Born To Be More

Discoveries

Max

I pull up to Chic, barely holding back the urge to run inside. I need to see her. I’ve been thinking about Raine all damn day, and Tyson’s no help—pacing, howling, flipping around in my head like a goddamn teenage girl.

“Will you chill the f**k out, Ty?” I growl.

He grins at me from the back of my mind, no remorse whatsoever. I slam the mental door on him and get out of the car.

Inside, I flash my ID at reception. “Raine Marshall is expecting me.”

“Yes, of course, sir. Go on up,” the woman says quickly, eyeing me like she wants to ask more but thinks better of it.

The elevator ride is short, but not short enough. At the executive reception, I’m greeted with a smile. “Good afternoon, sir. I’ve called through to Miss Marshall. Please, have a seat—she’s on her way.”

I nod and drop into the chair, tugging out my phone to scroll messages—anything to stop me from pacing like a lunatic. I can smell her already, faint but present. Sweet and warm.

Tyson stirs again.

“Settle down, she’s coming.”

And damn, she better be.

Looking up from my phone, I catch movement in my periphery and glance up—Dad’s old friend is walking over.

“Max? What are you doing here?” he says, grinning. “Good to see you, young man.”

I stand and shake his hand. The guy’s always called me that, even when I was already running my own business. “Good to see you too, Mike. I’m here to pick up Raine.”

His eyebrows shoot up and his smile widens. “Well, now—that’s a hell of a match, son. She’s something special. You be careful with that one, yeah? She’s new to all this, and I don’t want to lose my new star.”

I nod, smiling because I agree—on all counts. “Don’t worry, I feel the same.”

And then she walks in.

Fuck.

Rainey moves across the room with confidence and grace, and my chest tightens. She’s absolutely stunning. My girl. I can’t believe she’s real.

“Hey, you,” I say, slipping an arm around her waist as she steps in beside me.

Mike gives her a warm smile. “This girl right here shook up the studios today. I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s all anyone’s talking about this afternoon.”

Pride swells in my chest. Damn right she is.

“Thank you, sir,” Raine says, gracious and composed.

She has no idea how bright she shines.

But she will.

Caine and Melissa file out looking tired, and I look down to Raine, noticing she also looks exhausted. "Rainey, let’s get you home", I whisper. She nods and leans into me a little. Ty perks up and sighs "See you tomorrow Raine", Melissa says, "Thank you, both for today". She replies. I keep my arm around her, and we walk towards the lift. It feels good to have her in my arms. Once the doors close, I bring her in closer and hold her tight before lowering my lips to hers and capturing a soft kiss. She licks my lip and I give her a nip. “I missed you today, Angel,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her neck and breathing her in. Her scent hits me full force—stronger than before, sharper, like wildflowers and rain and something ancient I can’t place.

Ty groans in my head. Mate… she’s coming alive.

After a quiet ride home—with Raine’s hand resting in mine the entire way—we enter the foyer of her building. The space is warm and familiar now, but I stay alert, scanning for anything off.

“Rainey, want to check your mail before we head up?” I ask, glancing toward the front desk.

She nods. “Might as well.”

We approach reception where the night-shift staffer, Smith, greets us. “Good evening, Miss Marshall. Mr. Crawford.”

“Hi, Smithy,” Raine replies with a smile.

His face lights up like a kid being handed a puppy. “What can I do for you both?”

“Just checking for mail or messages,” she says.

He nods. “Of course. Let’s see... Yes, you’ve got some mail today.” He hands it over with a smile.

We thank him and start toward the lift when he suddenly calls out, “Oh, Miss Marshall—wait!”

Raine turns. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry, but… you also had a visitor today,” Smith says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was just as I was coming on shift. He was asking questions—making inquiries with the day staff.”

My body tenses. I narrow my eyes, my protective instincts flaring.

“Did he leave a name or a card?” Raine asks, her tone calm but cautious.

“No. Nothing. Just… vanished when I showed up. I’ll talk to the team—make sure they know not to give out any information,” Smith mutters, clearly unsettled.

“Thanks, Smith,” I say firmly, guiding Raine toward the lift. I pull her a little closer, my hand tightening around hers.

Someone’s looking for her—and they’re not playing by the rules.

Walking her into her apartment feels... normal. Too normal. I only wish I was walking her into our home at the pack house, where she truly belongs.

“You look tired, Angel,” I say softly. “Why don’t I run you a bath?”

She smiles, eyes soft with exhaustion. “That sounds divine right about now.”

