Chapter 3 The Bond
Levi
The scent of her hasn’t left the air.
I lean against the bar, pretending to study the room, but my attention never strays far from the woman in green. Aurora Anderson.
Reporter. Problem. Temptation.
Every instinct I own says to walk away. She’s human, off-limits, fragile, a headline waiting to happen. But Koda prowls beneath my skin, restless and hungry, whispering one word I swore I’d never hear again.
Mate.
I tighten my grip around the glass until the it cracks.
It’s impossible. Humans don’t bond with wolves. It’s biology, not destiny. Still, when she laughs, the sound curls through me like heat.
Her dress catches the light as she spins with her friend, and the glow of the chandelier paints her hair the color of sunset. The pull sharpens, a current running from my chest straight to the part of me that’s already too aware of her.
Koda pushes forward, a low growl rumbling at the edge of my control.
Claim her.
Not yet. Not ever.
I take a slow breath, but her scent fills it, floral and warm and alive. It isn’t lust, not exactly; it’s recognition, and that’s worse. I’ve spent my life mastering control, and now one human woman threatens to unravel it with a single glance.
She turns, eyes finding mine across the crowd. For one heartbeat, everything stops: the music, the voices, the distance between us.
My pulse answers hers.
The wolf inside me stops pacing and bows.
I know then that I’ve already lost.
The gala’s noise swells again, but it sounds distant, like I’m underwater.
Koda paces behind my ribs, every muscle straining toward her. I finish what’s left of my drink and taste metal instead of scotch.
Control, that’s what I’m known for. Boardrooms, negotiations, wars between packs… I always keep the upper hand. Yet one human woman, with laughter in her voice and questions in her eyes, is undoing me cell by cell.
"She doesn’t even know what you are, Koda growls. How could she?"
Exactly. That should make walking away easier. It doesn’t.
The room spun slightly as I leaned against the bar, my gaze locked on Aurora like a predator tracking its prey. She was a vision in emerald green, the dress hugging her curves before cascading to the floor, the backless design revealing smooth, pale skin that begged to be touched.
Her dark blond hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and those hazel green eyes, they sparkled with intelligence and a hint of mischief. I knew why she was here. Investigative journalist, sniffing around for fraud and embezzlement.
She’s built of contradictions, graceful but guarded, soft around the edges but steel underneath. The kind of woman who believes every truth can be found if you just dig deep enough.
What she doesn’t understand is that some truths bury you alive.
My wolf doesn’t care. He only sees the curve of her throat, the pulse beating there, the scent that intoxicates me more than the drink in my hand.
I should be terrified. Instead, I’m fascinated.
I watched her move through the crowd, her laughter echoing like a siren’s call. She was dancing with her friend, the two of them twirling under the chandelier’s glow. Her friend's red dress clashed with Aurora’s green, but it only made her stand out more.
I felt the pull of her, the way her body moved with a grace that spoke of untapped passion. The music thrummed through my veins, a primal rhythm that matched the beat of my heart.
When the song ended, I approached her. The air seemed to thicken as I closed the distance, her scent, floral and honey, teasing my senses.
“Care for a drink?” I asked, my voice low and smooth, laced with the confidence of an alpha.
She hesitated, her journalist instincts warring with her desire. I saw the conflict in her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to refuse. But then Maggie nudged her, whispering something that made Aurora laugh. She nodded, and I smirked, already tasting victory.
The moment stretches while she decides whether to trust me. I can see the war behind her eyes, curiosity against caution. She finally nods, and something inside me snaps like a line pulled too tight.
The crowd parts around us as I lead her toward the quiet end of the ballroom. We sat at a secluded table, My wolf settles for the first time all night, content just to have her near.
The pull isn’t lust anymore; it’s gravity. Everything else feels peripheral.
The clinking of glasses and murmur of conversations fading into the background. I ordered her a martini, dry, just the way I imagined she’d like it. The bartender placed it before her, the olive dangling from the rim like a promise.
She sipped it slowly, her eyes meeting mine over the glass. “You’re not supposed to be drinking on the job,” I teased, my thumb brushing the edge of her glass.
“Neither are you,” she fired back, her tone playful but sharp. I laughed, a deep rumble that made her cheeks flush. Her wit was as sharp as her eyes,
It’s rare for anyone to challenge me. Most people stumble over titles Alpha, CEO, Kingston but she speaks to me like I’m just a man who happens to be sitting too close. The honesty disarms me more than any flirtation could.
Koda hums in approval.
"She’s fire. Don’t let her burn alone."
I drown him out with another drink. Fire and wolves never end well.
I found myself drawn to her intelligence. We talked about the gala, about Seattle, about nothing and everything. The alcohol loosened her tongue, and I learned more about her than any investigation could reveal.
She was sharp, witty, and fearless. And she was looking at me like she wanted to devour me.
By the third drink, I was ready to make my move.
The night slides forward, smooth and inevitable. Laughter fades into murmurs; the orchestra softens into jazz.
Outside the tall windows, rain begins to fall, a soft percussion against the glass. It smells like home like the forests I grew up in before the city dulled the scent of pine.
She watches the drops race down the pane, her reflection caught beside mine. For a heartbeat, it feels like we’ve known each other longer than a single dance.
“Come with me,” I said, standing and offering her my hand. Her eyes flickered to Maggie, who gave her a thumbs-up and a wink.
Aurora took my hand, her fingers slender and warm in mine. I led her through the crowd, my arm brushing hers, my scent musk and pine, lingering in the air. Her pulse quickened, and I could feel her desire like a current between
The bond hums louder now, a live wire beneath my skin. I tell myself it’s just attraction, that I can stop whenever I choose.
But even as I lead her away from the noise, a darker truth curls in my chest.
I’m not choosing anymore. She is.