Page 14 of Mated By Sunrise

Caleb’s steps slowed. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area. There was no immediate danger, no sign of distress. But the air felt off, charged with something he couldn’t quite place. And then he caught her scent.

There was something off about it. She wasn’t scared. But she didn’t smell quite right either. His wolf bristled, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Something was wrong.

His heart rate quickened, his body tensing as he moved closer. His footsteps were silent now as he approached the bank. His instincts, honed from years of being an enforcer, kicked in, every muscle in his body coiling with readiness. He reached the door and paused, his senses flaring. He could hear voices—her voice, soft but strained—and then the low, oily tone of someone else.

He sniffed. He knew no one in town would dare touch her. But this person, this human, didn't smell familiar.

Caleb’s teeth ground together. His wolf was on high alert now. It paced just beneath the surface, ready to pounce. He heard the man’s voice—too close, too casual, like he had every right to be near Caleb's mate. Caleb didn’t wait another second.

He pushed open the door, the cool air of the bank mixing with the heat of his fury. His eyes locked on the scene in front of him. Rochelle sat at her desk, her body rigid with tension, her eyes wide and uncertain as the human male stood over her. The man's hand brushed against the edge of her desk. The sight of him—so close to her, too close—sent a wave of red-hot rage coursing through Caleb’s veins.

The growl that escaped Caleb’s throat was low, guttural, and unmistakably dangerous.

“Let me take care of you.”

That was Caleb's job. His wolf surged forward, every muscle in his body coiling with the instinct to protect her, to claim her, to remind everyone in this town that she was his—whether she had accepted the bond or not.

The man’s face drained of color. His pupils went wide, filling with fear as he took in the sight of Caleb standing there—more wolf than man, his eyes glowing with barely contained fury.

“Get out.” Caleb didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The dominance in his tone was enough to send a shiver through the air, making it clear that the human's presence was not only unwelcome—it was in serious danger of being snuffed out.

The man took a step back, stumbling slightly as he tried to move away from Rochelle. He glanced at her, then back at Caleb, fear plastered across his face. Without another word, he bolted from the room, practically tripping over himself in his rush to escape. The door slammed behind him, the sound sharp and jarring in the tense silence that followed.

Caleb stood there, his heart still pounding, his wolf still pushing against his control. But when his eyes finally met Rochelle’s, everything inside him stilled.

Her breath was uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t look away. She didn’t push him back. Instead, she just looked at him, her brown eyes wide and vulnerable, as if the walls she had so carefully built were starting to crumble.

Neither of them said a word. The bond between them thrummed with life, stronger now than it had been in years. The pull of it drew him to her, even though they had spent so long pretending it didn’t exist. His wolf wanted to claim her, to close the distance between them, to remind her that she was his—even if she had denied it.

Caleb had never forced the bond. He had never pushed her into accepting what was between them. And yet, standing here now, with her so close, her scent wrapping around him like a warm blanket, it was impossible to ignore.

He turned to go.

She didn't call out to him. But she did reach out to him. For the first time in… well, forever, Rochelle came to him. She leaned into his presence, her body melting into him, as if she had beenholding herself together for too long. Caleb’s heart clenched at the sight of her, so strong and yet so fragile in this moment.

He held her, giving her the comfort she needed. She didn't smell afraid. She could've handled that human. She smelled… sad. But that scent was leaching away the tighter he held her.

The pull between them was too strong, the bond too alive. He didn’t want to spook her, didn’t want her to shut him out again. Then she said the three words he'd been waiting all his life to hear from her.

"Take me home."

CHAPTER TWELVE

The night was quiet as Rochelle and Caleb walked side by side. At some point, she reached for his hand. She felt the tremor in it. Then a jerk. Was he going to pull away from her?

She held her breath as she watched him look around. Then she realized what he was doing. He was looking for witnesses.

Rochelle had never acknowledged her feelingsforhim. She'd never acknowledged her feelingstohim. They just had sex in private, hidden away like a dirty little secret.

Caleb could be a dirty boy. She loved that about him. Loved it. She loved him.

She twined her fingers around his, covering his tremors with her certainty. The town around them was still, with only the soft hum of crickets and the distant music from the Moon Festival carrying on the cool evening air. Everyone else was there, celebrating beneath the full moon, lost in the revelry of pack traditions. Rochelle didn’t want to be anywhere else but with Caleb.

The warmth of his palm grounded her in a way that both soothed and unsettled her. They had always existed on the edges of each other's lives, orbiting in the same world but neverquite stepping fully into one another’s space. Tonight would be different.

Her house came into view, the small porch bathed in soft moonlight. Caleb’s pace slowed, his steps hesitant as they reached the stoop. She glanced at him, her stomach twisting when she saw the tension in his expression. His gaze flickered to the front door, then to her, and she realized with a sudden jolt that he had never been inside her home. She had never invited him in.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, the soft glow of the porch light casting shadows over Caleb’s face. He looked at her, his brow furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line.