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.The return to the house was a wet blur. They let the darkness muffle their footfalls and pretended not to notice the twin beams of porchlights tracking them over the marshy lawn. Xander’s shoulders dripped, a fresh stripe of mud painting his cheek. Carolina caught the turn of his jaw, the way he kept glancing at her as if to confirm she was real, still tethered to his side. It made her feel less like a person and more like a crisis he’d learned to nurse. The foyer was empty, except for a pair of discarded boots and the echo of a door closing somewhere above. They shed their coats in a heap, careful not to touch, but then Xander’s hand found her wrist and, as if remembering itself, held there. It was nothing like the first time. That had been reckless, gritted-teeth and bruised lips, an animal need that didn’t apologize or linger. But now there was a hush to the world, a deliberate pause, like the space between lightning and thunder. Xander’s
A week of sullen rain soaked the world to sponginess. By the time the next evening with even a hint of clear sky arrived, the whole crew was ready to throttle one another purely from boredom. But Carolina had a plan and, improbably, so did Xander. They met in the blue hour outside the derelict greenhouse, where steam from the boilers curled around shattered windowpanes like something alive. He brought her a thermos, black coffee diluted with something caramel-sweet, and she clinked her mug against his, because if you didn’t toast to survival, what was the point. After dinner, instead of the usual shuffle back to bunks, Carolina led Xander up the trails, through the slick branches and deadfall, up a slope that overlooked the valley. “Date night,” she said, voice bright and hard, like she’d rehearsed this. A picnic, but without the kitsch—just a battered blanket and two packs of peanut butter crackers. She’d pilfered a bar of chocolate from the dry goods, too, which mad
The first day after was always the worst. The way every look sideways had a question folded into it—How long have you been hiding this? What will you do now? She let each stare slide off her as she crossed the muddy lot, Xander at her side, the two of them a gravity well for gossip. She was not unused to attention; she just hated the kind that involved her feelings.The training field was a wet sprawl of grass, cordoned off by battered fencing and the odd, half-collapsed barricade. Most of the others were already assembled, their breath rising in steamy clouds, half-listening to Hayden’s attempt at a pep talk while they passed a dented thermos around. Carolina caught the drift of cinnamon and remembered, faintly, the last time she’d let herself want something as basic as comfort.Hayden’s voice broke over the field: “—and that’s why if you aren’t at least pretending to care today, someone’s going to get their ass handed to them.” She glanced up, spotted Carolina and Xander, and someho
The morning pressed its way in through the window—a clear, pale slab of light slicing the room in half and falling directly across Carolina’s face. It was the shift in temperature, more than the brightness, that woke her: the air had that cool, dusty feeling that made her want to burrow in. Instead, she blinked against the glow, feeling the weight of the blankets, the heat of the body curled against her spine.Xander had not, apparently, moved at all since last night. He was still bracing her in place, chin tucked between her shoulder and neck, arm a heavy bar around her middle. Sometime in the night, she’d shifted that arm higher, so her hand rested atop his. She let herself hold still, breathing in the scent of him—a little woodsmoke, a little sweat, all wolf and summer.If she stayed like this, she could almost forget why sleep had been so necessary. That the world outside was already spinning up, waiting for her to step back into it. That the shrapnel of what had happened yesterda
“—insane,” she finished, blinking at him. “That was—” Xander braced a hand near her head, looking at once predatory and oddly vulnerable, like the wolf and the man still hadn’t decided who was in charge. He kept himself close, his breath cool and shivering against her skin. “That was?” he prompted, a hint of teasing behind the gruffness. Carolina shook her head, dazed. “I have no words.” He grinned in a way that made her want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “Good. Because if you’re out of words, you’ll listen for once.” She snorted. “Unlikely.” But she didn’t protest when he pulled her against him again, his mouth finding the hollow just below her ear, then the corner of her jaw. It was softer now, as if the rough edge had burned away. When their eyes met, she felt the full weight of him—wanting, watching, almost afraid. “Say it’s not too much,” he said, voice low. She stared at him, her thumb tracing the line of his collarbone. “It’s not enough.” Xander’s expression w
His hand left her waist and, with a slow, deliberate slide, tangled in the hem of her shirt. He paused just long enough for her to inhale—a single, tight breath—before he lifted the thin fabric. His palm flattened, grazing up her side, the contact electric in the hush of the room.Carolina arched toward him. His touch was tentative for just an instant—an old habit of restraint—then grew bolder, thumb sweeping beneath the curve of her breast. She shivered.“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered, the words barely shaping the air.She shook her head, voice silent, body answering for her. His hand found her breast, fingers spreading, the heat of his palm striking through the thin cotton. She exhaled—shaky, unguarded—when his thumb brushed the nipple, slow and gentle at first, then pinching just enough to draw a quiet gasp from her throat. The sound seemed to undo him. He bent to kiss the side of her neck, grazing the soft skin just below her jaw with his teeth, not quite biting, t







