Elliot. He could have made the search easy for me. But that wasn't Damien. I ran through the camp, pulling hard on the tug between us, willing it to guide me to him. Every sound seemed sharper tonight. Every shadow . And everyone around a suspect. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I did not do my best to save Damien just to have two overgrown wolves kill him just because he brought me here. "Damien!" I called out, not caring if someone else heard me. If they were capable of helping me find him, I would make sure they helped. I pushed past tents and scattered fires, feeling eyes watching me from inside. Judging. I wasn't safe here. Never had been. I finally spotted him, standing alone near a cluster of trees as the edge of camp. His back was turned, shoulders slumped as he stared into the darkness. He gave no indication that he felt my presence. "Damien!" I staggered to a stop, catching my breath. "We have to go." He turned, his hazel eyes narrowing in confusion. "El
Damien. I had seen Elliot mad at me before, but this... This was a whole other level. I couldn't shake the way he looked at me when I pulled him through the trees and away from camp. His face was tight with anger, his footsteps quick and sharp on the earth. He kept sparing glances at me, as if he was waiting for something I wasn't ready to say. Fucking Markus. Fucking Raph. How dare they? After everything I had done to help, after everything I gave... My wolf stirred within me. Restless. "You're losing him." "I know." I was exhausted at this point. I had been ready to let Elliot go, save him from the danger that came from being my mate. Someone was going to kill him because of me one day. If it hadn't been Zara, then it might be an ambush from the werewolves who hated my guts, or from Asher himself. Whenever he found me. I could feel my wolf pacing within me, frustrated and confused. He had wanted to come out, to fight to keep Elliot alive. But I stopped him.
Elliot.The minute we got to the cabin, I felt like I could breathe again.Though barely.There was no one behind me or by my side who hated my guts just because I was a human. Or worse, a human mated to a werewolf.Questions burned within me, but for once, I didn't see the need to chase answers.I wanted this, just this.Damien and me, standing in my living room, trying to act like everything was... normal.Like we hadn't almost gotten killed by Markus and Raph hours ago.Like Damien hadn't questioned me when I told him we should leave."You hungry?" Damien asked, tossing his shoes by the door."Starving." My voice came out softer than I meant.There was tension between us. Heavy like a coiled spring, ready to snap. I wanted to reach out and close the space between us, but instead, I turned toward the kitchen. I heard Damien's footsteps behind me as I rummaged through the fridge, pretending like I was seriously thinking about what to cook. "Let's see if you can make something that
Elliot.I didn't know who moved first... me or Damien.But as we stood there, staring at each other, all I felt was an ache, sharp and relentless, pulling me closer.Damien’s hand rested on my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin as if he needed the reassurance that I was here, real, and wanting him.I pressed my hand over his, and that simple touch seemed to ignite something within me. I leaned in, unable to resist, my lips finding his in a kiss that was at first hesitant.It didn't matter that we shared a kiss just minutes earlier.This one felt different.His mouth parted, his breath mingling with mine, and every nerve in my body sparked to life.I needed this right now.I needed not to be able to feel. To sense anything.With my hands gripping his shirt, I pulled him closer, clinging to him as if I could anchor myself in the storm of emotions and senses that threatened to swallow me.My new heightened senses had a mind of their own. Switching on and off when I least expected it, like
Elliot.The next morning came in a haze of soft, warm light filtering through the thin curtains.The world outside was quiet, as though it respected the fragile calm that was within me.Damien left earlier.Perhaps to do some light hunting or other werewolf stuff.It gave me time to let my fingers grazed where he had marked me last night. A reminder of the bond we had forged... another reminded that Damien and I were actually mates."One cannot mark someone who is not their mate." A line from the book jumped at me.I was lost in the sensation, the dull ache of the mark that seemed to reach deeper than the skin.My hand lingered there, pressing against the slight swell of soreness when the door opened, and in walked Damien, a wolfish smile tugging at his lips.His eyes drifted immediately to my hand resting on the mark."Does it hurt?" He asked, concern lacing his voice."A little," I admitted, trying not to sound too vulnerable. "But it's... manageable."He sat down on the edge of the
Damien."Two weeks. No more."Frank's truck was actually not what I had expected. It wasn't a beat-up old thing that reeked of stale cigarettes and sweat.There weren't food wrappers and coffee mugs littered around.It was clean. Smelled like lavender with very comfortable seats.Which, in turn, made me very uncomfortable. But the moment Elliot slid into the driver’s seat, his hands curling around the steering wheel, I felt something strange... almost like I was where I was supposed to be.Frank had thrown the keys at him with a hard look, grumping. "Nothing should happen to it, Elliot. And if you dare extend this so-called break with a minute, I'll consider you as good as gone. I'm already hanging by a thread with the last break you took."He'd walked off with barely another word, but I hadn't missed the anger in his eyes when he glanced back at me.After all, I made him give Elliot his truck."Ready?" Elliot’s voice brought me back. He was watching me, eyebrows raised, as if he cou
