Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

DAKOTA

T he air in the study was heavy with dust and secrets, the late afternoon sun spilling through the window in lazy, golden beams that seemed to touch each leather-bound spine with reverence. Dakota stood motionless amidst a sea of scattered papers, her breath caught in her throat as she absorbed the gravity of the truth she had just uncovered.

"Impossible," she muttered to herself, though the ancient texts and faded photographs strewn across her grandfather's desk seemed to be pretty clear. Her heritage, her very essence, lay bare before her—she belonged to a lineage of wolf-shifters, a past so expertly concealed it felt like emerging from one dream only to wake in another.

With deliberate motions, Dakota began to gather the evidence of her newfound identity. She packed her grandfather’s papers, the scent of aged parchment clinging to her fingers like a persistent memory. The computer, once a silent sentinel in the corner of the room, now held the keys to unlocking further facets of her existence. She unplugged it and then disconnected its cords with a gentle tug, bundling them together, the sounds of wrapping up her grandfather’s life echoing in the quietude of the room.

Her thoughts drifted momentarily to her ex, a man whose love, in the end, had felt like a cage—a constriction she could no longer endure. She considered leaving him a note; no words of affection or even respect, just a token to allay any fears of robbery. Yet as she hovered over the desk, pen poised above a blank sheet, a wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Let him worry, she decided. His feeling even an ounce of concern would be a novel twist, and perhaps fitting retribution for the sleepless nights he’d caused her.

The setting sun cast long shadows across the room, the encroaching darkness a subtle mimicry of the unknown path Dakota now trod. The path ahead was filled with both excitement and uncertainty, the unexplored corners of her mind alive with potential dangers and opportunities.

As the papers found their place in her bag, nestled between the realms of history and myth, Dakota felt an unexpected thrill—a shiver of anticipation that trickled down her spine. She imagined Landon's eyes upon her, his dark gaze igniting a familiar fire within her. The thought of their intertwined destinies sent a familiar surge of arousal through her body, the allure of the unknown intensifying the simmering connection between them.

After leaving the house, Dakota locked the door behind her, the soft click serving as a final period on her old life. Each step away from the study drove her deeper into the heart of a mystery only they could unravel together. Dakota knew that with Landon by her side, she was about to embark on a journey of self-discovery that would transcend the ordinary, and lead her to a destiny she could never have imagined.

They left Cimarron Mesa and drove back to Copper Canyon, stopping along the way to have dinner and sleep.

Dakota toyed with the edge of her napkin, her fingers tracing the folds absently as she glanced across the small, dimly lit restaurant. The flicker of candlelight cast a warm glow on Landon’s face, softening the sharp lines of his jaw and the guarded intensity in his eyes. It was quiet here, the kind of place where conversations could linger without interruption, but Dakota’s nerves hummed with everything left unsaid.

She cleared her throat, her voice low. “Landon, can I ask you something?”

His gaze lifted from the longneck bottle of beer in front of him, his brow arching slightly. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

She hesitated, glancing around at the near-empty room as though someone might overhear her. Finally, she forced the words out. “What’s the deal with fated mates? And… the claiming?”

Landon leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak right away, which only made Dakota’s pulse quicken. Finally, he exhaled, his lips quirking in a faint smile. “You don’t go for small talk, do you?”

Her cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze. “Not tonight.”

He nodded, leaning forward, his arms resting on the edge of the table. “All right. Fated mates are… they’re kind of the foundation of who we are. Two people bound by something ancient, something that goes beyond logic. It’s like finding the other half of your soul, even if you didn’t know it was missing. Some shifters don’t wait for their fated mates, and I didn’t believe in them for a long time, but then Briar came along, and I saw how she and Colt just fit together.”

The explanation landed heavily, and Dakota fiddled with the silverware, her thoughts racing. “So, it’s not really a choice then?”

Landon shook his head, his expression serious. “Depends on who you ask. The bond is there whether either mate chooses to acknowledge it, and more than one female has been claimed without her consent. Male shifters are notoriously dominant, but more and more female shifters are refusing to be chattel. The bond may connect two individuals, but it’s the claiming that seals it, makes it real. And once a female bears a claiming bite, most male shifters are reluctant to try to claim her, although it isn’t unheard of, especially if the original claim was not from a fated mate or the female was forced.”

Dakota’s chest tightened, her voice barely above a whisper. “And what happens if the female refuses or avoids being claimed?”

He hesitated, his gaze searching hers, as though deciding how much truth she could handle. “If she isn’t claimed, the bond will remain dormant. But you’ll always feel it, like a shadow. A reminder of what could’ve been.”

Her breath caught at the quiet weight of his words. “And if she’s claimed?”

He leaned closer, his voice low and steady. “It’s everything. The connection, the trust, the instincts—all of it. You become part of each other in a way that’s… permanent, fated.”

Dakota looked down at her untouched plate, her fingers tightening around the edge of the napkin. “And what if she’s not ready for something permanent?”

Landon’s voice softened, the sincerity in his tone catching her off guard. “Depends on the dominant part of the pair. Hopefully he’d be willing to wait, but I won’t tell you that is always what happens. I won’t lie to you. Sometimes primitive instinct takes over, and the bond is forced. But I can tell you that I would not be inclined to force it.”