I step into her space and wrap my arms around her, needing to feel her against me for just a moment longer. "Let’s order dinner in tonight,” I murmur against her neck.

She exhales a tired laugh. “That sounds great. I’m sorry for ruining your plans for dinner—today was just a long day.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” I say, kissing her gently just below her ear. “Come on, you pour us a glass of wine, and I’ll fill the bath.”

“Ok,” she agrees, already headed toward the kitchen.

I let my lips linger at the curve of her neck, right where my mark will one day sit, and she shivers. That reaction stirs something primal in me. I smile, give her a playful smack on the ass, and send her on her way.

She steps into the bathroom with both wine glasses in hand. I take them from her, setting them on the counter before turning to face her.

“Come here, Angel.”

She walks into my space, her eyes sparkling despite the wear of the day. I slide my hands down her arms, skimming over her waist, and lift her shirt over her head. f**k, she looks good—too good. My d**k is instantly rock hard, and Tyson growls in my head like a damn animal in heat.

“Max,” she giggles, clearly sensing my restraint.

I keep going, slowly undressing her piece by piece. It takes every shred of discipline not to taste her while I peel off her jeans and panties. As I lower them, I catch sight of a few splatters of paint on her legs and hips.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Don’t even ask,” she laughs, eyes full of mischief.

“Come on, Angel. In the bath,” I say, voice low.

She steps in, and I quickly strip before sliding in behind her. She leans back into my chest, settling between my legs, and we both let out a long, contented sigh.

Peace. For the first time today, I feel it.

“Max,” she murmurs, shifting slightly.

“Baby,” I whisper into her hair, “if you keep wiggling that ass against my c**k, it’s going to end up buried inside you. And I think we both need a little calm first.”

She lets out a soft, knowing laugh. I hand her the wine, and we soak for a while in silence, the warmth of the water and her body easing every part of me.

“This is lovely,” she says eventually. “Thank you. It’s exactly what I needed after today.”

I kiss her shoulder. “Angel, tell me about your day.”

And she does.

I listen carefully, soaking in every word while mentally filing away the things I’ll need to follow up on—especially the one named Tiffany. I need to confirm she’s safe to keep around.

Because after what I just learned from the New Zealand pack, I’m not taking any chances with my mate.

“Don’t forget we have a date on Saturday, Angel,” I remind her, brushing a kiss to her temple. I need to prepare her—and myself—for what’s coming.

“I know,” she says, stretching with a content smile. “One more day of work and I’m free. I’m really looking forward to it.”

So am I.

We dry off, wrap up in robes, and wander back into the lounge. She curls into the couch like she belongs there—and she does.

“I’ll order dinner. What do you feel like?” I ask.

“Thai or Italian?” she offers.

“Perfect,” I say, already knowing what I’ll pick. I love both—and I love surprising her. One day, I’ll take her to my villa at Lake Camo in Italy. I can already picture her there—barefoot, wind in her hair, looking like a dream against the water.

I place the order, then pull her onto my lap. She gasps in surprise, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“You’re going to have to get used to this,” I murmur against her ear.

Tyson is pacing again in my head, restless, growling, mark her, mark her. But we can’t. Not yet.

Soon.

Very soon.

“Why do I feel so comfortable with you?” she asks softly. “Don’t you think it’s weird—or rushed? Like we’re moving too fast. I feel… overwhelmed by you.”

“No,” I say without hesitation, meeting her eyes. “You’re mine, Angel. And I’m not letting you go.”

Her expression shifts, unsure, and I realize how that might’ve sounded. f**k.

“I mean… I’m falling for you, Rainey,” I say more gently. “Don’t you feel it too?”

My heart pounds. I never ask questions I don’t already know the answer to—but with her, everything feels uncharted.

“Yeah, I do,” she admits. “I missed you today. It already feels like you’re part of my life. But… I also feel kind of dependent on you—and that doesn’t sit right with me.”

I pull her closer, kissing the curve of her neck. She shivers against me, and it feeds every primal instinct I have.

“I’m naturally a dominant guy, Angel,” I murmur. “Possessive. Protective. Especially over what’s mine.”

“You’re mine, too, right?” she asks, lifting her eyes to mine.

I smile, brushing my lips against hers. “Only yours.”

Forever, I think, holding her tighter.

Dinner arrives, and we settle around the coffee table in the living room, plates balanced on our laps while the music channel plays softly in the background.

“This is delicious, Max,” she says, smiling between bites.

