Born To Be More

Fairytales

"f**k, that was a close call when Michael and Arabella called Raine ‘Luna,’" I muttered to Dad, keeping my voice low while Raine laughed with Mum by the window.

Dad folded his arms, brow raised. "You need to tell her soon. The pack’s getting restless—especially the young ones."

"I know," I said through clenched teeth. The pressure was building. I’d only had her in my arms for two days, and already the pack could feel it—what she was. Even if she didn’t.

How the hell do I tell her she’s not just a Kiwi model—not just mine—but a blue wolf, fated to be Luna of the strongest pack in the region?

I didn’t want to scare her. Or lose her.

Mum kept gushing, her eyes shining like Raine just handed her a grandchild. Poor girl looked like she was one compliment away from faking a phone call.

I grinned. Time to save her before Mum broke out the baby photos.

“Let’s go,” I said, cutting in and sliding my hand into hers. She looked relieved—and yeah, I didn’t blame her.

Raine soaked in the village like it was her own private fairy tale—the gym, the training center, the Olympic pool, and finally, the youth center. She didn’t just admire the place—she felt it. Lit up talking about community and second chances for kids who didn’t quite fit in.

And then she saw Megan.

The girl sat in her usual corner, sketchbook in hand, head down. Raine’s expression shifted—softened—as if she recognized something in her. Before I could react, she slipped ahead, moving toward Megan like they were old friends.

Shit.

I reached out instinctively, trying to catch her hand. Megan didn’t talk to anyone. Not since her mum died. She was all silence and static.

But Raine just knelt beside her, calm, kind.

And Megan looked up.

I froze as Raine complimented her drawings, told her she was talented. Told her she saw her.

And then—Megan spoke.

She spoke.

When Raine walked back to me, I took her hand in silence, throat tight, heart pounding.

My chest was still tight from watching her with Megan—hell, if she wanted to spend more time with that girl, I'd build her a damn art wing myself. Anything to keep her close.

I caught her hand and pulled her into me, kissing her slowly, deeply. God, she was fire and honey. My body ached to get her back to my room and bury myself in her all over again. But my girl had other plans.

Her gaze wandered to the tree-lined trail just past the gardens.

"Let’s leave that trail for tomorrow, Angel," I said, trying to be rational—for once.

"Just a little peek?" she asked, flashing those eyes at me.

I sighed and followed her in.

The air shifted the moment we stepped under the canopy—cooler, quieter, like the forest held its breath. I watched Raine run her hands over the trees, fingers trailing bark like it was silk. She moved with reverence, like the woods were whispering secrets only she could hear.

“This feels familiar, Max,” she said, resting her cheek against the trunk of an old cedar. “Like I’ve been here before.”

Tyson stirred instantly. Max… I hear her.

My spine went rigid. “What do you mean, you hear her?”

Her wolf. She’s stirring. She's waking up. That name—Shyla—I heard it clear as day.

Shyla. The name hit me like a punch to the chest.

I focused back on Raine. Her face flushed, breath coming faster. She clutched the tree like it was holding her upright, and her scent—f**k—it exploded around me. Wild, electric, addictive. Then she swayed.

“Rainey?” I rushed forward, hands on her cheeks, trying to anchor her. “Angel, stay with me.”

Her pupils were dilated, her body humming like live wire. She blinked slowly, as if surfacing from a dream.

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” she whispered with a dreamy smile.

But she had. She’d gone somewhere deep, primal—connected.

I cupped her face gently, brushing my thumbs along her cheekbones. “Angel, you blanked out for a moment. Let’s get you back to rest, okay?”

She nodded, dazed. “Okay, Mr. Wolf,” she murmured

She was coming home.

Rainey presses soft kisses to my neck as I carry her up the stairs. I speed up.

The moment I reach the room, I kick the door shut behind us and pin her to it, holding her in place with my hips. My c**k grinds against her through my jeans, throbbing.

“Do you want this, Angel?” I growl, voice rough as gravel.

She moans, breath hot. “Yes, Max—I want you. I want you buried deep in me. Now.”

That’s all it takes.

I snap.

