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

Chapter 5

Theo

I hate pack dinners.

Even before Chloé, they were an exercise in dominance displays and political maneuvering disguised as casual conversation. Now, with her sitting beside me, her scent mixing with the aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread, it's pure torture.

The mate bond pulses between us like a living wire, making me hyper aware of every small movement Chloé makes beside me. The slight shift of her leg beneath the table sends electricity crackling through my veins. Her scent—honey and rain—mingles with the aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread until I can barely focus on anything else.

I watch from the head of the table as she pushes food around her plate without really eating, her eyes downcast to avoid the hostile stares from my pack members. The slight tremor in her hands makes my wolf bristle with the need to protect, to comfort, to claim—instincts I ruthlessly suppress. The memory of my mother's broken body flashes through my mind, a stark reminder of what happens when you let love make you weak.

"So, Alpha," Maya's voice cuts through my thoughts, dripping with false sweetness. "What's the plan for the full moon run? Moonlit Ridge is getting pretty crowded these days."

I force myself to focus on the conversation, even as my body remains traitorously attuned to Chloé's every breath. "The humans are becoming a problem," I acknowledge, my voice steady despite the tension coiling in my gut. "We'll need to be more careful this time."

"Maybe we should show them exactly why they shouldn't mess with wolf territory," Liam suggests, his young face alight with poorly concealed aggression. The newest addition to my pack, having recently defected from Whispering Pines, is still eager to prove himself.

"And risk exposure?" Derek's calm voice cuts through the murmur of agreement that follows Liam's suggestion. My Beta sits near the other end of the table, his presence a steady counterbalance to the younger wolves' bloodlust. "That would bring more attention, not less."

I feel Chloé tense beside me, her anxiety bleeding through the bond. The mention of humans has her heart racing—another reminder of her vulnerability. My fingers itch to reach for her, to offer comfort, but I clench them around my fork instead. The metal groans beneath my grip.

"What do you think about all this?" Maya asks, her attention suddenly fixed on Chloé. "About running with the pack? Oh wait..." Her smile shows too many teeth. "I forgot. You can't."

The dining room goes deadly quiet. Through the bond, I feel Chloé's hurt and humiliation spike, sharp enough to make my wolf snarl. But before I can respond, she surprises me.

"You're right, I can't shift," she says, her voice soft but steady. The quiet strength in her tone makes something in my chest constrict painfully. "But that doesn't mean I don't understand the importance of protecting pack territory."

"Understanding isn't the same as being useful," Liam chimes in, clearly emboldened by Maya's attack. "What happens when we need everyone at full strength? When every wolf counts?"

The fork in my hand finally snaps. The sound of breaking metal echoes through the suddenly silent room. Chloé jumps slightly, her thigh pressing against mine beneath the table. The contact sends fire racing through my veins, the mate bond singing with a need so fierce it steals my breath.

"That's enough," Derek says, his tone brooking no argument despite his subordinate status. His eyes meet mine across the table, and I see the warning there. I'm letting my control slip.

But how can I maintain control when every fiber of my being screams to defend her, to pull her close, to show everyone that she's mine? The rational part of my brain knows she's vulnerable, knows she's a liability—just like my mother was. But my wolf doesn't care about rationality. It only knows that she's our mate, and she's hurting.

The rest of the meal passes in strained silence, broken only by the clink of silverware and occasional murmured requests to pass dishes. I'm acutely aware of every small movement Chloé makes, every subtle shift that brings her closer to or further from me. The mate bond throbs like an open wound, making each breath a struggle between wanting to pull her closer and needing to push her away.

Later, after everyone has filed out, I remain at the table, staring at my half-empty plate. Chloé's scent lingers in the air, a constant reminder of everything I want but can't have. My skin feels too tight, my wolf pacing restlessly beneath the surface, demanding I go to her. Claim her. Protect her.

But I can't shake the image of my mother, broken and bloody in the snow. I can't forget how helpless I felt, watching her die because she couldn't defend herself. The thought of history repeating itself with Chloé makes me physically ill.

The upcoming full moon looms like a storm on the horizon. Moonlit Ridge isn't safe anymore, but neither is the growing divide in my pack. And Chloé... Chloé is the match threatening to ignite it all.

