Chapter Twelve
Alexis
Back at Cole’s house, the adrenaline finally drains out of me, leaving nothing but shaky relief. The moment he pulls me into his arms, I practically melt against him. His chest is warm and solid.
“You absolutely swear you will not let the pack members kill him,” I murmur into his shirt. I’m not sure when I became the type of person who worries about the safety of teenage werewolf chemists, but here we are.
Cole strokes a strand of hair off my face, and the touch leaves a trail of tingles in its wake. “I swear,” he says. “He’s going to be working on our farm for the next six months, shoveling pig shit. Twelve hours a day. Nobody is going to physically harm him.”
A relieved laugh escapes me.
Then Cole’s expression hardens. “But he also understands that if he ever tries anything like that again, he will be executed.”
I stifle a shiver. The shifter world can be a harsh and frightening one. But there’s no denying the harm he risked causing. I don’t know if any other pack would have been as merciful. “Thank you,” I nod. “For doing that. For stopping it without… you know. Murder.”
I chew my lower lip for a second, then ask, “So what are you going to do about his discovery? About the rock?”
He exhales slowly. “We haven’t decided. My advice to the council is to sit on the knowledge for now, and I’m pretty sure that’s what will happen. No shifter is going to risk exposure by revealing this.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I promise. “I know how delicate things are between humans and shifters. I’m not going to start a war just to make a headline.”
Cole’s hands tighten slightly on my hips.
“But,” I add, “my boss said his sources heard there was some… craziness happening in Cedar Run. That might mean someone here is talking. Maybe even spying.”
Cole goes stiff. “Did he give any indication as to who?”
“None. Not even what pack they might be from.”
He scowls, and a long moment of silence drags out. Finally his scowl fades, and he takes a deep breath. “So… you quit the paper.”
I nod. “Yep.”
He doesn’t even pretend to hide his approving grunt. “You can work for the town newspaper.”
“I could. And I also actually already heard from a couple national publications.” I lift my chin, trying to look confident instead of like a woman whose stomach is doing gymnastics.
“So I’ve got choices. I could even do both, and I think it could be helpful.
There aren’t many humans living in shifter towns.
I could write feature pieces. Show the world that shifters are just like us. ”
Then I grin wickedly. “Except much sexier.”
Cole’s eyes light with that molten, hungry glow that makes my pulse skip. “Is that so?”
“Oh yes,” I say, leaning in until our noses almost touch. “Trust me. I have firsthand experience.”
And just like that, the fear and chaos of the day fades beneath the heat curling between us.
Cole’s smile shifts and my breath catches. It’s that look he gets sometimes, the one that says I’m not just some human he’s fond of. I’m his. His mate.
He cups my jaw with one big, warm hand, his thumb brushing my cheekbone in a slow sweep that sends sparks skating down my spine. “Alexis,” he murmurs.
His other hand slides to the small of my back, drawing me closer until our bodies line up perfectly.
His warmth wraps around me. His scent—pine and fur and something wild—settles into my lungs like a promise.
“You scared me today,” he says quietly, voice roughening. “I was in that council room trying to deal with the biggest crisis our pack has ever faced, but all I could think about was you. Out there. Alone. In danger. I felt like my wolf would rip through my skin just to go find you.”
Emotion punches through me—sharp, overwhelming. “I’m here,” I murmur, sliding my hands up his chest.
He exhales shakily, and then his lips brush mine.
I rise onto my toes, and my lips part, inviting him in.
The kiss deepens instantly, heat flaring between us. His arms wrap around me, lifting me slightly, angling my mouth exactly where he wants it. My fingers curl into his shirt, clinging like I’ll float away if I let go.
Everything in me feels alive. A little wild.
He pulls back just enough to speak against my lips. “You’re my fated mate,” he breathes, voice low and reverent. “I’ve waited for you my whole damn life.”
My heart trips over itself. “Then stop waiting,” I whisper.
A sound rumbles in his chest—half groan, half growl—and he sweeps me into his arms like I weigh nothing, carrying me toward the bedroom with fierce, determined intent.
