Chapter 5

5

E lijah’s breath was ragged as he held her close. His mate's body was pressed tightly against his. His mind swirled, struggling to grasp the intensity of what they’d just shared, but his body was acutely aware—too aware—of every inch of her.

The taste of her lingered on his lips, sweet and wild, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He ached to capture even more of her, to pull her essence deeper into him, as if he could drink her in and never let go.

He could fuck her again.

He could kiss her again.

He could peel off every layer of clothing and see her naked body for the first time.

Or he could do all three. Yeah, he liked that idea.

The thought flickered through him, sharp and tempting. His gaze dropped to her lips, still flushed and swollen from their kiss. He’d never felt anything like this before—this magnetic pull that made him forget every reason why he shouldn’t want her.

Maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this fated mate thing. The bond between them hummed. It was alive and insistent. For the first time, he didn’t feel the urge to fight it.

But he had to know more. He had to know her.

Gently, he pulled back. His heart was still racing. His hands rested at her waist lightly. He didn't feel a need to hold on when he knew in his soul that he had her.

His voice came out soft, almost hesitant, as though speaking might shatter the fragile moment between them. "I suppose I should introduce myself."

"After fucking me blind? Yeah, that might be the polite thing to do."

He chuckled at that. Thank the gods his mate had a sense of humor. "I’m Elijah. Elijah Blackwood," he said, offering a small, lopsided smile. "I’m an Enforcer in the Ironwood Wolf Pack."

There was something almost surreal in the way he introduced himself. As if it didn’t matter who he was—because, right now, all that mattered was her. He realized he wanted her to be proud of him. He wanted her to think he was something special. It was clear just from the looks of her that she was something special.

Her golden brown skin glowed in the moonlight. Her thick hair tumbled in wild waves around her, the dark strands catching the light like silk, framing her face in a way that made his breath hitch. Her eyes were deep and expressive, filled with a vulnerability that mirrored his own, yet they sparkled with a quiet strength, a resilience that made him ache to know more. The way she looked at him, like she saw past the surface, past the layers of duty and expectations, made something inside him shift.

And that smile—gods, that smile. It was like watching the sun break through the clouds, bright and breathtaking, warming him from the inside out. He wanted to be the reason she smiled like that every day.

Maybe settling down to mate wouldn't be so bad, especially if it got him an advancement in the pack. He wanted to advance.

For her.

He wanted to be the best man he could be.

For her.

He watched her closely, noting the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she exhaled. Her eyes softened, a brief flicker of something unreadable passing through them. The connection still thrummed in the air.

"I’m Celine," she said, her voice quieter now, though steady. "Celine Vance. I’m... an artist."

Celine. An artist. Celine, the artist.

A grin tugged at his lips. One of the reasons he hadn't wanted a mate was because he'd seen it happen too often that opposites attracted. He'd assumed he'd have a serious woman. Someone focused on duty and the rigid traditions of pack life. He hadn’t imagined this.

His fated mate was an artist. Creative, expressive, likely filled with lightness. She was pure light as he gazed down at her in the moonlight.

She wouldn't mind that he didn't always take things too seriously. She wouldn't mind that he flirted. Because now he'd only flirt with her. And she'd laugh. He couldn't wait to hear her laugh.

“An artist,” he repeated, almost playfully, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “And here I thought I’d be saddled with someone serious.”

"I am serious." She scowled. "Serious about my art."

When she smiled, there was a brief flash of warmth that did something strange to his chest. It made him feel lighter, more grounded all at once. But then, as if a shadow had passed over the moon, something shifted inside him.

Vance? The name echoed in his mind. Faint at first. But the warning bells grew louder, more insistent. Celine Vance.

The fog of desire lifted, just enough for the realization to creep in.

Vance.

His mind connected the dots. The image of her smile now overlapped with the cold, sharp reality of what he knew about the Sequoia Pack. The Sequoia Alpha was named Vance. Micah Vance.

And Celine... Celine was the name of the woman who was supposed to marry his Alpha.

The shock hit Elijah like a sledgehammer to the chest. It stole his breath. He stiffened, his muscles tensing beneath his skin as his wolf growled in warning. His heart, which had moments ago been pounding with desire, now pounded with panic. His thoughts crashed together in a frantic mess. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, threatening to crush him.

No. No, no, no.

“Celine... Vance,” he repeated, his voice now edged with disbelief, the warmth from before vanishing in an instant. His mind raced as he replayed the name again, over and over, as if trying to make sense of it.

Celine frowned, confusion flickering across her face. “Yes. Is something wrong?”

Yes, something was wrong. His hand was still under her skirt. His fingers were still tangled in the wet heat of her pleasure. Elijah had the urge to straighten out her panties that he'd shoved to the side, almost like he was going to put a half-bitten cookie back in the cookie jar. Instead, he yanked his hand from under her dress.

Then he rolled away from her. As he did, his semi-hard cock sprang to attention. He reached down and shoved that hungry monster back into his pants. He winced at the discomfort. Served him right. He'd just fucked his Alpha's bride.

Elijah hoped to his feet. His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out everything but the one undeniable truth that now loomed over them like a dark storm cloud. He looked down at her lovely face. Part of him wanted to dive back into her. But he couldn't.

She wasn’t just anyone. She was the woman who was supposed to be promised to his Alpha.

This was a disaster.

“I—” He stumbled over his words, his body already moving before his mind could catch up. “I can’t... We can’t?—”

He stepped back, his heart hammering, the air between them thick with confusion and regret. He had to go. Now.

"This never happened."

"Elijah?" she called after him as he began to walk away, the hurt rising in his ears.

He couldn't glance back at her. If he did, he'd go to her. And then… what?

Elijah bolted into the trees, his legs moving faster than his thoughts. His wolf howled in protest, but Elijah couldn’t stay, couldn’t face the impossible situation that had just been thrown at him.

Because no matter how much his wolf wanted her, no matter how much his body screamed for her, Elijah knew he couldn’t have her.