Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

KNOX

T he night draped over Knox like a shroud as he prowled through the shadows of the sleeping town, the moon a slender crescent casting its pale, silvery light. The air was thick with the scent of impending rain, the quiet broken only by the distant hoot of an owl. He moved with purpose yet hesitated upon reaching the edge of his own property, his gaze lingering in the direction of Ruby's place, where the windows glowed softly in the darkness.

Knox felt the pull, a magnetic draw tethering him to her. The mating bond was only supposed to spring into place once a bear had claimed his mate, but the bond between fated mates was said to be stronger. Already he could feel an indication as to what her emotions were. He strove for calm while wrestling with the tempest that raged within. He had always been a creature of control, but the emotions Ruby stirred in him were wild and uncharted—a siren’s song tempting him toward the rocks of forbidden desire.

"Ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, the words dispersing into the cool air. It was ludicrous to think that someone like Ruby, with her fierce independence and human fragility, could be destined for him. Yet every cell in his body screamed that it was true. She was his fated mate, and denying it was like trying to keep the falls from tumbling over the edge of the cliff with his bare hands.

He recalled how her laughter seemed to hang in the air and how her eyes sparkled with mirth and intelligence. Knox let out a ragged sigh, imagining the softness of her skin, the warmth of her touch. The memory of her lips on his, so sweet and intoxicating, lingered like a phantom caress, and he shuddered with the effort it took not to turn back.

"Focus," he chastised himself, his voice a low growl that slipped into the night. He needed to keep his distance, to maintain the boundaries that would keep her safe from the dangers that lurked within him and around them. He was the protector of this clan, bound by duty and ancient laws that did not take kindly to the entanglement of their kind with humans.

The wind picked up, carrying with it the promise of a storm, and Knox lifted his head, nostrils flaring as he scented the change in the atmosphere. It mirrored the tumult inside him—a storm of longing, duty, and fear. Fear of what might happen if he gave in to the primal urge to claim her, to let the world see just how deeply she affected him.

"Get a grip," he whispered to the void, his voice a juxtaposition of command and plea. He would uphold the line between them. For her safety. For the town’s peace. For the sake of his own tormented soul.

But as he turned away, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken yearnings, the rustle of leaves beneath his boots seemed to mock him. There was no escaping the truth that lay coiled within, ready to strike. Ruby was his fated mate, and no amount of denial could sever the bond that fate had forged. It was a haunting melody that played on a loop in his mind, a tune as old as the mountains themselves, singing of unity, passion, and the inevitable surrender to the mating call.

Knox strode through the starry night toward his clan’s compound, the moon’s silvery light filtering through the trees, his mind a labyrinth of haunting desires and unyielding duty. The kiss, searing and potent, lingered on his lips like a forbidden spell. He felt the ghost of Ruby's touch against his skin, the heat from her body igniting a fire within him that he struggled to contain.

The taste of her, wild and sweet, taunted his senses as he moved with purposeful strides, attempting to distance himself from the siren call that beckoned him back to her doorstep. It was an exercise in futility; every fiber of his being vibrated with the knowledge that she was his mate. Yet, the undeniable truth clashed with the harsh reality of their existence—hers, that of a human with dreams and plans, and his, that of a guardian of shadows sworn to protect the delicate balance between their worlds.

As the first drops of rain began to fall, mingling with the earthy scent of petrichor, Knox found himself entering the compound, the outdoor lanterns a beacon in the darkness. With a resigned sigh, he pushed open the door, the bell above jingling softly, announcing his presence.

"Evenin', Knox," called one of his men on patrol, a knowing look in his eyes. "Heard there's a council meeting tonight. Hope they're not going to give you too much trouble about Lorraine’s niece and the old lodge."

Knox's jaw tightened imperceptibly, the reminder of the council's watchful gaze bringing forth the image of Ruby once again—her fiery spirit, the way she challenged him, and the fierce determination in her eyes. He mustered a nonchalant response, shrugging off the concern. "Just regular town business, nothing to worry about."

“I heard she was on the agenda.”

“No doubt they want to discuss her plan to turn Lorraine’s place into a bed and breakfast.”

But the seed of unease had been planted. His interactions with Ruby were under scrutiny, their fates intertwined yet dangling precariously on the edge of a knife. The thought of her becoming a pawn in the council's games solidified his resolve. He would maintain his distance, cast aside the temptation to seek her out, to taste those lips once more.

"Keep an eye out. Some of the outer patrols have either seen what appears to be scouts or signs of them," Knox said, diverting the conversation away from dangerous ground. As he entered the lodge, his gaze wandered to the windows across the front of his family home, where the rain now lashed against the panes, blurring the world outside into a watercolor of shadow and light.

He knew the path he had to walk wouldn’t be easy, both for his heart and for the safety of all he held dear. But as the storm raged on, Knox could not shake the feeling that no matter how far he ran, destiny had already marked its course, entwining his fate with Ruby's in ways he could neither predict nor control.

