitted, her voice cracking just slightly. Xander’s expression softened—but only a little. “Neither am I,” he said. A pause. Then, more firmly— “But that doesn’t make it go away.” The first rays of sunlight broke through the trees. Golden. Unforgiving. Revealing. Carolina wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling exposed in a way that had nothing to do with the shift. “What happens now?” she asked. Xander looked toward the horizon, then back at her. “Now?” he said. His voice dropped. “Now the pack finds out their future Alpha just found his mate… before his first official day as a wolf.” Carolina’s stomach twisted. “And your father?” Xander let out a slow breath. “That’s where things get complicated.” The bond tightened again. Not painful. Not gentle. Just there. Permanent. And as the sun rose higher, casting light over a truth neither of them could outrun— They both realized the same thing. This wasn’t just fate. This was going to be a fight.They barely made it from the kitchen to the couch—a miracle, considering Xander’s hands were everywhere, tugging her by the hips and then under her thighs, as if proximity might fuse them into one improbable entity. Glasses swept to the floor and rolled, sightless, across the concrete. Carolina collapsed onto Xander’s lap, her knees already parted to straddle him. The stretch sent a frisson down her legs; she tasted morning on his mouth, coffee and sweet fatigue.They didn’t have words for what they were—owners, lovers, sometimes almost enemies, often allies. For now, she wanted nothing except the addicting, unguarded hunger in his eyes. He peeled her shirt, slow and deliberate, paused at her collarbone to suck a bruise into the notch of her throat. She arched, hands cradling his skull, and guided him lower.When he bit her, she swore—soft, helpless, dizzy—and he laughed into her skin, licking the sting. She wondered if her heart had ever beat this loud, or if his did too, thundering
In the final flush of night, numbed from sleep and the afterburn of laughter, Carolina lay awake and stilled the silence with inhales. Xander slept beside her, half-draped in crumpled foil blankets. He ran cold in the dark, shivered sometimes, and she’d learned to tuck herself around the points of his skeleton, lock him in heat until morning.Their roof went on for meters, open to sky and the stray flies that zipped in off the gardens. Every city was a city of roofs, but Sanctuary’s were mythic—sprawl and patch, makeshift like everything else, but shot through with wild green. From here, she could see a neighbor’s hydro tank, the tangle of tubing glowing blue under its own chemical moon. Mira’s greenhouse, patched wobbly from last year’s hail, huddled on the other side like a glass-walled animal. And beyond it all, the Market, now sleeping off its excess beneath tarps stitched from old parade banners and city flags.Carolina padded, barefoot, to the ledge, careful not to wake Xander,
The next morning, Sanctuary’s core was still a stew of last night’s drone music and clove smoke. Carolina woke knotted around Xander’s thigh, pixels of late sunlight stippled on his ribs, and for a moment, she didn’t know if it was a Tuesday or the end of the world. They weren’t late for anything, because nothing here started on time. She watched his chest rise and fall, the stutter of his dreams smoothing under her palm, and she catalogued the bruise blooming under his jaw—a memory from the night before, her joy still mapped on him like a promise.She waited for regret to slip in, like water through an old roof, but it didn’t. Instead she disentangled herself, found her shirt, and padded barefoot down the prefab hallway toward the kitchen block. The passage was half-lit, smells of burnt soy and battery acid wafting from some distant scuffle. In the eating bay, Mira sat alone with a mug of something black and volatile, scrolling through diagnostics like she could will the city to stay
The day was humid enough to weep. Carolina lay flat on the foam roof of the nursery, fingers splayed to catch the vapor rising off Sanctuary, and the sky pressed down like a wet hand. Over months, she’d learned the rhythm of the city’s nerves—the way tension sailed in like a weather front, thickening the air hours before any real trouble broke. Today had that feel. Dam burst energy with nowhere to go but into everyone’s speech, their gait, the way even the Market’s squawk seemed pitched higher, like something was about to rupture and no one wanted to be the one to name it.From up here, Sanctuary sprawled into its patchwork: the huddle of solar panels, the tatter of green roofs, the artery of skywalks threading old office blocks hacked into communal housing. Xander was somewhere in the jumble, mid-shift at the property desk. Mira was probably still asleep or orchestrating some kind of noon coup in the food commons. Carolina eyed the curls of bluebells strangling the comms tower. Life,
On the fourteenth morning after, Carolina caught herself tracing Xander’s movements without meaning to, counting the ways he’d folded seamlessly into her orbit—cramming himself into the food queue by her side, standing as a backstop when Mira broached a difficult discipline, sinking onto the cold floor with her during stolen surges of exhaustion. They’d let themselves become obvious. The others noticed, but no one in Sanctuary was sentimental enough to tease; love, or its ferocity, was survival in a place so liable to shake you loose and let you fall.The new Market head, a bantam-bright woman named Vee, only lifted an eyebrow at their closeness, then rerouted schedules so Carolina and Xander overlapped more often. “Pair up for perimeter patrol,” she’d said, gaze lingering on a beige, post-trauma blush just peeking above Carolina’s work collar. She made no further comment, which was, Carolina realized, the oddest sort of benediction.Weeks rolled by. The city’s new order vibrated with
On the fourteenth morning after, Carolina caught herself tracing Xander’s movements without meaning to, counting the ways he’d folded seamlessly into her orbit—cramming himself into the food queue by her side, standing as a backstop when Mira broached a difficult discipline, sinking onto the cold floor with her during stolen surges of exhaustion. They’d let themselves become obvious. The others noticed, but no one in Sanctuary was sentimental enough to tease; love, or its ferocity, was survival in a place so liable to shake you loose and let you fall.The new Market head, a bantam-bright woman named Vee, only lifted an eyebrow at their closeness, then rerouted schedules so Carolina and Xander overlapped more often. “Pair up for perimeter patrol,” she’d said, gaze lingering on a beige, post-trauma blush just peeking above Carolina’s work collar. She made no further comment, which was, Carolina realized, the oddest sort of benediction.Weeks rolled by. The city’s new order vibrated with







