Chapter 14
1136 Words
Casey dreams in heat.
Not fire.
Not flames.
Heat like skin against skin.
Like breath at her throat.
Like hands gripping her hips in the dark.
In her dream, she is standing in Miles’ room. Moonlight spills through the window, silver against his bare chest. He is watching her the way predators watch prey — focused, hungry, certain.
“You feel it now,” he says in the dream.
And she does.
The bond isn’t a hum anymore.
It’s a pulse.
A living thing.
It coils low in her stomach and tightens when he steps closer.
“I’ve been patient,” he murmurs.
His fingers trail from her shoulder down her arm. Everywhere he touches, sparks follow. Her body arches into him without hesitation.
In the dream, she isn’t unsure.
She isn’t shy.
She isn’t fighting.
She wants.
His mouth finds hers, slow at first — then consuming. His hands slide down her back, over her hips, pulling her flush against him. The heat between them builds instantly, overwhelming, desperate.
“Mine,” he growls against her mouth.
The word vibrates through her.
She feels his strength, his control slipping. Feels the way her body answers him instinctively. The way her legs tighten around his waist. The way her hands dig into his shoulders.
The bond pulses harder.
Stronger.
Closer.
“I need you,” she whispers in the dream.
And this time—
He doesn’t stop.
—
Casey wakes with a sharp inhale.
Her room is dark.
Her body is not calm.
Her skin is flushed, hypersensitive. Her heart pounds like she’s been running. Heat coils low and insistent, sharper than it’s ever been before.
It’s not just desire.
It’s the bond.
And it’s stronger.
She presses her thighs together instinctively, trying to ease the ache building inside her. But it only makes her more aware of it.
Of him.
Her wolf shifts restlessly beneath her skin.
Twenty-one.
She’s only weeks away.
And the closer she gets, the more the bond awakens.
Last week it was a hum.
Now it’s a pull.
A craving.
A need that feels biological.
Primal.
She sits up slowly, breathing hard.
Across the hall—
She feels him.
Not hears.
Feels.
The connection is clearer now. Thicker. Alive.
And then—
A low, strained growl sounds through the wall.
Her breath catches.
He’s awake.
Of course he is.
He feels it too.
The air seems charged, like before a storm. The bond tugs between them, heavy and undeniable.
A knock hits her door.
Soft.
Controlled.
But not calm.
“Casey.”
Her name is rough, edged with restraint.
She swings her legs off the bed before she can think better of it.
When she opens the door—
Miles stands there in loose sleep pants, chest bare, hair slightly disheveled.
His eyes are darker than she’s ever seen them.
Predatory.
Focused.
Struggling.
“You feel that?” he asks quietly.
She nods.
“Yes.”
His jaw tightens.
“It’s stronger tonight.”
“I know.”
Silence stretches between them.
Thick.
Breathing becomes louder than it should be.
The bond pulses again — sharp enough to make her sway slightly.
He notices instantly.
His hand shoots out to steady her at the waist.
The moment he touches her—
It ignites.
Her breath shatters.
His control visibly cracks.
“Casey…” he warns.
But he doesn’t let go.
Her hands slide up his chest without permission from her brain. His skin is warm. Solid. Real.
“Why is it like this?” she whispers.
“Because you’re getting closer,” he says tightly. “Your wolf is waking up.”
Another pulse.
Stronger.
Her body reacts immediately, arching closer to him.
His hands tighten on her hips.
He inhales sharply.
“You smell like you did last night,” he murmurs, voice deeper now. “Only stronger.”
Heat floods her face.
“I can’t stop it.”
“I know.”
That’s the problem.
His forehead drops to hers.
His breathing is uneven.
“I’m barely hanging on,” he admits quietly.
The confession makes something inside her soften — and burn at the same time.
“I don’t want you to hang on,” she whispers.
His eyes flash.
Dangerous.
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
The bond surges again — this time so intensely it makes her gasp. Her fingers grip his shoulders, nails digging in slightly.
He growls — not in anger.
In need.
His mouth crashes to hers.
Not gentle.
Not slow.
Desperate.
Her back hits the wall inside her room, and he follows, pressing her between him and the door. His hands roam lower, gripping her hips firmly, pulling her against him.
The heat between them is overwhelming now.
Her body moves instinctively against his.
Seeking friction.
Seeking relief.
“Casey,” he breathes against her mouth. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for yet.”
“Then show me,” she whispers back.
His control shatters for half a second.
His hands slide under her shirt, palms pressing against bare skin. The contact sends a jolt through both of them. She gasps, arching into his touch.
The bond explodes again.
Stronger.
Hungrier.
And then—
He stops.
Again.
But this time it looks like it physically hurts.
He steps back abruptly, running a hand through his hair.
“I can’t,” he says hoarsely.
Her chest heaves. “Why?”
“Because once I start,” he says, eyes blazing, “I won’t stop.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Raw.
He steps forward again — but only enough to cup her face gently this time.
“I want you fully awakened,” he murmurs. “I want you choosing me when the bond hits you at full force. Not because your body is pushing you there before you’re ready.”
She swallows hard.
“It’s already pushing.”
He gives a humorless half-laugh.
“Tell me about it.”
Another pulse ripples between them, less violent this time but deeper.
Promising.
He leans down, pressing one slow, lingering kiss to her mouth.
Not desperate.
Not wild.
Intentional.
“I’m barely hanging on,” he repeats softly. “And it’s only going to get worse.”
Her breath trembles.
“What happens when I turn twenty-one?”
His eyes darken in a way that makes her knees weak.
“When you turn twenty-one,” he says quietly, “the bond won’t just pull.”
“It will claim.”
He steps backward toward the hallway.
“And when that happens,” he adds, voice low and dangerous, “I won’t be able to walk away.”
He leaves her standing there — flushed, shaken, and acutely aware of one thing:
Time is not slowing down.
And neither is the bond.
- Writer