Damien.The moment we crossed into New York, I could feel the tension building in Elliot.His body had gone rigid beside me, his fingers clenched tightly into the fabric of his jeans.His face was drawn, mouth a thin line as he stared straight ahead, his eyes wide, darting from side to side like he couldn't keep up with everything.“Elliot.” I kept my voice calm, steady. “You okay?”His shoulders twitched, but he didn't answer, his eyes flicking to the blaring car horn, the flashing billboards, the sea of people moving like a torrent down the side walks.It was rush hour, and every sound seemed amplified.I could feel Elliot's pulse racing just by looking at him. "Damien," he finally whispered, voice trembling. "It's… it’s too much. It’s..."His words cut off as a siren blared behind us, and he clamped his hands over his ears, wincing. I watched his face go pale, his eyes glassy as he tried to steady himself.I was so glad we changed positions earlier when he complained of cramps."A
Elliot."Ethan, enough!"The walls here felt like they were closing in on me the moment I heard Ethan’s voice. His eyes, so similar to mine in shade but hardened with something darker, held a glint of satisfaction at catching me off guard and making me lose my marbles.The asshole.I felt Damien's hand under the table, firm on my knee, grounding me. But my heart was already pounding so hard, and my grip on the glass of water tightened as I forced myself to meet my brother’s eyes."I'll meet them when I'm ready." I managed, voice barely above a whisper."When you're ready, huh?" Ethan laughed exactly like he did when we were younger. Mockingly. He drew curious glances from a few tables nearby. "That shouldn't surprise me. It also wouldn't surprise me if you never showed up. That's your specialty."The words sliced through me, unearthing memories I'd tried to bury. Damien's hand tightened on my knee, but it did nothing to soften the impact. My throat had closed up, my mind already spir
Elliot."Elliot, you sly bastard, how dare you spend more than two weeks outside work?" Frank's voice carried across the bustling newsroom, turning more than a few heads my way.A week ago, I thought I wouldn't resume anymore.I could have gotten a new career as an anonymous journalist.I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the heat rise to my face as I approached my office. "Yeah, sorry about that," I replied, offering him what I could only think was my best smile. "And about the truck... I know I kept it longer than I should have. I'll make it up to you, I promise."Frank leaned against the edge of my desk, crossing his arms, with his lips turned downwards in a frown. "Damn right, you will. You owe me like five coffee runs, two lunch shifts, and maybe an afternoon of listening to my new conspiracy theories."I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped my lips. "Add a bottle of whiskey to that, and we've got a deal."That seemed to turn the frown upside down because now Frank was grinni
Damien.I wiped the sweat off my brow as I brought the truck to a stop in front of the cabin. I shifted in the driver’s seat, rolling my shoulders as I glanced out the window.The cabin looked the same as it had since we left three weeks ago, but the air smelled fresher than the one in New York, so that was a relief.Elliot stepped out of the passenger seat without a word, slamming the door shut behind him. I couldn't help but wince at the sound, watching as he strode toward the truck bed to retrieve our bags.Stiff movements, his face set in that familiar expression of quiet frustration that had become the norm for the past week.He hated me now. Without even me telling him the truth."You're welcome for the ride," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. I climbed out of the truck and walked around to the back, grabbing one of the larger duffel bags. "I mean, it's not like I drove us all the way here or anything. Nope, just call me your unpaid chauffeur."No response. Elliot
Elliot.A week later. The trucked sat at the curb, its engine humming a low, steady rhythm that vibrated through the air.I stood a few feet away, hands buried deep in the pockets of my jacket. My breath escaped in faint puffs of white, evaporating into the cold. I kept my eyes on the truck’s worn tires, the rubber slick with mud.Anything to keep me from looking at Damien... or the shop behind me.Celeste had stopped back inside, leaving us alone for the moment. The sign above the store’s floor swung slightly in the breeze, its faint creek matching the ache in my chest.Not like the ache was new.It had been there all week. A dull, relentless reminder of everything that had happened. Ethan hadn't come. He hadn't even called to say goodbye. That was his style, though... never one for messy endings, always leaving gaps where something final should have been. But he had agreed to drop a vague excuse to our parents and sister, a flimsy excuse for my departure. He acted like a jerk, t
