Chapter 13
1179 Words
Casey doesn’t hear a single word in her afternoon lecture.
Not one.
The professor’s voice is distant background noise compared to the memory of Miles’ hands on her waist last night. The way his mouth hovered at her throat. The way he forced himself to step back.
Her wolf has been restless all day.
Pacing.
Wanting.
Needing.
The bond feels tighter today. Hungrier.
When class finally ends, she exhales like she’s been holding her breath for hours.
Molly is waiting outside the building, arms crossed and eyes blazing with curiosity.
“Well?” Molly demands instantly. “Tell me everything.”
Casey flushes. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Molly gasps. “You moved into the future Alpha’s house. There is absolutely something to tell.”
Casey grabs her arm and pulls her toward a bench, lowering her voice. “We slept in separate rooms.”
Molly blinks.
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“Did he at least try something?”
Casey hesitates.
Molly’s eyes widen. “He did.”
Casey swallows. “He kissed me.”
Molly grips her forearm. “How?”
Casey’s voice drops. “Like he was starving.”
Molly freezes.
“And I—” Casey’s cheeks burn. “I didn’t want him to stop. I was shaking. If he hadn’t pulled away…” She presses her thighs together subconsciously. “We wouldn’t have stopped.”
Molly stares at her like she’s witnessing history. “You slept across the hall from that?”
“Yes.”
“And survived?”
“Barely.”
Molly fans herself dramatically. “You are living in a fantasy.”
Before Casey can respond, a familiar scent hits her first.
Cedar. Smoke. Male heat.
Miles.
He’s leaning against his car, dark shirt fitted perfectly across his chest, sleeves pushed up just enough to expose strong forearms. His eyes lock onto hers immediately.
Possessive.
Hungry.
Controlled.
Molly inhales sharply. “He looks like sin.”
Casey swallows.
Miles walks toward them, gaze never leaving her face.
“Ready?” he asks softly.
Her body reacts to the sound of his voice.
“Yes.”
Molly leans toward Casey’s ear. “If he snaps tonight, text me.”
“Molly!”
Miles’ mouth twitches like he heard that.
He opens the car door for her like a gentleman.
But when she slides in, his fingers linger at her lower back just a second too long.
And her pulse jumps.
Dinner is almost painfully normal.
The cook has prepared a full meal and excuses herself with a polite nod, leaving them alone in the quiet house.
They talk about school.
About pack patrols.
About her father checking in.
But under the table, Miles’ knee brushes hers.
And stays there.
Every accidental touch feels deliberate.
Charged.
When dinner ends, Casey stands first.
“I’m going to change.”
His eyes darken slightly.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”
The shower runs in his room.
Casey changes into soft sleep shorts and a loose tank top. Nothing dramatic. Nothing intentional.
But her skin is hypersensitive tonight.
Aware.
The bond pulses warm and low in her belly.
She steps into the hallway—
And freezes.
Miles is stepping out of the bathroom at the same time.
A white towel hangs low on his hips.
Dangerously low.
Water still traces down the planes of his chest. Over sculpted muscle. Down the sharp lines of his abdomen.
Her mouth goes dry.
He looks primal.
Raw.
Untamed.
She quickly looks away.
But her body betrays her.
Heat pools low.
Her breathing changes.
Her scent shifts.
And he feels it.
Miles goes completely still.
His head tilts slightly.
His nostrils flare.
The air thickens instantly.
“Casey.”
Her name is no longer gentle.
It’s strained.
She swallows. “I was just—going to bed.”
He steps closer.
Slow.
Measured.
But his eyes are no longer calm.
“You think I don’t smell that?” he murmurs.
Her heart slams into her ribs.
“I can’t help it.”
His jaw tightens.
“I know.”
He’s right in front of her now.
Close enough that heat radiates from his damp skin.
Close enough that the towel brushes her bare thigh.
The contact makes her inhale sharply.
His control cracks.
Not completely.
But enough.
His hand slides to her waist.
Not rough.
But firm.
Claiming.
“You’re driving me insane,” he growls softly.
Her hands press against his chest instinctively.
Solid.
Warm.
Bare.
She can feel his heart pounding just as hard as hers.
“I thought you said separate rooms,” she whispers.
“I did.”
His hand tightens slightly.
“But you smell like you want me.”
Her breath stutters.
“I do.”
The confession slips out before she can stop it.
His eyes darken to something almost feral.
His mouth crashes to hers.
Not slow.
Not testing.
Hungry.
His hands move from her waist to her hips, lifting her slightly so her back presses against the wall. Her legs instinctively wrap around him.
The towel shifts dangerously.
His body presses fully against hers.
Heat.
Hardness.
Need.
She gasps into his mouth and he swallows the sound.
The bond explodes between them.
Every nerve ignites.
His mouth trails to her neck, teeth grazing lightly.
“Say stop,” he breathes against her skin.
She can’t.
She doesn’t want to.
Her fingers tangle in his damp hair instead.
That’s all the encouragement he needs.
His grip tightens.
His control frays.
The air is thick with her scent now—sweet, unmistakable desire.
He growls low in his chest.
The sound sends a wave of heat through her.
But then—
He stops.
Completely.
His forehead drops to her shoulder.
He’s breathing hard.
Fighting.
“Not like this,” he mutters.
Her legs slowly loosen around his waist.
He gently lowers her feet to the floor.
His hands linger at her hips.
“You’re not even twenty-one yet,” he says roughly. “And if I take you before your bond fully awakens… it won’t be because you chose it with a clear mind.”
Her chest rises and falls rapidly.
“I am choosing.”
His jaw tightens.
“I know. But I want you when you can feel all of me. Every part of the bond. Not just the edge of it.”
He steps back slowly.
The towel barely holding on.
His eyes drag over her one last time.
“If you stay in this hallway,” he warns quietly, “I’m not walking away again.”
Her pulse jumps.
She forces herself to step backward into her room.
He watches her go.
Hungry.
Restrained.
Barely.
“Lock your door,” he says.
“Why?”
His eyes burn into hers.
“Because tonight I almost didn’t stop.”
He disappears into his room.
The door closes.
Casey leans against her wall, shaking.
Her body still humming.
Still aching.
And she realizes something terrifying—
Next time…
He might not be able to walk away.
- Writer