“Because you’re all noble?” she teased.

“No, because I don’t want to be banished, and I don’t want every she-wolf in our pack coming after me. She-wolves are not, as a group, someone you want to mess with,” he chuckled.

She nodded slowly, her thoughts swirling. The quiet hum of the restaurant faded into the background as she tried to absorb everything he’d said. When she finally looked up, Landon was watching her, his expression calm but open, as though he understood the storm in her head better than she did.

“Thanks for explaining,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“Anytime,” he replied, leaning back again.

As the last light of day surrendered to the night, Dakota embraced her fate, ready to claim her place among the legends.

The following morning, they stepped out into the crisp morning air, and Landon's truck rumbled to life beside her, his presence a reassuring constant in the chaos of her newfound reality. He helped her into the truck, and they began the trip back to the ranch.

The drive back to the ranch was filled with silence that hummed with anticipation. The vast expanse of the open land stretched before them, shrouded in the early morning light. As they pulled up to the homestead, the silhouette of the ranch house loomed large against the darkening sky. It looked different now, not just a structure of wood and stone, but a symbol of her new life, intertwined with Landon and the pack.

Once they’d arrived, Landon said, "Let's get you settled in," the timbre of his voice wrapping around her like a warm blanket. "I think it’s about time your things found a new home...”

“You want me to move into the women’s dormitory?”

“Hardly. Your things belong in my room, our room."

The suggestion, delivered with casual confidence, sent a rush of heat to Dakota's cheeks. She knew what this meant—more than just boxes and suitcases, it was acceptance, belonging, a kind of claim that resonated in the depths of her soul.

"Are you sure?" she asked, uncertainty threading through her words. His gaze met hers, steady and unwavering.

"Sweetheart, I've never been more sure about anything."

Landon's hand brushed against hers as they unloaded her things, each touch sparking an electric current, a connection deeper than she could have imagined. In the privacy of his room, surrounded by the rugged simplicity of his world, Dakota felt a sense of rightness envelop her.

"Ready for the next step?" Landon's eyes held a glint of something wild and untamed as he spoke of shifting, his excitement contagious.

"I think so," Dakota replied, her heart a drumbeat echoing through the quiet room.

“What do you say we go for a run… just the two of us?”

“Do you think we can?”

“I do. First, close your eyes and focus on your own being. Listen to your breathing and the beat of your heart. Find your quiet center and look for your she-wolf. She will be there waiting…”

He guided her through the process of shifting from woman to wolf and back again. His instructions were a soothing cadence that eased her nerves. And then, with the grace of one born to it, Dakota felt her form change, the world reshaping itself as a swirling mist rose up around her and instinct took over.

The sensation was nothing short of miraculous. Her senses sharpened, every scent and sound magnifying. Beside her, Landon shifted, too, his wolf form powerful and majestic. Landon led her out of their room, down the stairs and through the back door, stepping out into the moonlight. With a joyful bark, Landon nipped her flank, play-bowed to her, and then galloped off into the night. Every instinct within Dakota urged her to follow, and she acquiesced, surrendering control to her she-wolf.

The cool night air tingled against Dakota’s fur as she stood on the ridge, her heart pounding from exhilaration. She glanced at Landon, his wolf form towering and sleek, his amber eyes glowing like twin lanterns in the moonlight. For the first time, she truly understood what it meant to feel alive—not just human and alive, but something deeper, primal, and free.

‘Let’s see what you’ve got,’ Landon’s voice echoed in her mind, his flirtatious challenge unmistakable. Without waiting for a response, he bolted down the hill, his paws kicking up a spray of loose earth as he disappeared into the dark meadowland below.

Dakota hesitated before following, her movements clumsy at first. She stumbled, adjusting to the unfamiliar balance of four legs instead of two, but the instincts that had been buried deep within her surged to the surface. Within seconds, she was flying across the terrain, her paws gliding over the ground with growing confidence.

Landon slowed just enough to let her catch up, his form a blur of sable and silver weaving effortlessly between the trees. The night came alive around them—the scrunch of leaves underfoot, the distant hoot of an owl, and the scent of pine mingling with the musky aroma of the earth. Every sound, every smell, every sensation was amplified, flooding Dakota’s senses in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating.

She barked, a joyful, triumphant sound, and leapt over a fallen log, her body soaring effortlessly through the air. Landon turned his head to glance at her, and she swore there was pride in his gaze. ‘Not bad for a first-timer,’ she heard him say in her mind.

‘I’m just getting started,’ she shot back, the words ringing with newfound confidence.

She charged ahead, her she-wolf cutting through the forest like a shadow. For the first time in years, perhaps her life, she was free of the secrets, the loss, the loneliness. She wasn’t running away from anything tonight. She was running toward something: freedom, belonging, and the wild, untamed connection she felt with Landon.

When they finally stopped at the edge of a stream, their breath came out in white puffs, mingling with the mist rising off the water. Landon stepped closer, nudging her shoulder with his muzzle, a silent acknowledgment of her triumph.

