All Chapters of The Wolf Who Shouldn’t Love: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The Web of Shadows ••• The Dominion awoke under a sky heavy with bruised violet and amber, a soft fog curling between the gnarled trunks of ancient trees. Even at dawn, the forest seemed restless, each leaf quivering as if whispering secrets of imminent peril. Aella walked through the mist, the soft brush of moss underfoot grounding her, but it did little to calm the thrum of anxiety in her chest. Every heartbeat resonated through the Heartwood, a living pulse beneath the forest floor that mirrored the rapid beat of her own heart. Danger was never far; the Red Fang’s recent incursions had proven that clearly. And yet, beneath the urgency, a different fire kindled a heat that had little to do with the battles they faced. Thalen emerged from the tree line, his silhouette commanding and unyielding against the muted light of morning. Golden eyes scanned the horizon with razor sharp precision, every movement a predator’s, every gesture deliberate. But even as he surveyed the territor

Forbidden Fires ••• The forest beyond the northern ridge lay in a fragile calm. Mist curled between ancient oaks, the moonlight seeping through the canopy in silver threads that danced across moss and roots. Aella walked beside Thalen, her palms brushing along the Heartwood’s energy beneath the bark, the pulse of the forest reflecting the hammering of her own heart. Their victory against the Red Fang had left adrenaline still coiling through their veins, heat lingering from the intensity of battle, but there had been no time, no space, to acknowledge the fire that had grown between them. Thalen’s golden eyes never left hers. Every step he took was measured, predator and protector intertwined, radiating dominance tempered by an unmistakable hunger. The Alpha’s presence wrapped around her like a physical weight, each brush of his hand against hers, each near collision of shoulders, sending sparks of raw, forbidden desire coursing through her. “You’re restless,” he murmured, low,

The Fractured Dominion ••• The first light of dawn barely pierced the dense canopy of the Dominion. Mist clung to the ground like a ghostly blanket, curling around the gnarled roots and thick trunks of ancient trees. The air was damp with the lingering scent of battle blood, sweat, and the subtle metallic tang of silver energy that still hummed faintly from Aella’s hands. Aella crouched at the edge of the ridge, palms glowing softly as the Heartwood pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. Her mind raced with fragments of the previous night… the intensity of the battle, the rush of coordinating defenses alongside Thalen, the electric heat of his hands brushing hers, his lips brushing hers for fleeting, forbidden moments. Even now, the memory made her pulse spike, the danger and the desire entwining in ways that left her breathless. Thalen emerged from the mist, his massive frame cutting a striking figure against the muted green and grey of the forest. He moved with the effortless

The Edge of Shadows ••• The first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy of the Dominion, painting the forest in muted golds and greens. Mist lingered over the undergrowth, curling around tree trunks like living smoke, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and the faint tang of magic still lingering from the previous night’s battle. The Dominion had survived, but the peace was brittle, like the thin veneer of ice over a rushing stream. Aella moved silently among the trees, her bare feet brushing against moss and fallen leaves making her feet feel cold yet somehow home. Her palms glowed faintly with silver light, the Heartwood’s pulse echoing in her chest like a second heartbeat. She had spent the night in restless vigilance, eyes closed, attuned to the subtle tremors of the forest, listening for signs of movement— both friend and foe. Even in the calm, she could feel it the Dominion’s enemies were regrouping. Their treachery had not ended with the Red Fang’s initial ass

The Things He Tried Not to Feel ••• The sky over the Ironwood Peaks had not yet decided whether it wanted to remain night or surrender to dawn. A dim, silver haze clung to the treetops, softening their jagged silhouettes as if the world itself was holding its breath. Somewhere in the distance, faint howls echoed— wolves on early patrol, restless, unsettled, sensing the tension lingering in the wind. Aella walked alone along the forest ridge, her steps slow, almost hesitant. The chill of the morning brushed her arms, but it wasn’t the cold that made her shiver. It was the weight of everything left unsaid between her and Thalen. The events from the last mission clung to her like dew on her lashes— his arm catching her as she fell, the desperate look in his eyes when he thought he’d lost her, the way his breathing had hitched when she whispered that she was fine. And that moment afterward… when they stood far too close, her hand accidentally brushing his chest, his scent deep in her