Where We Shouldn’t be

The pack house was silent.

Not completely—but quieter than it had any right to be. The kind of quiet that settled after midnight, when even wolves slowed, when the world softened just enough to feel dangerous.

Carolina shouldn’t have been awake.

She definitely shouldn’t have been outside.

And she really shouldn’t have been walking toward the tree line like something was calling her.

But she was.

Barefoot again, like the night everything changed.

The grass was cool beneath her feet, the air crisp against her skin—but none of that grounded her the way it should have.

Because the pull was back.

Stronger.

Deeper.

“You’re going to wear a path out if you keep doing that.”

She stopped instantly.

Didn’t turn.

Didn’t need to.

“Then stop following me,” she said quietly.

A pause.

Then—

“I’m not following you.”

Carolina turned slowly.

Xander stood just beyond the shadows of the trees, like he had been there the whole time.

Waiting.

The bond flared.

Immediate.

Unforgiving.

“You felt it too,” she said.

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

Of course he did.

Neither of them moved at first.

Just stood there, the space between them thick with everything they weren’t saying.

Everything they shouldn’t be doing.

“This is a bad idea,” Carolina said, even as her feet carried her a step closer.

Xander’s gaze dropped briefly—to that step—then back to her eyes.

“Probably.”

Another step.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“You came anyway.”

That stopped her.

Because he was right.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted.

“Neither could I.”

The honesty in his voice made her chest tighten.

They were closer now.

Close enough that she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed slightly at his sides like he was holding himself back from something.

Or someone.

“This… whatever this is,” Carolina said, gesturing faintly between them, “it’s not normal.”

“No,” Xander agreed. “It’s not.”

Silence again.

But it didn’t feel empty.

It felt like something building.

“You should go back,” she said.

He didn’t move.

“You first,” he replied.

Her breath caught.

“That’s not how this works.”

“Seems like nothing about this works the way it’s supposed to.”

She huffed a quiet breath—half frustration, half something else.

Something softer.

“Your father would lose it if he saw this,” she said.

A shadow crossed Xander’s expression.

“Yeah,” he said. “He would.”

“Then why are you still here?”

The question hung between them.

Heavy.

Real.

Xander stepped closer.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

“Because you are.”

That did it.

The pack house was silent.

Not completely—but quieter than it had any right to be. The kind of quiet that settled after midnight, when even wolves slowed, when the world softened just enough to feel dangerous.

Carolina shouldn’t have been awake.

She definitely shouldn’t have been outside.

And she really shouldn’t have been walking toward the tree line like something was calling her.

But she was.

Barefoot again, like the night everything changed.

The grass was cool beneath her feet, the air crisp against her skin—but none of that grounded her the way it should have.

Because the pull was back.

Stronger.

Deeper.

“You’re going to wear a path out if you keep doing that.”

She stopped instantly.

Didn’t turn.

Didn’t need to.

“Then stop following me,” she said quietly.

A pause.

Then—

“I’m not following you.”

Carolina turned slowly.

Xander stood just beyond the shadows of the trees, like he had been there the whole time.

Waiting.

The bond flared.

Immediate.

Unforgiving.

“You felt it too,” she said.

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

Of course he did.

Neither of them moved at first.

Just stood there, the space between them thick with everything they weren’t saying.

Everything they shouldn’t be doing.

“This is a bad idea,” Carolina said, even as her feet carried her a step closer.

Xander’s gaze dropped briefly—to that step—then back to her eyes.

“Probably.”

Another step.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“You came anyway.”

That stopped her.

Because he was right.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted.

“Neither could I.”

The honesty in his voice made her chest tighten.

They were closer now.

Close enough that she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed slightly at his sides like he was holding himself back from something.

Or someone.

“This… whatever this is,” Carolina said, gesturing faintly between them, “it’s not normal.”

“No,” Xander agreed. “It’s not.”

Silence again.

But it didn’t feel empty.

It felt like something building.

“You should go back,” she said.

He didn’t move.

“You first,” he replied.

Her breath caught.

“That’s not how this works.”

“Seems like nothing about this works the way it’s supposed to.”

She huffed a quiet breath—half frustration, half something else.

Something softer.

“Your father would lose it if he saw this,” she said.

A shadow crossed Xander’s expression.

“Yeah,” he said. “He would.”

“Then why are you still here?”

The question hung between them.

Heavy.

Real.

Xander stepped closer.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

“Because you are.”

That did it.

Carolina’s heart slammed against her ribs, the bond surging in response like it had been waiting for that exact answer.

“You’re not making this easier,” she whispered.

“I’m not trying to.”

He was too close now.

Way too close.

Carolina could feel his breath, steady and warm against the cool night air. Every instinct she had was screaming at her to step back—

But her body refused to listen.

“This is exactly what we shouldn’t be doing,” she said.

“Then why does it feel like we should?”

Her breath hitched.

Because it did.

That was the problem.

The bond pulsed again—stronger this time, like it was pulling them together, closing the space inch by inch.

Xander’s hand lifted slightly.

Paused.

Hovered near her arm.

He didn’t touch her.

Not yet.

“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.

Carolina’s fingers curled at her sides.

