Chapter 15 – Carla
CARLA
Billy’s warmth surrounds me. The pillow wall didn’t even make it an hour last night. We’d given up pretending after the third attempt to rebuild it. Now I’m draped across his chest, our legs tangled, his arm holding me firmly against him.
“Morning,” he rumbles, voice rough with sleep.
I tilt my head up to look at him, and my breath catches. His eyes are darker than usual, amber bleeding into the brown. His bear is close to the surface.
My pulse quickens.
“Morning,” I whisper back.
His hand slides up my spine, fingers tangling in my hair. The simple touch sends heat through me, but it’s more than just desire now. My skin feels hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive. My wolf is pushing forward, desperate for something more permanent than stolen nights and careful boundaries.
Mark him, she demands. Claim what’s ours.
The urge is so strong; it makes my teeth ache.
Billy’s nostrils flare. His fingers tighten in my hair, and I feel a tremor run through him. “Carla...”
“I know.” I press my face into his neck, breathing him in. The spot where his neck meets shoulder seems to throb with its own heartbeat, making my mouth water. “I feel it too.”
“We should... we need to think about this.”
His voice is strained. His other hand traces the same spot on my neck, fingertips barely grazing the skin, but it’s still enough to make me gasp.
“Do we?” The words come out breathless. “No. You’re right. We should think. Be rational.”
Neither of us moves. His thumb strokes my throat, and I can feel my pulse hammering against his touch.
“I need to get ready for work,” he says finally.
Still, no movement.
“The brewery. Ethan will be waiting.”
Another moment passes. The air between us feels charged, electric. Like one spark could set everything ablaze.
“Carla, if we don’t stop now...”
I force myself to roll away, the loss of contact actually painful. “Shower. You need to shower.”
He practically bolts from the bed, and in seconds, the bathroom door closes with enough force to rattle the frame.
I press my palms against my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart. My wolf whines, pacing restlessly inside me. Every instinct screams to follow him, to push him against the shower wall and…
No. I dig my nails into my palms. Control.
When Billy emerges, dressed for work, there’s a careful distance between us. But I catch the way his eyes track my movements as I navigate the kitchen. His knuckles are white where he’s gripping his coffee mug. Ceramic creaks under the pressure.
“Will you be okay today?” he asks, same as every morning. But his voice is rougher, deeper.
“I’ll be fine.”
I focus on washing dishes, needing the distraction. The water is too hot, but I barely feel it. Everything seems muted compared to the burning under my skin.
“Maya might stop by later.”
He sets his mug down with deliberate care. I hear him move closer, feeling the heat of him behind me, but he stops just out of reach.
“I should bring more clothes over. If that’s still...”
“Yes.” The word bursts out. “I mean, that would be practical.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “Practical. Right.”
The air crackles between us as he takes a half-step closer.
I grip the edge of the sink.
He takes another step.
My breathing quickens.
“I should go.”
“You should.”
Neither of us moves. His eyes drop to my neck, and heat flares through me so intensely, I sway on my feet.
“Billy...”
“I know.” He backs toward the door like I’m dangerous. Maybe I am? His hands clench and unclench at his sides. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Be safe.”
He pauses at the door, looking back. The hunger in his eyes makes my knees weak. “Carla? This thing between us... we’ll figure it out. Together.”
After he leaves, I collapse against the counter. My skin feels too tight, like I might burst out of it. Every heartbeat sends the message through my body: unmated, incomplete. Find him, claim him.
I try to distract myself with normal tasks. Laundry. But his scent on the sheets nearly brings me to my knees. Cleaning. But every surface reminds me of him. Reading. But the words blur as my wolf paces, agitated about our unmarked mate being out there, away from us.
By noon, I can’t stand it anymore. My hands shake as I grab my keys.
I dress carefully. Jeans that hug my curves, a soft jade green sweater that Billy once said brings out my eyes. I catch myself dabbing perfume at my pulse points and freeze.
What am I doing?
Going to our mate, my wolf answers.
The drive to town feels endless. My hands grip the steering wheel to keep them from trembling. Not from fear. From need.
The brewery hits me with a wall of scent. Hops and malt and yeast. But underneath it all, I catch his, and my wolf surges forward.
I find Billy in the back, checking gauges on one of the fermentation tanks. He’s pushed up his sleeves, flexing his forearms, as he makes notes, concentrating hard. A bead of sweat trails down his neck.
I want to lick it off.
He looks up as I enter, and his entire body goes rigid. “Carla.”
“Hi.” My voice comes out husky. “Is this okay? I know you’re working...”
