16. Colton
Chapter 16
Colton
I didn’t even feel myself move. All I saw was red. My wolf rose up like a wildfire inside me, burning logic, scorching every ounce of reason.
Carter had looked at Remy like he owned him. Like he had a right. The second that thought slammed into me, I snapped.
My muscles surged, bones shifting mid-lunge. My skin split into fur and power, my jaw cracked, and I was airborne before I even registered the change.
All I cared about was the rage thundering through my blood and the need to protect what was mine.
Carter saw me at the last second and shifted too, a massive dark-furred wolf with gold-rimmed eyes. He barely managed to brace as I crashed into him like a freight train.
We hit the dirt hard, snarling and snapping, fur flying, limbs locked in a brutal dance. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, felt flesh tear, tasted blood.
He retaliated with a vicious swipe of his claws that raked down my side, but I didn’t feel it. Didn’t care. We rolled across the roadside in a snarling, chaotic tangle of fangs and fury.
Trees bent, gravel tore beneath our paws.
Every nerve in my body screamed for domination, for Carter to be driven off. To make sure he never came near Remy again.
The world blurred around us—cars honking in the distance, the scent of dust and blood, the distant echo of someone shouting?—
Something cracked. We slammed into the town sign.
The “Welcome to Pecan Pines” wood split in half, splinters scattering, the heavy post snapping as we tumbled through it.
Carter growled, powerful and unyielding, shoving me back for a second. He bared his teeth, his own rage boiling now, but I didn't let him catch his breath.
I lunged again, jaws snapping just inches from his throat. He dodged, barely, but I clipped his side and sent him sprawling.
“Stop!” Remy’s voice—sharp, desperate—cut through the chaos.
I heard him. The human part of me heard him. But my wolf didn’t care.
It wanted Carter gone. Now. I snarled and lunged again.
“Colton, damn it, listen to me!”
Still, I kept going, muscles moving on instinct, claws striking.
Carter fought back with everything he had. We were both bloodied now, breath coming hard, paws slipping in churned-up dirt.
Then a new presence hit the air like a lightning strike. Remy. His scent flared, full and wild—and then I saw him shift.
Like during the full moon, the transition was smooth. Remy shifted cleanly, easily, and in full control.
A sleek, beautiful wolf darted between us and let out a sharp, commanding bark. His eyes, so familiar even in this form, locked with mine.
And I froze. My heart thundered in my chest. My wolf stumbled. For the first time since the fight began, I felt my control snapping back into place.
Remy pressed his side against mine, soft and solid, grounding me. Another bark—gentler this time. Then a soft nudge under my jaw.
I panted hard, still trembling with the need to attack, to finish it. But I couldn’t. Not with him here.
Not when Remy had shifted—because of me, because of us—and was now pleading with me to stand down. Finally, some reason returned to me.
Slowly, I pulled back, my chest heaving. Carter—bloodied, breathing hard—watched warily but made no move to continue.
I turned, brushing my nose gently against Remy’s fur. He let out a soft whine and leaned into me, his body warm, his bond humming with worry and affection.
He’d stopped me. He’d saved me.
And for the first time since the fight began, I let the rage drain out of me. Let myself feel the shaking aftermath of what I’d almost done.
I nuzzled Remy one last time before taking a step back and shifting, bones cracking and fur receding as I returned to human form.
I knelt there, bloody and exhausted, wiping a hand down my face as I looked at the wrecked sign and the destroyed roadside.
And then, at Remy—back in his human skin too, crouched beside me, worry etched across his face.
“You shifted without problems again,” I breathed, reaching for his hand. “Remy… you’re amazing.”
He nodded, still panting. “You almost didn’t leave me a choice.”
I gave a soft, broken laugh and cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry. I just—he was too close. I couldn’t think.”
He leaned into my touch, his voice softer now. “I know. But next time, just listen. Trust me, okay?”
I nodded, forehead resting against his. “I will,” I promised.
Behind us, Carter stood in silence, blood drying on his brow, dirt clinging to his skin, but his posture was… still. Not threatening. Not aggressive. Just tired. Maybe even remorseful.