Her nails dig into my shoulders, hips arching up to meet mine. I rip her shirt open, buttons scattering across the floor, and shove her bra down so her perfect t**s spill out—high, flushed, waiting for my mouth.

I devour them. Sucking hard, biting gently, licking the peaks until she’s panting and writhing, gasping my name.

I press her harder against the door with my hips and slide one hand down to pop the button on her jeans. She moans again, more desperate this time.

“Max, please…”

I dropped to my knees, yanking her jeans and panties down in one motion, baring her completely. I stepped back for a beat, needing to take her in—flushed, panting, glowing.

Mine.

All mine.

“So wet for me, Angel,” I growled, sliding two fingers into her slick heat.

She gasped, arching into me, riding my hand like she owned it—hell, she did. Then she bit into my neck, right where her mark would go, and I nearly lost it.

“f**k, Raine,” I choked, Tyson howling in my head as she clenched tighter, grinding against me like she needed me to fill every part of her.

Whatever had awakened in her—I wanted more.

I pulled out, lifted her higher, and thrust into her in one brutal stroke. She cried out, head falling back, and thank f**k the walls were soundproof because my girl was loud—and I loved every second.

I pounded into her, hips snapping, sweat slicking our skin. Tyson pushed for control, desperate to mark her.

Not yet. She had to know first.

“Max—I’m close!” she cried, voice breaking.

I pinched her n****e and sank my teeth into her neck—just enough to tip her over.

She shattered around me, crying out as her body convulsed. I followed with a groan, spilling deep inside her, holding her tight as we came undone.

Foreheads pressed. Breaths tangled.

She was mine.

And soon, she'd know exactly what that meant.

She stirred again, body trembling with fresh need.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” I whispered against her ear.

She looked up, eyes gleaming. “Good.”

"You were made for me, Angel," I murmured, voice thick with need. "You're mine."

I guided her gently, slow and steady, slipping back inside and giving her time to adjust as our bodies moved in sync.

“Breathe for me, baby,” I whispered, kissing along her neck. “Just breathe.”

She gasped, then pushed back against me, full trust in every motion. I groaned, gripping her hips, moving deeper with slow, deliberate thrusts.

The intensity stole my breath. She moaned my name, every sound a symphony just for me. I reached around, circling her c**t, coaxing every gasp, every tremble.

“That’s it, Angel,” I growled. “Let go. Come for me.”

And she did—beautifully, powerfully—her body tightening around mine as she cried out, voice broken and breathless. The pleasure ripped through me like wildfire, and I followed, holding her close as we came undone together.

Panting, slick with sweat and heat, we stayed wrapped around each other—whole.

My mate. Perfect.

Still catching my breath, I scooped her into my arms and carried her to the bathroom, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as I set her gently on the vanity. She glowed—flushed, relaxed, radiant. Everything I’d ever wanted.

I filled the tub, adding bubbles, then lifted her in with me, settling back against the wall and pulling her between my legs. Her back pressed to my chest, warm water and silence wrapping around us.

For a while, we just breathed.

Then I reached for a cloth and began to wash her—slow, reverent strokes. A quiet vow in every touch.

“You’re perfect, Angel,” I murmured, kissing her shoulder.

She leaned back into me but didn’t speak. My chest tightened.

“You okay, baby?” I asked, brushing wet strands from her neck.

“I’m great… just thinking,” she said softly.

“Thinking about what?”

She hesitated. “Back in the woods… when I touched that tree—it was like something filled me. Warm. Familiar. Beautiful. But strange. And then, Max… I wanted you. Not just wanted—needed you.”

Her voice dropped, a little shaky. “I’ve never felt like that before. It scared me.”

A low growl rumbled in my chest—the possessive kind. I hated even the thought of her comparing this to anyone else. But I forced myself to soften.

“Good,” I said with a grin. “Because that’s exactly how I want you—desperate for me. And for the record, you were f*****g incredible. You can jump me anytime that need hits again, Angel.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes, and the tension melted from her frame.

Then she paused. “Max… you called me ‘mate’ again.”

I held her closer. No more hiding.

