Chapter 7

Michael

It had been nearly three weeks since that first dinner.

Three weeks of stolen evenings, slow walks to her door, shared secrets and small touches that lingered longer than they should have. Michael had never moved this carefully with anyone, but Anna wasn’t just anyone. She was his mate—fated, undeniable—and yet… still human. Still unaware of the world that had already claimed her.

Tonight had been like many others. A casual dinner, warm laughter, Anna’s eyes lighting up when she talked about Ethan’s school art project or the new case she was reviewing for work. It felt normal, but in the kind of way that made it hard for Michael to leave her each night.

And tonight, he almost didn’t.

“Thank you,” she said softly, standing in the glow of the porch light, arms loosely folded. “For being patient with me.”

His hand reached out, brushing her cheek. “I’d wait as long as it takes.”

She smiled, and for a moment, Michael imagined what it would feel like to wake up to that smile every morning. To belong here.

She turned to unlock the door. Inside, he could hear Ethan’s laughter carrying from the living room. A movie was playing. Life was still happening.

She slipped inside with one last glance, and the door clicked shut.

Michael turned toward his car, keys in hand—then stopped.

His instincts didn’t bark. They didn’t roar. They whispered.

And that whisper was enough.

He froze, gaze scanning the quiet neighborhood. Nothing moved. A breeze rustled the bushes. One of the porch lights flickered across the street.

But something was wrong.

He wasn’t alone.

It wasn’t a person—he’d know the difference. This was energy. Watching. Testing. A presence just far enough to avoid detection by human senses—but not his.

Michael slid his phone from his coat pocket and typed with speed and precision.

Michael:

Possible tail. I need silent eyes at Anna’s location. Do not alert or approach. One of you stays until dawn.

David (Beta):

Copy. Rounding up Tier 2. ETA 15.

Michael didn’t get in his car.

Instead, he leaned against the hood and folded his arms across his chest, gaze fixed on the shadows beyond the neighbor’s hedges. His posture looked casual, relaxed. But inside, his wolf was prowling.

He wouldn’t leave her unprotected.

Not when he couldn’t be sure what—or who—was watching.

He could still hear Ethan’s voice faintly through the windows. And Anna… God, she had no idea. She didn’t know that their connection was more than chemistry. That the bond humming beneath his skin was ancient, sacred, unchosen but undeniable.

She didn’t know that Michael had already decided he’d protect her with his life.

Not because she was fragile.

But because she was his.

Ten minutes later, two dark SUVs rolled past the neighborhood slowly, nonchalantly, and disappeared into a side street. A group of three wolves from his inner force—civilian clothes, trained eyes, no insignias—moved like shadows, sweeping the perimeter on foot, staying out of sight.

Michael’s phone buzzed.

David:

Perimeter secured. No heat signatures found. Whoever it was is gone. We’ll cycle coverage tonight. I’m posting Marcus near the back alley—just in case.

Michael replied simply:

Michael:

Good.

He waited another two minutes, scanned the street one last time, then finally slid into the driver’s seat.

But even as he drove away, one thing was certain:

Something had changed.

And the moment it revealed itself—

He’d be ready.

—————

Anna

Anna lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the shadows of the bedroom softly shifting with the passing headlights from the street below.

She hadn’t been able to sleep since she got home.

Not because something was wrong—quite the opposite.

Because everything felt too right.

Michael.

Just thinking his name made something flutter in her chest. A warmth. A pull. Something dangerously close to obsession.

She’d never felt this for anyone—not even Ethan’s father, and that had been a whirlwind by comparison. That had been fire and fast promises and eventual disappointment.

But this…?

This was slower. Deeper. Magnetic in a way she couldn’t explain.

I’m falling for him.

The thought alone should’ve scared her. In truth, it did. But what scared her more was that she didn’t want to stop. Even if she tried, she wasn’t sure she could. Being around him calmed something inside her—and ignited something else entirely.

She didn’t know how it made sense. They’d only known each other a few weeks. But when she was away from him, her thoughts drifted back to his voice, his eyes, the way he looked at her like he already knew her soul. Like he’d already chosen her.

I want to be near him. All the time.

It wasn’t healthy.

It wasn’t rational.

But it was real.

Anna exhaled, trying to shake herself out of the spiral. She rolled over and glanced at her alarm clock.

2:17 a.m.

Her phone was on the nightstand. She resisted the urge to text him.

Just sleep, she told herself. You’re being dramatic.

But just as she closed her eyes again, the memory of something unsettling surfaced.

From earlier tonight.

She had come in from her date, cheeks flushed, stomach still flipping from the way Michael had looked at her before she closed the door. Ethan had been on the couch, waiting up even though it was way past bedtime. Dawn had offered to babysit again, claiming popcorn and Disney+ were calling her name.

Anna had walked in smiling, but Ethan had looked up with wide, serious eyes.

“Mommy,” he whispered, glancing toward the front window. “There are people outside.”

She’d paused, frozen mid-step. “What?”

“I heard them talking,” he said. “They were out there.”

She’d walked over and peered out through the blinds—nothing. Just the porch light buzzing and the empty street. Maybe a cat darting behind a bush. But no voices. No people.

Dawn had called from the bathroom, teasing Ethan about being a “little night owl,” and he’d dropped it quickly. Went back to his blanket and movie like it never happened.

But now, lying here in the dark, Anna couldn’t shake the unease.

He heard something.

Her five-year-old wasn’t the type to make up stories. And it wasn’t like him to be scared—not even during storms.

Was someone actually out there?

She hadn’t told Michael.

She didn’t want to come across as paranoid or dramatic, especially when everything between them was still so new.

But something about it—about Ethan’s eyes when he said it—lingered.

“There are people outside.”

Anna pulled the blanket tighter around her, her eyes flicking toward the window.

She saw nothing.

But for the first time in years…

She didn’t feel alone.