Elliot.The first thing I became aware of was pain.Not the sharp, searing kind I was used to from cuts or wounds to my person, but a dull bone deep ache that throbbed with every breath. It was like I was torn apart and stitched back together with a blunt needle and thread.Fucking hell.The second thing was warmth. A steady, grounding presence wrapped around me, holding me tightly but gently, like the world might shatter if it let go."Elliot," a voice murmured. It was low and raw with worry. "Come on, baby. Open your eyes. Please." Damien. That was Damien.He had come into the room the moment I woke up before everything went hazy.I tried to focus, to fight against the cloud covering my mind. My eyelids felt heavy, like they'd been glued shut, but with effort, I managed to pry them open. The faint glow of the room greeted me... okay, I was still in the same room, just with a muted light that still felt sharp against my pounding head."Damien?" My voice cracked, barely more than
Damien."Would using the crystal help neutralize the effect of whatever happened to him?"Celeste’s sharp intake of breath brought me back to the moment. Her hands froze mid-motion, a jar of dried lavender she held slipping from her grasp and shattering against the counter. The sharp scent filled the room instantly, but her wild eyes were locked on mine.The same crystal I had been against using a day ago."You can't be serious." Her voice was barely a whisper, like saying it too loudly might summon something worse.“I am,” I said, my tone firm. “Answer the question.”Her hesitation spoke volumes. The crystal was powerful. It held enough properties to kill a town filled with humans. It would have been enough to dispel a storm killing supernaturals. It wasn't a power used lightly. "You don't fully understand the power from the crystal, Damien," Celeste said with a trembling voice. "It's not meant for this kind of magic. If anything goes wrong...""Things are already wrong!" I barked
Damien.I laid still, Elliot’s warm body pressing against mine in the faint light of the room we shared now.The weight of his arm across my chest was grounding, a reminder of the bond we shared despite the chaos that had unfolded. His fur–covered arm, the claws that had replaced his human nails, and the faint twitch of werewolf instincts betrayed the very thing Elliot had fought against for so long.Monster."You're a monster, Damien."And now, he was one too.How messed up was that?I tilted my head to look at Elliot's face, now softened in slumber. The fur stretched up to his jawline, the transformation incomplete yet painfully evident.The sharp claws occasionally flexed even in sleep, as though his body still wasn't sure if it belonged to a man or beast.But all that didn't matter to me.Whether Elliot... my saviour was human, wolf, or something in between, he was still mine. What ate at me wasn't the fur or claws but the ache in his eyes, the weight of my mate's unspoken fears.
Damien.I heard the front door click shut as Ethan and Celeste ran away like their ass was on fire.Celeste’s probably was.She was lucky Elliot stopped me the moment he did because I would have choked her to death. For even attempting to put me to sleep so she could go along with her twisted plan to use my mate...Even after everything I told her.Selfish bitch. The good thing was that he stood before me now, a shadow of the man I knew, his body covered in fur, his claws flexing at his sides. Yet, all I could see was him.The strength in his stance, the fire in his eyes that refused to be snuffed out. He was beautiful. Even now.Especially now.He looked up at me, his expression a mix of uncertainty and shame. “Damien, I...” "Shh," I murmured, stepping closer. My hands found their way to his face, cupping it gently. His fur was softer than I expected, warm beneath my touch. "You're beautiful, Elliot. Always."He let out a shaky breath, his eyes searching mine. “I’m not. Look at me
Elliot.The storm was gone, but the weight of everything wasn't.My body trembled, the remnants of the wolf’s power still coursing through me like an untamed fire. I could feel its presence coiled in the back of my mind, quieter now, but still there.Watching.Waiting.Celeste and Ryan stood at the cabin door, their expressions a mixture of relief and caution. I ignored them, unable to focus on anything but the lingering sensation of the wolf’s energy in my veins.My claws flexed involuntarily. My fur... God, my fur... was still damp from the rain, clinging to my body in an uncomfortable reminder that I wasn't human anymore.That Celeste had stopped the process of whatever was going on so I could stop a storm that was killing people, apparently.Ruined me."Elliot..." Celeste started. Hesitant.I raised a hand, silencing her. "Not now," I muttered. I didn't want her excuses or explanations.Not after what she had done.My movements were slow and deliberate when I turned and stepped ba
Elliot."Wake Damien up then fix this, or I swear to whatever gods you worship... I'll rip your throat off with my bare hands."Celeste paled, her fingers tightening around the edges of her book as if it could shield her from the weight of my words. Ryan stepped between us again, trying his best to hide the fear from his face.Had something else changed? Apart from the fur and claws?"That's enough," he said, his voice edged with a warning. Like he could do anything to me. "This isn't helping anyone, Elliot."I barked out a bitter laugh, a sound that came out more like a guttural growl. "Not helping? You think this is me being unhelpful? What would you call turning someone into... whatever the hell this is?" I gestured at myself, my claws slicing through the air.Celeste's lips trembled. "I... I thought I could contain the spell. The wolf within you... it's ancient, Elliot. It's more powerful than anything I've ever encountered. It pushed back when I tried to control it. "Control it?