I was holding Remy close when he whispered, “He’s not here to cause trouble. Just to drop off my things and say goodbye.”
My arms tightened around him. The fight was draining from my muscles, replaced now by a weight in my chest—heavy and gnawing. Guilt.
I’d jumped to conclusions. I’d let the bond—our bond—overwhelm me with fear and fury. I’d attacked without asking, without listening.
All because I couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting him again. I pulled back just enough to look at Remy. “You’re sure?”
Remy nodded, voice soft. “He said he’s moving the pack on… that they’re changing things. He wanted closure.”
Before I could respond, the sound of tires crunching over gravel snapped our attention toward the road. Another vehicle pulled up.
Jesse stepped out of the driver’s side, looking disheveled and wide-eyed, and right behind him, Cooper emerged, calm but coiled with quiet authority.
Cooper took one long look at the broken sign, the blood on my side, the torn shirt clutched in Carter’s fist—and then his eyes landed on me.
He didn’t speak right away. Just observed, weighing the whole picture.
“What happened here?” Cooper’s voice was low, controlled, but firm.
I stood up straighter, swallowing the taste of shame in my throat.
“It was me,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I lost control. I saw Remy upset, and I—” I let out a breath. “I attacked Carter. I thought he was here to take Remy back.”
Cooper looked at me for a long moment, then turned to Carter. “Is that true?”
Carter, bruised and bloodied but composed, gave a nod. “Yeah. He came in hot. But I should’ve announced myself. I just wanted to drop off Remy’s things, tie off loose ends. I wasn’t here to cause trouble.”
Cooper’s mouth pressed into a line, then he nodded briskly. “We’ll sort this out properly at the compound. Everyone into their cars. Healers are waiting.”
We made the quiet ride back to the pack compound. I drove, Remy beside me, our hands locked together, fingers intertwined.
I kept glancing at him, taking in every subtle breath, every quiet glance. My heart still thundered from everything that had just happened.
At the clinic, Ethan and Devon were already waiting.
Ethan gave me a long look before he sighed and muttered, “Sit down, you stubborn ass.”
I did, letting him work while Devon patched Carter up a few feet away.
Cooper stood near the door, arms crossed, gaze never leaving me.
Once the worst of the damage was tended to, he said quietly, “Colton. Start from the beginning.”
I nodded, throat tight, and began recounting everything—from the way I’d felt the spike of Remy’s distress through the bond, to how I’d panicked and followed my instincts, to the moment I saw Carter standing too close to him on the roadside.
“I didn’t think, Cooper,” I admitted. “I just… reacted. And I know that’s not how I should’ve handled it. This is on me. All of it.”
To my surprise, Carter—who had been quiet, arms resting on his knees—spoke up.
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Carter said.
“He reacted like a mate should. I’m not saying it was fun getting my ribs cracked,” Carter added with a tired smirk, “but I should’ve done things differently too. I should’ve let someone know I was coming. Maybe even reached out to Colton or your pack first. I wasn’t trying to stir anything up—I just wanted to do right by Remy, for once.”
I glanced at Remy, whose eyes were glassy, lips parted like he wanted to say something but didn’t quite know how. He stood slowly, stepping toward Carter.
“Thanks for coming all this way,” Remy said, his voice quiet but steady. “It means a lot.”
Carter nodded, his expression unreadable but calm. “Figured it was the least I could do,” he said. “You deserved to have your things back.”
There was a brief pause, a current of something unspoken lingering between them. Remy took a small breath and straightened his shoulders.
“I appreciate it,” Remy continued, his tone resolute. “And I want you to know—I’m happy here. This is where I belong now.” He glanced at me briefly, then back to Carter. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Yeah,” Carter said after a moment, his voice steady. “I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed. And it’s clear you’ve found where you’re meant to be.”
A quiet stillness fell over the room, like everyone was waiting for someone to take the next step. Cooper did.
He walked toward Carter and offered his hand. “As one alpha to another, I apologize for the misunderstanding.”