“That’s because you are, my Angel,” I said quietly. “You’re my mate. You belong to me… just like I belong to you.”

She stilled, fingers idly tracing mine across her stomach, letting the words settle in.

I could feel the questions rising behind her silence, but I wasn’t ready to open that door. Not yet.

I pressed a kiss to her temple and reached for the towel. “Come on, baby. Let’s get dressed and find something to eat.”

She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t pull away either.

She’s feeling it now—the pull. The shift. Her wolf is stirring.

And soon, she’ll know everything.

Dinner with my family was… entertaining.

Mum pulled out every embarrassing story she had, including the one where I pissed on Dad’s boot thinking it was a tree. My brothers added fuel to the fire with their own greatest hits.

Raine was in stitches the whole time.

As much as it bruised my ego, seeing her laugh like that—so at ease with them—was worth every second.

Later, we curled up in my bed, her body soft and warm against mine.

“What do you want to watch, Angel?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Comedy?” she murmured through a yawn, snuggling closer.

Perfect.

I put on an old classic—Something About Mary. Half an hour in, we were both laughing at Cameron Diaz unknowingly styling her hair with jizz—because apparently, that never gets old.

And then... soft snores.

I glance down. Raine is fast asleep against my chest, her lips parted slightly, lashes resting on flushed cheeks. Christ, she’s beautiful like this—peaceful, wrapped in nothing but my T-shirt and my scent. I tuck the blankets around her gently and kiss her forehead before sliding out of bed.

Tyson’s pacing in my head, growling low. He needs out. So do I.

I head downstairs, grabbing some shorts and tossing on a hoodie.

“Rion, you awake man?” I link.

“Yep, what’s up?”

“Feel like a run? Tyson needs to let off steam.”

“Hell yes. Meet you out back?”

“Yup. Five.”

I kill the TV, leave a note for Raine in case she wakes up, and jog down the stairs.

As I reach the back patio, Rion’s already stretching. Smug.

“You f**k that poor girl to sleep, brother?” he asks with a wicked grin.

“Shut it, Rion,” I growl, cracking my neck. “Let’s run.”

“Ran into these two on the way,” he says, nodding to my brothers as they step out from the tree line, already half-shifted.

Perfect. A full run with the pack.

We shift, bones cracking and fur bursting free. Tyson stretches through me, powerful and ready, and then we’re off—four wolves tearing through the trees, paws pounding against the earth, moving as one.

The cold mountain air burns in my lungs. Trees whip past in a blur.

But even as we run, my thoughts circle back to her. To Raine.

To the girl asleep in my bed, who somehow made this place feel more like home in a day than it ever has.

And to the truth I’ll have to tell her—soon.

Because her wolf is waking.

And once Shyla rises... everything will change.

Our favorite place to run—Jewel Fort. A narrow cliffside clearing hidden deep in the mountains. From here, the entire pack territory stretches below like a painted map, quiet and still.

The boys trail behind me, weaving through scrub, our wolves sleek and silent. The cool mountain air is laced with pine and earth—steadying, grounding. Tyson exhales, calm at last.

We break into the clearing and slow, shifting as we step into the open. I walk to the edge, bare feet sinking into moss, and stare out.

From here, the pack house looks like a Lego castle nestled in the trees. And inside it—Raine. My mate. My Luna. Whether she knows it yet or not.

Rion, Nate, and Kai move up beside me, silent as we take it in.

“I had a close call today,” I say finally. “Arabella and Michael called Raine ‘Luna.’ Right in front of her.”

Rion lets out a low whistle. “Shit.”

“She brushed it off,” I continue, “but later in the woods… she touched a tree. Said it felt familiar. Then she just froze. Zoned out like she wasn’t even there. Tyson swears her wolf stirred. He’s losing it—wants to mark her.”

Rion’s tone turns serious. “Max… you’re running out of time. If she finds out another way—if someone else tells her—it could break everything.”

Nate nods, voice steady. “You said the bond’s already there. The pull’s strong. She’s yours. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

I rake a hand through my hair, jaw tight. “I know. I’ll tell her—tomorrow. She deserves the truth. It’s just… it’s a lot. She just started the new job. Mark’s still out there. And now I’m supposed to drop, ‘Hey, surprise, you’re a werewolf and my fated mate’ on top of that?”