The world narrows to his heartbeat, his heat, his hands.
And when he lowers me onto the bed, bracing himself above me, his eyes aren’t just brown anymore—they’re molten.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” he promises, voice a vow and a caress. “Every minute of it.”
And the rest of the world—the spies, the councils, the chaos—fades into nothing but the warmth of his body and the certainty of his touch.
Cole lays me down with a rough dominance that steals my breath. His hands frame my hips, steady and warm.
I reach for him, curling my fingers in the front of his shirt. “Take this off,” I urge him.
He doesn’t look away from me even as he pulls the shirt over his head. The fabric hits the floor with a soft thump, and then he’s leaning over me again—bare chest brushing mine, heat sinking through me like sunlight poured over skin.
His mouth finds my throat, kissing a slow line upward that makes my breath stutter. “You have no idea,” he murmurs against my pulse, “how long I’ve imagined touching you like this.”
My fingers slide over the muscles of his back—hard, warm, alive. He shivers under my palms, like my touch actually affects him as much as his affects me.
His hand slips under my shirt, tracing up my ribs. Every inch he touches feels like it sparks awake. When his thumb glides under the curve of my breast, my breath catches so sharply that he pauses, eyes flicking up to mine, checking.
I nod. “Please.”
Something dark and tender flickers across his face. And then he kisses me—deep, hungry, claiming. His tongue strokes mine, slow at first, then deeper, and his hand cups my breast fully now, thumb circling in a way that steals every coherent thought.
I arch into him, a low moan slipping from me before I can stop it.
He smiles against my mouth. “I love that sound.”
He kisses me again, slower now, savoring. His other hand drifts lower, fingers skating over my hip, then sliding under the waistband of my pants—just enough to make my pulse stumble.
“Cole…” I gasp.
He grows still, his breath warm on my neck. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” I whisper. “All of you.”
A low, rough growl vibrates against my skin and heat coils deep inside me.
He undresses me with a rough urgency, his hands lingering, learning, memorizing. Every new place he touches feels like it blooms under his palms. When I’m bare beneath him, he pauses—just looks at me.
No man has ever looked at me like that.
His voice is barely a breath. “Beautiful.”
He lowers himself over me, skin to skin, heat to heat, and my whole body arches, craving even more contact. His mouth trails down my throat, across my collarbone, lower still—each kiss hotter than the last, each touch drawing soft gasps from me that I couldn’t hold back even if I wanted to.
I slide my hands into his hair, tugging him closer. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not stopping,” he murmurs, kissing the swell of my breast. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
His body moves against mine in a way that leaves no doubt what he’s feeling—hard, urgent, almost trembling from restraint. He presses his forehead to mine, his breath shaking.
“Alexis… if we keep going, I won’t last,” he says, voice rough, raw. “I’ve wanted you for too long.”
“Then don’t last,” I whisper. “I want you undone.”
His control snaps.
He kisses me fiercely, shifting his weight, hands sliding to my hips as he settles between my thighs. I wrap my legs around him, drawing him in, and the sensation of him—hot, thick, perfectly inside me—makes a startled moan escape me.
He sucks in a harsh breath. “You’re killing me.”
He moves against me, slow at first, grinding in a way that makes sparks explode behind my eyes. Our bodies rock together in a rhythm that builds fast—too fast—heat spiraling upward with every roll of his hips, every hungry kiss, every whispered, “You’re mine.”
Pleasure tightens in me, rising impossibly quickly. My nails dig into his shoulders as I gasp his name.
“Cole—”
“I’ve got you,” he growls, voice unsteady. “Let go.”
When I do, the world breaks apart—heat, light, the feel of his body pressing into mine as the orgasm tears through me. I cry out, clutching him close, shaking.
He groans, burying his face in my neck as he follows me over the edge, his whole body tensing against mine, his breath coming hot and uneven against my skin.
For a long moment, we just breathe—intertwined, trembling, weightless.
Eventually he shifts just enough to look at me, brushing my hair back and staring down at me with a look of love and wonder.
“Welcome to the rest of your life,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead.
And somehow, even after everything, I believe him