Falling for My Shifter Enemy (Wild & Forbidden Mates #4)

Chapter 4

Chloé

Still reeling from the events of the past twenty-four hours, I retreat to my room after the disastrous pack meeting. From kidnapping to rescue, finding my fated mate to having my biggest secret exposed—it feels like my entire world has been turned upside down. My body aches with leftover tension, and my mind won't stop replaying Theo's expression when he learned I couldn't shift.

After a couple of hours of restless pacing and attempting to distract myself with the few books in the guest room, I need a change of scenery. Somewhere quiet to think that isn't saturated with Theo's scent, which seems to permeate every corner of this apartment. The mate bond pulses with a dull ache, like a bruise being pressed, every time I think about his cold dismissal.

I peek out into the hallway. The building seems eerily quiet—most of the pack must be at work. I haven't run into anyone since the meeting, which is honestly a relief. I don't think I could handle any more judgmental stares right now.

My footsteps echo softly as I explore, looking for a peaceful spot to gather my thoughts. Everything feels precarious, balanced on a knife's edge. I keep wondering if Theo's reaction would have been different if I'd told him myself about my inability to shift. But deep down, I know the truth would have come between us eventually. An Alpha mate who can't shift? It's unheard of.

The weight of uncertainty sits heavy in my chest. What happens now? Will he send me back to my pack? The thought makes my wolf whimper, even though we've barely spent any time together. The mate bond doesn't care about practicality or pack politics—it just wants to be near him, even after his cold rejection.

A muffled sound draws my attention—movement behind a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor. Without thinking, I push it open.

Time stops.

A massive dark brown wolf dominates the center of what looks like a training room. The vast space is filled with mats and equipment, but what hits me first is the scent—beneath the fresh sweat and leather, there's a faint trace of something familiar. Something that makes my heart stutter. It reminds me of Mark, of being trapped, of hands grabbing me in the dark—

The massive wolf turns, and suddenly I'm back there. Back in that cabin, with Mark's cruel laugh echoing off concrete walls. My legs go weak, my vision tunneling as panic claws up my throat. I can't breathe. Can't move. The room spins sickeningly as past and present blur together.

I stumble backward, my shoulder hitting the doorframe hard enough to bruise. My chest feels too tight, each breath a desperate gasp. I'm dimly aware of the wolf shifting—human now, calling my name—but I can't focus through the roaring in my ears.

"Chloé!" The voice seems to come from far away. "Breathe, just breathe. You're safe."

But I'm not safe. I'll never be safe. I can't even shift to protect myself, can't—

Strong hands grasp my shoulders, and somehow through the panic, I register Theo's scent. Pine. Leather. Something wild and powerful that makes my wolf settle slightly, even as my human side continues to spiral.

"Focus on my voice," he commands, his Alpha tone cutting through the fog of fear. "You're here with me. Nothing can hurt you."

I force my eyes open, struggling to pull air into my burning lungs. Theo kneels before me—when did I slide to the floor?—wearing only training shorts, his skin still flushed from the shift. Beads of sweat trace paths down his chest, and the mate bond thrums at his proximity. His hands hover near me, not quite touching, and I see the war in his eyes between the instinct to protect and the fear of making things worse.

"Breathe with me," he says, his voice gentler than I've ever heard it, stripped of its usual Alpha authority. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. That's it. Stay with me, little wolf."

The unexpected tenderness in that last phrase breaks through my panic. I focus on him—on the steady rise and fall of his chest, on the warmth radiating from his skin, on the mate bond humming between us like a lullaby. Each breath becomes easier as reality slowly reasserts itself, the training room coming back into focus around us.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, shame burning in my cheeks. "When I saw you, I just... all I could see was—"

"Don't." His hand finally makes contact, cupping my cheek with a gentleness that seems impossible from hands so strong. The touch sends sparks through the mate bond, a current of electricity that makes my skin buzz. "What Mark did to you... that kind of trauma doesn't just disappear. You have nothing to apologize for."

I lean into his touch without meaning to, drawn by the warmth of his skin and the steady pulse of the mate bond. His thumb brushes away tears I hadn't realized I'd shed, and when our eyes meet, something shifts in the air between us. The walls he usually keeps so firmly in place crumble just enough for me to see past them—to see the concern, the protectiveness, and something deeper that makes my heart stutter in my chest.

Time seems to slow as he leans forward. I feel his breath ghost across my lips, feel the slight tremor in his hand where it still cups my face. The mate bond stretches taut between us, crackling with anticipation. My heart pounds against my ribs, torn between fear and a desperate kind of wanting.

When his lips finally meet mine, it's with a gentleness I never expected from him. The kiss is soft, almost reverent, nothing like the forceful Alpha I've come to know. My hands find his shoulders, fingertips tracing the warm skin there, and I feel him shudder at the contact. The mate bond explodes with sensation, transforming this simple touch into something transcendent—a kaleidoscope of warmth and light and belonging that feels like coming home.

The wolf inside me, the one that can't shift but still exists, rises to meet his, and for the first time in my life, I don't feel broken. I feel whole, complete, as if every moment of weakness and doubt has led me to this single point of perfect understanding.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, he pulls back. I watch the vulnerability in his expression get buried beneath his usual mask, but his eyes remain soft as they meet mine. The rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm tells me he's as affected as I am, the mate bond thrumming with shared desire and confusion.

"I shouldn't have done that," he says roughly, already moving away. But the tremor in his voice betrays him, and the mate bond pulses with an ache we both feel—the need to be closer warring with all the reasons we should stay apart. His scent lingers in the air around me, pine and leather now mixed with something sweeter, more intimate.

I watch him hurry from the room, the heavy door closing behind him with a finality that makes my chest tight. My fingers touch my lips where I can still feel his kiss, the ghost of his touch haunting my skin.