No one argues. Because they know I’m right.

But they also know I can’t wait much longer.

I stare back at the house—warm light glowing through the trees. She’s in there, asleep in my bed, wrapped in my scent, and she still doesn’t know who she really is.

Tomorrow.

I shifted—bones cracking, fur ripping through skin—and ran.

Fast. Focused. Heart pounding with the weight of what was coming.

Because ready or not… her awakening was near.

We came skidding onto the main trail near the gardens, shifting back and tugging on the shorts we’d stashed. Adrenaline still surged from the run—until I heard it.

A gasp.

Small. Sharp. Close.

“f**k,” Nate linked. “It’s Raine.”

My heart stopped.

Then she ran.

“Raine!” I shouted, sprinting after her. “Raine, wait!”

Tyson surged forward, pushing speed into my limbs. She tore across the lawn and into the training grounds, bare feet flying, hair streaming behind her like panic set loose.

“Angel, please!” I called. “Stop, baby—just talk to me!”

But she didn’t. Not until she hit the edge of the garden, stumbled—then I moved.

I vaulted the hedge and caught her mid-motion, wrapping her in my arms as she sobbed and struggled, her small hands pushing at me.

My chest cracked wide open.

“No,” I whispered into her hair. “Please… no, baby.”

“Let me go,” she gasped, shaking her head. “I just need to think!”

“Rainey, please,” I said gently, cupping her cheeks. “Don’t fight me. Just look at me.”

She turned her face away—but didn’t pull away again.

“I would never hurt you, Angel. Hurting you would be like hurting myself. You are everything to me.” I kept my voice steady, grounding her—grounding myself. “Have I ever—at any point—made you feel unsafe? Made you doubt me?”

She shook her head, silent tears trailing down her cheeks.

I laced my fingers with hers and slowly led her to the bench near the edge of the training field. We sat in silence. My heart pounded, but I held back. I needed to do this right.

After a minute, I turned to her.

“Angel,” I said quietly, “I’m going to tell you the truth. All of it. You can ask me anything, and I’ll answer. But I need you to keep an open mind—especially about things that might sound impossible. Can you do that?”

She hesitated… then gave a small nod.

“I need your words, baby,” I said, soft but firm.

“Yes, Max,” she whispered.

I exhaled, the weight of it all pressing down as I linked Rion.

Rion, bring a couple blankets to the training bench. Now.

Because what I was about to tell her… would change everything.

I pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders, trying to shield her from the cool night air—and the truth I’m about to drop on her.

“Angel,” I begin softly, “tell me what you saw tonight.”

She fidgets, fingers twisting in her lap. “I… I s-saw you. And Rion. And your brothers… shift. You turned from wolves back into… yourselves.”

Her voice shakes—but she says it.

“That’s good, Angel. You’re not crazy. And you weren’t hallucinating.”

Just then, Rion steps out of the shadows, silent as always, and hands over a couple of blankets. He gives me a long, knowing look before disappearing again.

I drape one across her lap and keep my voice low. Calm. Honest.

“Raine… do you remember stories from your childhood? Fairies. Dragons. Trolls?”

She frowns. “Yeah. The usual fairy tales. Why?”

I nod slowly. “They’re not just stories. They’re real. Fairies, dragons, mermaids, witches… they all exist. They’ve lived among us for thousands of years, hidden in plain sight. Trolls too—though they mostly keep to their own realm.”

Her eyes widen, jaw slightly slack. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” I say simply. “Each species is represented by a high council. They work together to maintain peace between the factions. We blend into human society. Unless we want to be seen, you won’t know we’re there.”

She just stares at me, stunned into silence.

Just blinks.

I let her breathe through it.

“Wait,” she finally says, eyes narrowing. “So… you’re not just a really hot guy with a weird wolf kink?”

Despite the tension, a slow grin tugs at my lips. “No, Angel. I’m an Alpha werewolf. Max Crawford, Alpha of the Jewel Moon Pack. What you saw tonight—me and my brothers shifting—that was real.”

