2. Second Deliveries (Clay POV)

The door clicked shut behind me, the weight of Lexi's presence still hanging in the air. I leaned back against the door, exhaling a ragged breath I hadn't known I was holding. My hand closed around the paper bag, right where her fingers had gripped it. Bringing it closer, I inhaled deeply, her scent mingling with the food she'd delivered.

A startling torrent of emotions tore through me. Desire so potent it nearly crippled me, a protectiveness that surged like a storm. Feelings so intense, they were fit for kin, for the pack, for... a mate. But that was the rub, wasn't it? That girl was human, not a werewolf. How could she elicit such a visceral reaction in me?

I moved to the nightstand, tearing the top off the bag, laying it there as if preserving a precious relic. The food remained untouched, its allure dwarfed by the mysterious pull of the woman who'd brought it. That night, I went to bed wrestling with conflicting feelings, but one thought was clear: I needed to see her again.

The sky was still dipped in pre-dawn darkness when I woke. I went through my workout routine, my mind still plagued by the enigma that was Lexi Ray. Compelled to see her again, I pre-ordered from the same restaurant. If you time it right, these apps have a way of giving you the same delivery driver, especially early in the day. My fingers practically flew over the screen, securing the order. Now, all I had to do was wait.

Evening arrived, my senses keenly tuned to every sound from the corridor. I was restless so I started working out again.

When I heard footsteps, I moved silently to the door. Through the peephole, I watched her knock on another door. Luke's door. Anger and confusion over took my senses as I watched him accept the bag she handed over. What game was he playing?

Moments later, she was at my door. "Hello again Clay, your order is—oh, shoot, I think I accidentally gave your order to your neighbor. This is his. Let me just switch them for you."

I reached out, gripping the bag in her hand. "No need, I'll handle it. He did tip you, right?"

Her eyes widened a fraction before she nodded. "Yes, he did."

I also handed her a tip, watching her eyes for any sign of... something. But she simply thanked me and left. Once she was gone, my pent-up agitation found its target. I crossed the hallway in two strides, banging on Luke's door until he opened it, a shit-eating grin on his face.

I pushed past him into his apartment, throwing the bag on his kitchen counter. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Luke feigned innocence. "What am I doing what, exactly?"

"Don't play dumb. Do you think I didn't sense you in the hall last night? You think I don't know you deliberately crossed paths with her after that?"

Luke shrugged, leaning against the counter. "I'll do as I damn well please, Clay. Get over yourself."

"Maybe if you spent half the time you do watching me on something productive, you'd actually move forward in life," I sneered.

Luke's eyes flashed red before returning to their orginal almost black hue. "Well, you spent enough time watching me. I figure I can return the favor."

I took a step closer, my voice dropping to a growl. "Stay the hell away from her, Luke."

Our eyes locked, as we began to circle each other. We were two raging infernos in a high-stakes showdown. The tension sizzled, volatile, and combustible. Our eyes flickered rapidly between human and wolf, flashing hues of brown and gold for me, and black and red for him, signaling just how close we were to losing control.

It was a delicate dance on the knife's edge of self-restraint. The pressure in the room escalated like a ticking time bomb, each second pushing us closer to an explosive climax that neither of us wanted. Realizing the grave risk, I forcefully broke the intense stare, stepping back cautiously.

Both of us knew that if our wolves were unleashed here, in this confined space, the destruction would be catastrophic. Impossible to explain away in the human world. The unspoken acknowledgment of that destructive potential hung heavy between us as I retreated, each step weighed down by the fraught tension that remained.

The torn bag on my nightstand caught my eye as I closed my door. Something significant had begun, something neither Luke nor I could easily escape. And at the heart of it was Lexi, the human girl who had unwittingly stumbled into a world far more complicated than she could imagine.

But one thing was clear... I couldn't let Luke entangle her in whatever twisted game he was planning to play.

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The next day, it was hard to concentrate. Meetings, phone calls, paperwork, all the responsibilities that normally engrossed me now felt like pesky flies buzzing around my head. Lexi’s presence had insinuated itself into my thoughts, causing an unprecedented distraction. Her scent seemed to linger around me, a ghostly imprint teasing my senses.

My father’s words from a recent conversation echoed in my mind: “The longer you refrain from shifting, the more restless you’ll become.”

We Carmichaels are wolves as much as men, and the balance must be maintained, especially when the full moon nears. A primal part of me yearned for the freedom only the shift could provide. Maybe, just maybe, if I gave in to that part of myself, this mental disarray would subside.

Decision made, I found myself driving back to the pack lands. The city skyline grew smaller in my rearview mirror, replaced by the sprawling wilderness that was home. As I got closer, I felt a sense of ease seep into my bones; it was as if the very land called to the wolf inside me.

Parking the car at the edge of our territory, I stepped out, the earthy aroma of the forest filling my lungs. It was time. Removing my clothes and folding them neatly on the car seat, I focused inward, tapping into the dormant yet ever-present part of my soul. My body tensed, preparing for the transformation—a process as natural to me as breathing but no less extraordinary each time it happened.