I push away from the table, my chair scraping against the hardwood floor. The sound echoes in the empty room like an accusation. Every step away from her feels like fighting gravity, but I force myself to keep walking. I can't afford to be weak. Not again. Not even for her.

Especially not for her.

???

The moonlight spills through the window, painting shards of silver across the dark room. I lie on my back, muscles coiled tight, staring at the ceiling as if it holds answers to the storm raging inside me. The mate bond pulses relentlessly, a constant, maddening reminder of Chloé’s presence just down the hall. I feel her—restless, awake, her emotions a tangled thread of hurt and exhaustion still raw from dinner.

My wolf stirs beneath my skin, pacing with a restless energy that mirrors my own. It demands action. Claim her. Protect her. Make her ours. The primal urges claw at my control, but I grit my teeth and force them back, knowing the danger in giving in. I’ve spent years mastering restraint, but this bond... it’s a leash I’m not sure I can hold.

I close my eyes, trying to shut out the sensations, but it only makes them stronger. Her scent lingers in my memory—warm like honey, fresh like rain, with something uniquely hers that sinks its claws into me, refusing to let go. The ache in my chest deepens, spreading down to my gut, my groin, demanding release.

“Damn it,” I growl, the sound barely more than a rasp in the quiet darkness. My hand fists in the sheets, the cool fabric doing little to chase away the heat building inside me.

The bond tugs harder, drawing out images I shouldn’t be entertaining. Chloé’s eyes, bright with quiet defiance when she faced down Liam. The graceful curve of her neck, exposed as she bent over her plate, trying to pretend their words didn’t cut her. The way her lips part just slightly when she’s lost in thought, as if waiting to be kissed.

I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But my body betrays me, my hand slipping lower, wrapping around the thick, aching need that’s been building since the moment I saved her. My mind conjures her, here in the darkness with me—those sharp eyes softening with desire, her skin warm and pliant under my hands. She sighs my name, her voice breathy, needy, as I claim her completely.

My movements quicken, the fantasy tightening its grip on me. My wolf growls in satisfaction, urging me on, the bond flaring with white-hot intensity. I can almost feel her—her breath against my neck, her body arching under mine, her soft gasps filling the air. The need to mark her, to claim her, surges through me like wildfire.

When release finally comes, it crashes over me, a brief, blinding wave of pleasure that momentarily drowns everything else. For a second—just one—the world is quiet, and there’s nothing but sensation. No pack politics. No looming threats. No impossible choices.

But then it fades. The pleasure trickles away, leaving only the emptiness behind.

I stare up at the ceiling, my chest heaving, and the weight of reality crashes back down. The mate bond still pulses, unsatisfied, reminding me that this—what I just did—is nothing but a pale imitation of what it wants. Of what it needs.

Chloé’s face flickers in my mind, but it’s not her defiance I see now—it’s her fragility. Her small stature. Her inability to shift. My mother’s death flashes before my eyes, the memory sharp and unforgiving. Her broken body, crumpled on the forest floor, blood staining the leaves. I swallow hard, the image twisting, morphing into Chloé lying there, just as fragile. Just as vulnerable.

I clamp my eyes shut, willing the images away, but they cling to me, seeping into my bones.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper to the empty room, the words tasting like iron. “I can’t protect you.”

The truth settles heavy in my chest, icy and unforgiving. Chloé isn’t built for this life—this world of power struggles and bloodshed. My pack will never accept her, not when they can barely look at her without questioning my judgment. She’s a weakness they’ll exploit. And worse—she’s a weakness I can’t afford.

I move, cleaning up mechanically, my body still humming with the aftershock of pleasure, but my mind is numb, cold. The mate bond whispers to me, promises of unity, of completion, but I shove it aside. An Alpha’s duty is to his pack. Always. No matter the cost to himself. No matter what he wants.

Tomorrow, I’ll tell her she has to leave. It’s the only way to protect her—from my pack, from this life, from me. I can’t keep her here, not when every moment she stays puts her in more danger. Not when the bond is pulling me apart.

The decision feels like swallowing shards of glass, but I force it down. There’s no other way.

