Chapter 10 Felix
Felix
I’m floating.
That’s what it feels like. Not in the dreamy, euphoric, just-got-laid way (although… yes, that too). More like my world’s shifted into a different orbit. One that rotates around Ben’s quiet voice and steady hands and the way he said Let’s find out what that means without even blinking.
He stayed.
That should terrify me.
Instead, I can’t stop grinning.
Later that day, I stop by the pack’s cabin to check in. I don’t want to, but if I ghost them any longer, someone’s going to show up at the café asking questions. And I don’t need a confrontation in front of Ben and three dozen cinnamon rolls.
Rowan’s waiting for me on the porch, arms crossed, eyes wolf-sharp.
“You smell different,” she says.
“New soap,” I lie.
She doesn’t buy it.
Inside, the others are pretending not to listen, which means they’re absolutely listening. I barely get my coat off before Tobias, the current pack beta and part-time menace, clears his throat.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time in town.”
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s where my job is.”
“And your human.”
There it is.
I take a breath. Keep my tone breezy. “His name’s Ben. And he’s… kind of important.”
Across the room, Rowan’s eyes narrow. “Is he your mate?”
“Yes.”
Silence drops like a hammer.
“But he’s unclaimed,” Tobias says after a beat, his voice flat.
I hate that word. Like Ben’s a package they’re all just waiting for me to stamp and sign for.
“He’s also human,” Tobias says, like that’s a ticking time bomb.
“I'm dealing with it," I assure them.
Felix, meet wall.
Tobias doesn’t stop. “You know unclaimed humans can’t cohabitate long-term with shifters without official registration, right?”
“I’m aware.”
“And undeclared human mates—especially ones who don’t even know they’re mates—get flagged for review. Does he know?”
My jaw tightens. “He’s not clueless.”
“Is he registered?”
“No.”
“Marked?”
“No.”
“Then he’s a problem,” Tobias says, voice cold. “We’ve had more activity reported on the outer edge of the territory. Investigators sniffing around. You think they won’t be curious when they see a shifter cozying up to a human barista with no legal protections in place?”
“He’s not just a barista.”
“And you’re not just in heat.”
I bristle. Hard. “I’m not in heat. This isn’t a fling.”
“Then claim him.”
“I will,” I grit out. “When it’s right. When he’s ready.”
The room is still for a moment. Then Tobias steps back, nodding like he’s done for now. But the message is clear.
Move fast. Or lose him.
By the time I leave the cabin, the floaty feeling is gone.
I spend the rest of the day at the café trying not to snap at customers. Ben clocks it, of course, he doesn’t miss anything. He watches me carefully over the milk frother, brow furrowed.
“You good?”
“Peachy,” I lie.
He doesn’t push. Just slides me a fresh cup of coffee and nudges a sugar packet my way without looking. It’s weirdly intimate.
And exactly what I needed.
***
We end up at his place that night, tangled in the steam of the shower while the storm outside rattles the windows.
It starts slow. Lazy. The kind of heat that builds like fog on glass… gradual, inevitable.
His hands slide over my back, warm and certain, fingers pressing into my ribs like he’s relearning me. His mouth finds my neck, open-mouthed and wet, and I swear the sound I make is barely human.
My hands anchor at his hips, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between us.
He exhales hard against my skin. “You okay?”
My stomach flips. Just a little.
“Yeah,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ben leans back, just enough to study me. His eyes narrow like he’s picking up on something I didn’t mean to let slip. “You’re… weird tonight.”
“Thanks,” I say, grinning. “That’s the goal.”
“Felix.” His voice goes flat in that way it does when he’s trying not to overreact. “What aren’t you saying?”
I pause. One heartbeat. Two. Then I lean in and kiss him, soft and slow, mouth open, letting it say everything I can’t.
“I just want you,” I whisper when I pull back. “Here. Now. With me.”
He hesitates. I feel it in the way his hands tighten on my waist. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Because I am. Sure of him. Sure of this.
But I also know this isn’t the time to bring up the mate bond or how the pack's been breathing down my neck, or how I’m terrified of pushing him away by needing too much too soon.
So I don’t say any of it.
Tomorrow, I tell myself. Maybe. When it’s less perfect. When I’m less afraid…
I kiss him like I need to. Like the only thing keeping the world from crashing in is his breath against mine.
He kisses me back like he’s finally done pretending we don’t fit.
I slide to my knees on the slick tile. He groans, low and wrecked, one hand braced on the wall, the other tangled in my hair.
Possessive. Reverent.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
After, we hold each other under the water, quiet and close. I trace circles on his shoulder while his breathing slows. My wolf hums beneath my skin, calmer now.