The council chamber was in the heart of the town hall. The council members sat on a raised dais behind a semi-circular table. The light from the overhead fixtures cast an eerie dance across stern faces. Knox stood as a pillar among his people at the back of the room, his own expression betraying none of the tempestuous emotions that battled beneath his stoic facade. The scent of aged wood and the whispers of his kin filled the air, a restless energy pulsing through the room.

"Ms. Edwards’ plan for the bed and breakfast is ambitious," a councilor said, skepticism lacing his tone. "But is it prudent to allow such... alterations to our town?"

Knox felt the weight of many eyes come to rest on him, as if looking for answers echoing in the silence. He cleared his throat, every muscle tensed like a coiled spring. "Her vision brings new life, new opportunities. I think it could provide a lot of people with choices that they might not have otherwise. Outsiders will see only charm, not secrets, and bring their money to spend. There are other towns comprised of shifters where outsiders and humans are welcome. Both Mystic River and Otter Cove up in Alaska come to mind. Why should we be any different?"

A murmur of contemplation rustled through the ranks, some heads nodding while others remained unmoved. His defense of Ruby had been strategic, coated with concern for the town rather than revealing the depth of his personal investment.

After the meeting adjourned, Coco approached him, giving him a knowing glance. "Be careful," she murmured, her voice low. "The council’s got its eye on you. Don't let them see you getting all mushy over a human."

The warning struck a chord deep within Knox, resonating with the fear he'd been trying to stifle. It wasn't just their laws or traditions that held him back; it was the unspoken understanding that any sign of weakness could unravel the delicate balance they had maintained for centuries.

As the council members dispersed into the night, the echo of Coco’s words lingered in Knox's mind, reinforcing the barrier he'd vowed to uphold between himself and Ruby. No more indulgences. No more stolen glances nor savory bites of her cooking that tied his senses in knots.

With a resolve as chilling as the draft that swept through the emptying hall, Knox decided that the distance between them would grow. He would retreat from her warmth, deny himself the taste of her culinary magic, and abstain from the intoxication of her presence. Even as his soul rebelled against the notion, he knew that the line he drew now was one of necessity.

As he stepped outside, the crisp night air bit at his skin, but the cold within was far more penetrating. The streets lay deserted, shrouded in mist, as if the very atmosphere conspired to remind him of the isolation he had chosen. Each step away from city hall was another step further from Ruby, and Knox felt the pull of his fated mate straining against the chains he wrapped around his desire. But those chains would have to hold firm—for the security of his clan, for Ruby, and for the secrecy and strength that shifters depended on to keep their mysteries veiled.

Knox stalked through the shadow-draped streets of the sleeping town, his boots silent on the cobblestones. The moon, a slender crescent, hung like a claw in the velvet sky, offering scant illumination but plenty of brooding ambience. Each step he took was a deliberate march away from passion and fate, a physical manifestation of the emotional chasm he forced wider with every passing second.

The night air, laced with the scent of wildflowers and rain, teased at his heightened senses. It whispered of hidden things, of Ruby's silent call to the wildness within him. And yet, Knox wrapped himself in the cool cloak of detachment, a shield against the fiery allure of his mate.

His fated mate. The term itself was a contradiction, evoking both salvation and damnation with its insidious tendrils. It was an ancient magic, one that knotted their souls together, unseen but irrefutable. But what use was fate when it bound you to an impossible love? To a woman whose very existence could unravel the tapestry of secrets he was honor-bound to protect?

An owl hooted from the skeletal branches overhead, its call mournful and haunting. Knox paused, tilting his head to listen to the night’s lament. The creature was a kindred spirit, solitary and observant—a guardian in its own right. He understood the owl's duty, for his own was etched in the marrow of his bones, as inescapable as the night itself.

He would not seek Ruby out. He would not taste the sweetness of her laughter nor bask in the radiance of her smile. He would eschew the comfort of her lodge, the hearth that beckoned like a beacon of home in his storm-tossed world. Instead, he would walk the periphery, the outskirts where shadows reigned, and his presence could be but a whisper against the din of normalcy.

He diverted from the short way home to pass by Ruby's just to ensure she was safe, however, allowing himself the fleeting touch of masochism. He inhaled deeply, catching the residual warmth of baked sourdough bread—a ghost of her culinary embrace—and gnashed his teeth. In that moment, he was a man starved, not of sustenance, but of the tender mercy found only in the arms of one's destined love.

The yearning was a specter swiftly banished by the stern hand of duty. His resolve was his fortress, each stone laid by necessity, mortared with sacrifice. For what was the heart's desire against the weight of centuries-old secrecy? What were his dreams compared to the safety of his clan and the town they had all sworn to preserve?

As the distance between him and Ruby’s grew, so too did the intricate dance of avoidance. Knox vowed that Ruby would know him only as the inscrutable handyman. Nothing more. And in that vow, he buried the last embers of a forbidden fire, smothering them beneath layers of stoic duty.

For in a world where passion and peril were intertwined like the thorny vines that crept up the sides of ancient cliffs, Knox chose the path of the sentinel—ever watchful, forever longing, and eternally alone.