The moonlight continues its slow crawl across the room, as distant and cold as the resolve hardening in my chest. Down the hall, I feel her consciousness finally slip into sleep, unaware that I lie here, wide awake, planning to break us both.

Maybe that’s for the best.

Because tomorrow, we’ll both be shattered.

And I’ll make sure it's the last time.

???

The morning sun creeps through my office windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. I pace behind my desk, each measured step echoing in the silence. My wolf prowls restlessly beneath my skin, sensing what I'm about to do, fighting me with every breath.

Chloé stands by the window, bathed in early morning light that makes her seem almost ethereal. Too pure. Too precious for the darkness that surrounds my life. The mate bond pulses between us like a living thing, drawing me toward her with an intensity that makes my hands shake. I grip the edge of my desk harder, anchoring myself against the pull.

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. My throat tightens around the words I need to say, words that taste like poison on my tongue. I rake my fingers through my hair again, catching Chloé's slight flinch at the harsh movement. She knows something's coming. The tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers twist together—she's bracing herself.

Finally, I force myself to move, stepping out from behind the safety of my desk. I keep enough distance between us to maintain some semblance of control, though every cell in my body screams to close the gap. To pull her into my arms where she belongs. Where my wolf insists she should be.

"We both know what this is." The words come out rougher than intended, scraping past the lump in my throat. I lock my eyes on hers, watching as understanding dawns in their depths. My wolf whimpers, sensing what's coming. "The bond... you're my mate, Chloé."

She stiffens, her breath catching. I see the flutter of her pulse at her throat, the slight tremor in her fingers as they curl into fists at her sides. She doesn't speak, but her silence speaks volumes. Waiting. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I don't make her wait long.

"But I can't complete the bond." Each word feels like swallowing glass. I shake my head, hating myself even as I continue. "You don't belong here. My pack... the life I lead..." My voice catches, memories of my mother's broken body flashing through my mind. "It'll destroy you. You deserve better than that. Better than me."

The hurt that flashes across her face is like a physical blow, but there's something else there too—a spark of defiance that makes my wolf howl in approval. She holds my gaze for what feels like an eternity before speaking, her voice steady despite the pain I can feel radiating through our bond.

"I won't stay where I'm not wanted."

I flinch, her words cutting deeper than she knows. My wolf rages, clawing at my control, demanding I take back the lies, claim what's mine. But I hold firm. This is the only way to keep her safe. To protect her from becoming another casualty in my world of violence and revenge.

The sudden buzz of her phone shatters the tension. She pulls it out, frowning at the screen. "It's from Ryan," she says, her voice hollow. "He says Mark... he was working alone. It's safe for me to return now." Her eyes meet mine again, and for a moment, I see everything we could have been reflected in their depths. "They're sending someone to pick me up."

Everything in me freezes. The reality of her leaving—really leaving—hits me like a physical blow. The mate bond pulses frantically, as if sensing the impending separation. This is what I wanted, what I planned for, but now that it's happening, I feel like I'm being torn apart.

"You were right, Theo," she says softly, pocketing her phone. Her voice carries a strength I didn't expect, a resolve that makes my chest ache. "It's time for me to go back."

She looks at me one last time, giving me a chance to stop this madness. My wolf howls, begging me to reach for her, to pull her close and never let go. But I force myself to remain still, watching as something in her eyes hardens. She straightens her shoulders, and in that moment, I see it—the quiet power I've been too blind to recognize.

"Goodbye, Theo."

Each step she takes toward the door feels like a knife in my gut. The sound of her footsteps, the soft rustle of her clothes, the gentle click of the door closing behind her—they all echo in my head like gunshots.

The silence that follows is deafening.

"Maybe she's better off going back," I whisper to the empty room, but the words ring hollow. My hands grip the edge of my desk until my knuckles turn white, the truth I've been fighting finally breaking through.

I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

The morning sun continues its slow crawl across my office, indifferent to the way my world has just shattered. The mate bond aches with each breath, a constant reminder of what I've thrown away. Of what I've lost.

My wolf's anguished howl echoes through my mind, mourning what we both know we'll never have again.