I can’t help but smile back. “Glad you like it.”

We eat in comfortable silence for a moment, until I speak again. “Angel… tell me what you remember about your parents. What it was like growing up with them.”

Her smile fades slightly, caught off guard. “That’s a hard question,” she says. “I don’t really… remember much.”

“I just want to know you better, that’s all,” I say gently.

She picks at her food, thinking. “It’s weird. I mean, I have dreams about them—feelings, flashes, but not clear memories. Nothing solid.”

“What do you mean? You don’t have actual memories?” I ask, my curiosity and concern mixing.

She shakes her head. “Not like memories tied to real-life moments. It’s all jumbled. Like fragments from dreams I’ve had over and over again.”

She hesitates, then looks at me, her eyes cautious. “Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”

“Never,” I say, voice steady. “Go on, Angel.”

“In the dreams, we’re in the woods near our home. Not a house, though—a village. It felt like a small community… like families living close together, everyone knowing each other. It always feels warm and safe.”

My heart hammers in my chest, but I keep my expression calm. “What happens in the woods?”

“We’re playing, laughing… chasing each other. But in one dream, a wolf comes out of the trees and my dad steps in front of me, protecting me. I don’t know if it was real or just some messed-up memory twist. But that’s what I see.”

Her voice softens. “And I feel drawn to the forest, like… it’s where I belong. I think it’s because of them. I was only eleven when they passed, Max. Isn’t it strange that I don’t remember more of my life with them?”

“It’s not strange, Angel. Especially if the trauma was bad. The mind protects itself sometimes.”

She gives a dry laugh. “Well, then my mind’s basically Fort Knox. In another dream, I’m running with other kids through the trees—chasing rabbits, of all things. That one makes zero sense.”

I chuckle, but my wolf Tyson stirs, wide awake now. She remembers...

“Have you ever talked to anyone about it?” I ask. “A counsellor? Hypnotist?”

“No. My aunt…” Her expression hardens. “I’m sorry, but she was a b***h. Controlling and secretive. Wouldn’t let me talk about them at all. Said remembering would only hurt more.”

I reach over and take her hand, brushing my thumb across her knuckles.

“You’re not crazy, Rainey. Not even close. And I promise you… everything you’re feeling? It’s real. And one day soon, it’s all going to make sense.”

She leans into me, silent but comforted. I wrap my arm around her, grounding her to me.

And I silently vow: when she learns the truth—about who she is, and who her parents really are—I’ll be right beside her. No matter what.

The whole thing doesn’t sit right with me. Why would her memories be blocked? Wolves have excellent memory retention, especially for things like family, pack, and territory. But Raine—Raine is different.

“She has been protected,” Tyson rumbles. “Even her memories.”

That actually makes sense. But what the hell kind of power can block a wolf’s memories?

We need answers, I think, and Tyson agrees with a low growl.

“Well,” I say, pulling her a little closer, “I think talking about it helps, Angel. Maybe remembering them, even in pieces, will give you some peace.”

She leans her head against my shoulder, quiet for a moment. Then softly, she says, “I miss them, Max. I didn’t even get to see them after the accident. I was just… sent off to my aunt’s, and that was it.”

“No funeral?” I ask, surprised.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Nothing. I was told it was too traumatic, that there was no point. My aunt didn’t really want me. I was just... her responsibility. A burden.” Her voice cracks slightly. “The only reason she took me in was because their insurance covered everything. I have a trust fund, apparently—it unlocks when I turn twenty-four. But none of that matters. I’d give it all back just to remember them—just to feel like they were real.”

Glassiness clouds her eyes, and my chest aches at the sight.

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and look into those eyes I’ve come to crave. “I’ll help you, Angel. I’ll help you find out what happened. Where they’re buried. And one way or another, we’ll unlock those memories. You won’t be alone in this.”

She blinks, trying to hold it together. “Thank you, Max.”

I can’t help it. I lean in, kiss her softly, then trail my lips along her jaw until I’m at her neck, inhaling her scent like it’s oxygen.

She exhales shakily and then grabs the belt of my robe, pulling it loose and turning to straddle me. “You can start helping me by f*****g me into oblivion,” she says with a wicked grin.

A deep chuckle rumbles from my chest as I nip at her throat. “Angel, I’m staying the night, so don’t even bother asking.”

“Good,” she whispers, her fingers already in my hair.

I stand with her in my arms and carry her to the bedroom.

And just like she asked, I made good on my promise to help her—starting with showing her exactly how mine she truly is.