He’s across the room before I finish. He grips my waist, pulling me against him hard enough to steal my breath.
“More than okay,” he growls against my hair. “I’ve been going crazy all morning.”
“Me too.” I fist my hands in his shirt, breathing him in. This close, the need to bite is overwhelming. “I couldn’t stay away.”
His hands slide up to frame my face. I can feel the tremor in them.
“My self-control is hanging by a thread here.”
“Mine too.” I admit.
He kisses me then, soft and sweet, but I can feel the restraint in it. The careful control. When we break apart, his eyes have gone fully amber.
“Let me finish this batch,” he says, voice like gravel. “Then I can take a break.”
I perch on a stool, watching him work. The sure way he moves around the equipment. The flex of muscle under his shirt. He keeps glancing at me, nostrils flaring, like he’s checking that I’m really there.
Or he’s scenting me.
“You’re getting good at this,” I observe, trying for normal conversation.
“Good teacher.” He makes another note, but his hand shakes slightly. The pencil snaps, and he tosses it aside with a curse. “And I enjoy building things. Creating.”
“It suits you.”
He moves closer, caging me between his arms. The metal stool creaks as I lean back, and his heat surrounds me.
“You know what else suits me?”
“What?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“You. Here. In my space.” His nose traces my jaw, not quite touching. I shiver violently. “God, you smell incredible.”
“Billy...”
The door bangs open then.
We spring apart, but it’s too late. Craig’s standing in the doorway, flanked by two other bears. The temperature seems to drop by ten degrees. His gaze takes in our position, the obvious intimacy.
His sneer is ugly.
“Well, isn’t this cozy. The traitor and his wolf bitch.”
Billy moves instantly. One second he’s beside me, the next, he’s between Craig and me. A living wall of protective fury.
But something’s different for me this time. Instead of fear, I feel rage. Pure, protective rage that has my wolf snarling to the surface.
My vision sharpens. My nails lengthen slightly.
“You need to leave,” Billy says, voice deadly calm. But I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he curls his hands into fists. “Now.”
“Or what?” Craig steps further inside. His buddies spread out, trying to flank us. “You’ll run away again? Hide behind your girlfriend’s skirts?”
“He won’t need to.” The words come from me, but my voice is different. Deeper. I step around Billy despite his attempt to keep me behind him. “You’re the one who’s going to leave.”
Craig’s eyebrows rise. “The scared little wolf found her voice?”
“I’m not scared of you.”
And surprisingly, it’s true. My wolf is too focused on the threat to our mate to feel fear. Every instinct screams to protect, to defend, to eliminate the threat.
“You’re in Grey Ridge territory, threatening a member of our pack.”
“He’s not your pack,” Craig spits. The words hit like physical blows. “He’s a Lennox. A bear. He belongs with his own kind.”
“He belongs with me.” The growl that emerges doesn’t sound human. I take another step forward, and I know my eyes are glowing gold. “And if you threaten him again, you’ll deal with me.”
Craig laughs, but there’s uncertainty in it now. He takes a half-step back. “You? What are you going to do, little wolf?”
I bare my teeth. “Whatever I have to.”
“Carla,” Billy warns softly.
Through our incomplete bond, I feel his emotions, pride, concern, and love. It feeds my determination.
The brewery door opens again, and Ethan enters first, followed by three wolves. The scent of the pack fills the space. They take in the scene in seconds: Craig and his bears, Billy protective but not aggressive, and me standing my ground.
The atmosphere shifts.
“Problem here?” Ethan asks casually, but his eyes are sharp, assessing.
“No problem,” Craig says quickly. Too quickly. “Just visiting an old friend.”
“Funny way of visiting.” Rex steps through the door, Cooper’s older brother, all lethal grace and a stony expression that would stop you in your tracks. “Sounded more like threats from out here.”
More wolves appear in the doorway. My wolf settles slightly. Pack protects pack.
“You boys should move along,” Rex says, still conversational. But there’s alpha blood in his voice, unmistakable authority. “This is pack territory. We don’t take kindly to outsiders causing trouble.”
Craig looks around, calculating his odds. Three bears against a growing number of wolves on their home ground. The math isn’t in his favor.
His jaw works like he’s chewing glass.
“This isn’t over,” he snarls at Billy.
“Yes, it is,” Billy says firmly. “And if you’re smart, you’ll stay away from Grey Ridge. Mitch might be trying to reform the clan, but he won’t tolerate you causing problems with our neighbors. Think about that before you come back.”
Our neighbors.