‘You’re a natural,’ he said, his tone softer now, the teasing gone.

Dakota gazed at the moon’s reflection in the water. She felt the warmth of his presence beside her, the steady thrum of his heartbeat in sync with her own. In this form, she wasn’t just Dakota Westwood, the woman with a past full of unanswered questions. She was something more.

‘I think I was always meant to be this,’ she murmured.

‘You were,’ Landon replied. ‘And now you are.’

The night stretched on, a tapestry woven with threads of mystery and moonlight, the bond between her and Landon growing stronger with every heartbeat. It was an exploration of shadows and understanding, a slow burn of connection that promised more—an uncharted path they would explore together.

As dawn approached, painting the horizon with streaks of amber and gold, Dakota and Landon returned to their room, shifting back, taking a shower, and falling into bed.

She woke to find Landon rolling on top of her, nuzzling her and nudging her legs apart before settling himself between her thighs.

"Claim me," she whispered against his lips, her voice laced with need and certainty. They had been moving towards this since she first arrived at the ranch, two souls inexorably drawn together by a force neither fully understood.

Landon's response was a growl that vibrated through them both, an affirmation that resonated with the depth of his desire. His eyes, dark pools of emotion, locked onto hers as he shifted his weight, bracing himself above her. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, piercing and possessive, yet filled with an the promise of protection and belonging.

Dakota’s nipples were pebbled and incredibly sensitive. The callouses on his hands spoke of a life lived working for a living. He was no trust fund college boy. This was a serious cowboy, with serious intentions and what felt like an incredibly serious cock.

“Are you sure?”

Landon kissed her like he couldn’t get enough, nibbling gently on her lower lip before giving it a sharp nip that she felt rocket from her mouth in a straight line to her pussy. He was sex on a stick, and he wanted her… She wanted him in a way she had never wanted what’s his name.

She couldn’t find the words, so she did the only thing she could think to do; she relaxed and melted against him, rubbing herself on the muscled thigh between her legs. Her hands moved up to his shoulders so she could steady herself, but she knew in her soul he would never let her fall. His hand slipped between them.

Her sex was dripping with desire, aching for his touch. He pinned her to the bed and ravished her mouth with his hungry kisses, trailing down her jaw and neck until he reached her breasts. With expert skill, he teased and pleasured her soft flesh, flicking his tongue over her sensitive nipples, causing her body to tremble with need.

Dakota moaned and tangled her fingers in his hair as he continued downward, exploring every inch of her body with his lips and tongue. He devoured her with a fierce passion that made her squirm and writhe beneath him. She had never experienced such intense pleasure before.

"Your scent drives me wild," he growled, before delving between her legs. His tongue danced over her throbbing clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She had been deprived of this kind of pleasure for far too long, but Landon knew exactly how to make her scream.

Unlike others before him who had been selfish lovers, Landon was solely focused on satisfying Dakota's desires. He expertly worked his way back up to her swollen nub, bringing her to another explosive climax before plunging his fingers deep inside her core, curling them just right to hit all the right spots.

Dakota was lost in a haze of pleasure as Landon's skilled mouth and hands drove her wild. Her previous lover was not skilled in the art of oral pleasure, but Landon knew just how to make her explode with delight.

"Good girl," he rumbled against her thigh, setting off another round of shivers through her body.

As he positioned himself between her legs, she felt the hard length of him pressing against her entrance. And when he finally filled her completely, she knew she had never been so thoroughly satisfied. Landon moved with a confident rhythm that left no doubt that he knew how to please a woman. Each thrust brought her closer to the edge, and when she begged him again to claim her, he obliged with powerful, primal thrusts.

He gripped her tightly as he increased his pace, driving her body into a frenzy of pleasure. She wrapped her legs around him, taking in every inch of his hard staff. And when he sank his teeth into her neck, marking her as his own, she was driven over the edge one last time as they both found release in each other's embrace.

The claiming bite stung in a way that transcended pain, a sacred mark that signified her place in his life, in the pack, and in the world of shifters she was now part of. There was no shock of transformation, no convulsion of change—she had always been a wolf, and her body accepted the claim as if it were a missing piece finally slotted into place.

As Landon's essence flowed into her, mingling with her own, something unexpected occurred. Deep within him, a stirring began, an awakening of latent power that coursed through his veins like wildfire. Unbeknownst to either of them, Dakota's heritage belonged to an ancient and powerful dire wolf line. With the claiming, her superior genetics had not only embraced the bond but also shared their gifts with Landon.

He shuddered above her, a tremor that spoke of transformations unseen. Dakota reached up to touch his face, tracing the lines of strain that even pleasure couldn't erase. As his cock stiffened inside her, he began to move again, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge; there was an undercurrent of something wilder, more powerful than before.

"Are you okay?" she murmured, concern threading through the haze of her arousal.

"Better than okay," he grunted, his voice rough with emotion and a burgeoning strength that mirrored her own.

They climaxed together, a crescendo of sensation that seemed to shake the very foundation of the earth. In the aftermath, as they clung to each other, panting and spent, the reality of what had just occurred settled around them like dust after a storm. They were claimed, connected by a bond that was as mysterious as it was unbreakable.