Skin stretched, bones reconfigured, fur sprouted, all in a moment that was both agony and ecstasy. My field of vision changed, now tinged with the unique clarity of a wolf’s eyes. I had shifted.

I looked down at my paws. My fur was as white as fresh snow, a Carmichael trademark, and my eyes were a dark brown so deep they were almost black. This was me in my most primal form, manifesting ancestral power and natural instinct.

I breathed in deeply, tasting the scents of the forest, each one a distinct note in a complex symphony. But hidden beneath them all was the faintest trace of something—or someone—else. Lexi. She haunted me even here, though the feeling was more bittersweet than unwelcome.

Shaking off the distraction, I darted through the forest. Each leap and bound unleashed a little more of the tension that had been winding tighter and tighter within me. The freedom was intoxicating, like taking a long, satisfying drink after days of thirst.

Yet even as my limbs relished the movement, my mind drifted to the purpose of this trip. My mother. A sagacious alpha female who not only ruled beside my father but also held her own court of wisdom. I needed her insight, perhaps now more than ever.

After a vigorous run and some training—taking down imaginary foes and scaling the steepest hills—I felt somewhat rejuvenated, but still not whole. The unease settled back in as I made my way to where my mother would be. I was an Alpha heir, plagued by doubts and unsettled by a human girl. And that reality would not change, whether in man’s clothing or a wolf’s fur.

I paused at the edge of a clearing, my dark eyes catching sight of my mother. Even as a wolf, I felt a son’s yearning for maternal wisdom. 

With a low whine, I padded softly toward the porch where my mother sat, her gaze serene as she sipped red wine from a crystal glass. She looked up, and her eyes softened. She leaned up to pet my head with a grace that defied her age. I nuzzled against her hand, an unspoken language of affection passing between us.

"Oops," she chuckled as her wine splashed on my white fur. "Hold on a second."

I retreated a few steps, allowing her to fetch a towel from inside. Shifting back to my human form was second nature. Another flexing of muscles, another reconfiguration of bone and tendons. In seconds, I stood upright, grasping the towel she handed me. I wiped the wine off my skin and wrapped the towel around my waist before sitting beside her.

"Mom, how has the pack been lately? Any new developments?" I ventured, my gaze not quite meeting her eyes as I sat down.

"Oh, you know, the usual," she replied, sipping her wine. "We've had a couple of new pups born, so that's always good news. Brings life and energy to the community."

"Ah, that's good to hear," I nodded, fidgeting slightly with the towel wrapped around my waist. "What about the full moon? I assume everything is in place for the ceremony?"

She chuckled, "You know your father. He's always well-prepared for these occasions. It's going to be a significant one since you'll be there."

"Yeah, speaking of that," I said, hesitating a bit, "I was going over some reports on our territory boundaries. It looks like everything is secure?"

My mom set her wine glass on the table, narrowing her eyes at me. "Clay, you're stalling, aren't you? Son, just ask me what you want to ask me."

I sighed deeply, the questions I'd been avoiding now too heavy to keep inside. "Mom, there's this girl—Lexi. She's... different. I can't seem to get her out of my mind, or my senses for that matter. It's like she's seeped into my very core. I can even smell her right now, which I know sounds... fucking bizarre."

"Watch your language, young man," she cautioned, but her eyes were softer, more understanding now. "And honestly, I'm not surprised. I can smell her on you, too."

I looked at her, wide-eyed. "Is it even possible, Mom? To feel this intensely for a human? It feels like she's my... mate."

My mom's expression turned somber. "In your grandparents' generation, it wasn't uncommon at all. My own mother was human. But times have changed, dear. Technology and constant surveillance have made it riskier for our kind to interact with humans. It's a shifting world, and I'm afraid your generation might be the last to have the privilege of living so openly among them."

I clenched my fists. "Not if I have anything to do with it when I'm Alpha."

She smiled, although her eyes were tinged with sadness. "I know you'll do your best, Clay, but it's not just our pack moving in this direction, it's all of them. However, if this girl stirs such strong feelings in you, you should follow your heart. To hell with what the rest of the world thinks."

"Thanks, Mom," I said, relieved yet still somewhat overwhelmed. I'll head over to training now; it'll help me clear my head."

"Good," she nodded. "Your father will be pleased. And you should go back to this girl soon, sweetheart. If you feel this way, she's likely experiencing similar emotions and has no context to understand them."

My mother's words echoed in my mind as I stood up, feeling both validated and burdened. There was so much to consider, but for the first time, I felt like I was walking a path that made sense, even if it was complex.

As I rose, wrapping the towel tighter around my waist, the magnitude of my mother's words echoed in me. Lexi, unknowing as she was, would be grappling with feelings she couldn't understand. And that thought propelled me with a newfound urgency, toward the training grounds for now, but ultimately back to her.

Because if my mother's intuition was correct, and it usually was, Lexi and I were both standing on the precipice of something life-changing. And the only way to understand it was to take the leap. Together.