She inhales sharply. I see the wheels turning behind her eyes.

“This is insane,” she whispers.

“I know,” I say gently. “But it’s also the truth.”

Her gaze flicks up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know if you were ready. Because I wanted to give you time. And… because I was scared.”

She arches a brow. “You? Scared?”

I nod. “Terrified. Of losing you. Of overwhelming you. Of saying too much too soon and pushing you away.”

Her expression softens, but I can still see the confusion flickering beneath the surface.

“Angel,” I say, reaching for her hand, “this isn’t everything. There’s more—and it’s bigger than both of us. But before I tell you anything else, you need to know this part is real. I’m real. What I feel for you… it’s not magic. It’s not fate pulling strings. It’s me. I want you. All of you.”

She doesn’t speak—just blinks slowly, silent.

“I’m a wolf, Rainey. What you saw tonight—that was real. And I’m sorry you had to find out like that. I never wanted to scare you.”

Her eyes are wide, but she nods slowly.

“This land, where we are now, is called the Jewel Moon Pack. It’s one of the largest werewolf territories in the world. And I’m the Alpha.”

Her brow furrows. “Alpha… like the leader?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Think president, king, chief. I protect the pack, enforce laws, guide them. Everyone you’ve met here—my parents, the team, the kids—they’re all wolves, Raine. And my house? It’s not just a mansion. It’s the pack house—our base. Our home.”

She looks down, silent for a beat, then lifts her gaze. “So… all that stuff you told me about business and security—was that a lie?”

“No. Never.” I shake my head firmly. “I do run companies. I am in security. That part’s all true. But I’m also an Alpha. And in our world? That’s not unusual. A lot of powerful people—leaders, CEOs, politicians—are wolves. Or other supernatural species. We’re woven into society in ways most humans never notice.”

She exhales slowly. Processing. “And you can just… change? Like that?”

“At will,” I say. “It’s incredible. You’re stronger. Faster. More connected to the earth, to each other. Being in wolf form... it’s like coming home.”

I pause, watching her carefully.

“I know this is a lot. I know your world just tilted sideways. But nothing I feel for you has changed. If anything… it’s only gotten deeper.”

She doesn’t speak—but she doesn’t pull away either. Just breathing. Processing.

“Tyson would love to meet you,” I say gently. “He’s been dying to since the second I saw you at the airport. He’ll never hurt you, Angel. We’ll both protect you with everything we have.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Who’s Tyson?”

“He’s my wolf—the other half of me.”

She stares at me for a beat. “Can I… see him?”

Hope and worry twist inside me. “Are you sure?”

“Please, Max,” she whispers.

I nod, step back, and strip off my shorts, shifting right there in front of her.

Bones crack, muscles stretch, and Tyson takes over—massive, thick-furred, and powerful. I immediately lower myself, lying at her feet to show I’m not a threat. Tyson’s taller than her even sitting, and the last thing I want is for her to feel fear.

But she doesn’t flinch.

Instead, her fingers reach forward, brushing over my fur. Tyson lets out a deep, rumbling purr—and rolls to the side like a giant damn puppy, belly up.

Raine laughs—light and real—and it’s the most perfect sound I’ve ever heard.

She kneels beside me, hands sinking into my fur, slow and curious. Tyson melts under every touch, nuzzling closer. When she seems completely at ease, I rest my head in her lap.

She giggles again and presses a kiss to the top of my muzzle.

Tyson is in heaven. This is everything he’s ever wanted. Everything we’ve ever needed.

We stay like that for a while—just breathing, just being.

Eventually, I rise, grab my shorts in my mouth, and move a few steps away before shifting back. As I pull them on, she watches me silently.

“Do you call me mate,” she asks slowly, “because it’s… a wolf thing?”

I pause. “Yes, Angel,” I say softly. “But we can talk more about that tomorrow. You’ve had enough for one night.”

She nods, clearly drained. “Yeah. It’s a lot.”

She turns toward the house, and I fall in behind her—just a step back, close enough to feel her warmth.

She’s not running.

Not from me. Not from us.

And that… means everything.