She should.

She knew she should.

But instead—

“…I can’t.”

That was all it took.

His hand finally brushed against her arm.

Light.

Barely there.

But it sent a sharp, electric jolt through her entire body.

She sucked in a breath.

“Xander…”

Her voice was softer now.

Unsteady.

His gaze dropped—slowly, deliberately—to her lips.

The world seemed to still.

No wind.

No sound.

Nothing but the space between them.

Carolina’s heart raced as she realized—

He wasn’t stepping back.

And neither was she.

The distance closed.

Not all at once.

Not rushed.

Just… inevitable.

She could feel him now.

The heat of him.

The pull of him.

The bond burning bright between them like it was demanding more.

Her breath mingled with his.

This was it.

This was the moment where everything changed.

“Carolina…” he murmured, her name low and rough like it cost him something to say it.

Her eyes fluttered slightly.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

But she didn’t move away.

His forehead almost brushed hers.

Close enough that she could feel the restraint in him—the tension, the control he was barely holding onto.

“Tell me to stop,” he said again.

Her heart pounded.

Her mind screamed at her to pull back.

To think.

To remember everything at stake.

But her wolf—

Her wolf leaned in.

“…I don’t want you to,” she admitted.

The words barely left her lips before everything shifted.

Xander’s control snapped—not completely, but enough.

He closed the distance.

Almost.

Just before their lips met—

He stopped.

Breathing hard.

Eyes locked on hers.

Like it physically hurt him to hold back.

“We can’t,” he said.

Carolina nodded slightly, her breath just as uneven.

“I know.”

Neither of them moved.

Not away.

Not closer.

Just… suspended.

Because stepping back felt just as impossible as giving in.

After a long moment, Xander exhaled slowly and took a single step back.

The absence of him was immediate.

Cold.

Wrong.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he said, though his voice wasn’t nearly as convincing as he wanted it to be.

Carolina let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” she said softly.

“…it kind of does.”

The bond pulsed again.

Quieter now.

But deeper.

Xander held her gaze for one last second.

Then—

He turned.

And disappeared back into the trees.

Carolina stood there long after he was gone.

Her heart still racing.

Her skin still tingling.

Because she knew—

That wasn’t the end of it.

Not even close.

Carolina’s heart slammed against her ribs, the bond surging in response like it had been waiting for that exact answer.

“You’re not making this easier,” she whispered.

“I’m not trying to.”

He was too close now.

Way too close.

Carolina could feel his breath, steady and warm against the cool night air. Every instinct she had was screaming at her to step back—

But her body refused to listen.

“This is exactly what we shouldn’t be doing,” she said.

“Then why does it feel like we should?”

Her breath hitched.

Because it did.

That was the problem.

The bond pulsed again—stronger this time, like it was pulling them together, closing the space inch by inch.

Xander’s hand lifted slightly.

Paused.

Hovered near her arm.

He didn’t touch her.

Not yet.

“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.

Carolina’s fingers curled at her sides.

She should.

She knew she should.

But instead—

“…I can’t.”

That was all it took.

His hand finally brushed against her arm.

Light.

Barely there.

But it sent a sharp, electric jolt through her entire body.

She sucked in a breath.

“Xander…”

Her voice was softer now.

Unsteady.

His gaze dropped—slowly, deliberately—to her lips.

The world seemed to still.

No wind.

No sound.

Nothing but the space between them.

Carolina’s heart raced as she realized—

He wasn’t stepping back.

And neither was she.

The distance closed.

Not all at once.

Not rushed.

Just… inevitable.

She could feel him now.

The heat of him.

The pull of him.

The bond burning bright between them like it was demanding more.

Her breath mingled with his.

This was it.

This was the moment where everything changed.

“Carolina…” he murmured, her name low and rough like it cost him something to say it.

Her eyes fluttered slightly.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

But she didn’t move away.

His forehead almost brushed hers.

Close enough that she could feel the restraint in him—the tension, the control he was barely holding onto.

“Tell me to stop,” he said again.

Her heart pounded.

Her mind screamed at her to pull back.

To think.

To remember everything at stake.

But her wolf—

Her wolf leaned in.

“…I don’t want you to,” she admitted.

The words barely left her lips before everything shifted.

Xander’s control snapped—not completely, but enough.

He closed the distance.

Almost.

Just before their lips met—

He stopped.

Breathing hard.

Eyes locked on hers.

Like it physically hurt him to hold back.

“We can’t,” he said.

Carolina nodded slightly, her breath just as uneven.

“I know.”

Neither of them moved.

Not away.

Not closer.

Just… suspended.

Because stepping back felt just as impossible as giving in.

After a long moment, Xander exhaled slowly and took a single step back.

The absence of him was immediate.

Cold.

Wrong.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he said, though his voice wasn’t nearly as convincing as he wanted it to be.

Carolina let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” she said softly.

“…it kind of does.”

The bond pulsed again.

Quieter now.

But deeper.

Xander held her gaze for one last second.

Then—

He turned.

And disappeared back into the trees.

Carolina stood there long after he was gone.

Her heart still racing.

Her skin still tingling.

Because she knew—

That wasn’t the end of it.

Not even close.