Carter accepted the handshake. “Let’s call it even. I should’ve handled this better too. Let bygones be bygones.”
Then, with one last look toward Remy—maybe even a ghost of a smile—Carter turned and left.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Remy’s hand found mine again, and I squeezed it tight.
And then I looked to Cooper. “There’s one more thing I want to do.”
He tilted his head. “Yeah?”
I stood, still holding Remy’s hand, and gently pulled him forward. “I want to officially introduce my mate to the pack.”
I turned to Remy, who looked nervous again—his cheeks flushed, lips pressed together—but he didn’t let go.
Cooper’s face cracked into a rare, wide smile. “You already ran with us, but I’d like to formally welcome you to the Pecan Pines Pack, Remy.”
And with those words, he reached forward and gently placed his hand over Remy’s heart. The pack bond flared.
I felt it—like warmth rushing into a hollow space, filling it with connection, with belonging.
Remy inhaled sharply, eyes wide, as the bond settled in his chest. He was one of us now. Ours. Mine.
And I could see the change in him instantly.
His shoulders eased. His mouth curved into a small, genuine smile. And when he looked at me, I felt something deeper than joy. It was peace and contentment.
* * *
The clinic was quiet now. Carter had gone, Cooper had left to give us space, and Ethan and Devon were busying themselves elsewhere, giving us the kind of privacy only a pack who understood bonds could offer.
Remy sat beside me on the padded bench, still a little flushed from the pack bond forging.
He kept looking down at his hands like they were something new—like something had changed. And maybe, to him, they had.
“You okay?” I asked softly, nudging my shoulder against his.
His eyes flicked up to meet mine, warm brown with a hint of shimmer from held-back emotion.
“I think so,” he murmured. “It feels… different now. But in a good way.”
I didn’t reply right away. I just watched him—really watched him. The way the soft light caught the curve of his cheek.
The way his lips were parted just slightly, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start.
The faint, lingering crease between his brows. Always so worried. Always carrying more weight than he should.
I reached out and slid my fingers along his jaw, gently tilting his face toward mine. Remy’s breath hitched, and something flickered in his gaze—like a dam cracking.
“I’ve never belonged anywhere,” he whispered.
I leaned in and pressed my forehead to his. “You belong here.”
His hands found my chest, fisting gently in my shirt like he was anchoring himself.
“Yeah,” he said.
I tilted my head, kissed the corner of his mouth first—soft and slow—then the other, before finally brushing my lips over his in a kiss that was unhurried, but filled with every unspoken thing I wanted to tell him.
How proud I was of him. How much I adored him. How deeply, irrevocably I loved him. When I pulled back just enough to speak, I rested my palm against his cheek and met his gaze.
“Welcome home, Remy.”
His eyes welled with tears he didn’t let fall. He nodded once, hard, like my words had landed somewhere deep inside him.
Then he kissed me again—this time with more surety, more want. Like he finally believed it was real.
We stayed like that for a long moment. No more questions. No more doubts.
Just the two of us. His hand over my heart, my fingers tangled in his hair, and the bond between us pulsing steady and true.
We were still tangled up in each other when the door creaked open.
“Ahem.”
Remy jumped slightly, and I looked over my shoulder to find Ethan standing in the doorway with a smirk and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Well, this is sweet,” he drawled, tilting his head. “But unless y’all plan to make out under medical supervision, might I suggest you get a room?”
Remy made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan and buried his face in my shoulder.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a pain.”
Ethan leaned against the doorframe, grinning wider. “Hey, I’m just trying to keep the place sterile.”
“Sterile, my ass,” I muttered, then grinned at Remy. “You wanna get out of here?”
Remy nodded, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with a mix of laughter and affection. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Ethan winked at Remy on our way out. “Welcome to the family, by the way. You’re already making him sappy. Good work.”
Remy laughed, and I swatted at Ethan’s shoulder as we passed him, but even I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Not this time.
Not when my mate was finally mine—accepted, bonded, and standing beside me without fear.
As we walked toward the exit, Remy slipped his hand into mine, fingers lacing together like it had always been that way.