Kaelen's Pull

POV: Kaelen

"Would you care to dance?" I ask, utilizing my most charming smile to carefully mask the intense, swirling internal confusion I am currently experiencing.

Calla hesitates for a long, agonizing moment. The live string quartet plays a slow, sweeping melody in the background, but all I can focus on is the rapid, nervous thumping of her heartbeat. She looks visibly bewildered, her wide stormy grey eyes staring up at me as if she cannot comprehend my request. Finally, she softly whispers, "Sure."

I gently take her delicate hand in my large, calloused palm. The sheer difference in our sizes is jarring. As soon as our bare skin connects, a bizarre, inexplicable, magnetic pull violently draws me toward her. The sensation hits my chest like a physical blow. I lead her out onto the crowded dance floor, expertly navigating past laughing couples and swaying bodies until we find an open spot. I place my right hand on her lower back. She is incredibly petite. My hand rests a bit higher than usual just to accommodate her small frame. Beneath the intricate lace of her purple dress, her hourglass shape is highly alluring. The fabric clings tightly to her narrow waist before flaring out over her soft hips, giving me a perfect outline of her body.

The magnetic pull is perfectly accompanied by her scent. The overwhelmingly comforting and intoxicating aroma of wild honeysuckle radiates from her warm skin. I breathe it in deeply, letting the sweet fragrance settle into my lungs and soothe the restless energy buzzing in my veins. However, as we step fully into the bright light of the crystal chandeliers, a harsh reality slaps me across the face. The dark, jagged, claiming mating mark resting starkly on the side of her neck serves as a glaring, undeniable reminder. She belongs to someone else. She is entirely off-limits.

Inside my mind, I aggressively interrogate my inner wolf. *Varg, do you sense anything?* I demand, desperately trying to comprehend this bizarre, magnetic attraction pulling us toward another male's mate.

*Yep, sure do. It's in your pants,* Varg chuckles crudely, his feral nature bleeding through our mental link.

I grit my teeth. My mate tragically passed away two and a half years ago. Varg and I have been entirely starved for intimacy ever since. We haven't taken a lover or a chosen mate since her sudden death. My wolf is clearly starved for a female's touch and incredibly horny right now, but I know this is exceptionally dangerous territory.

*Focus,* I severely scold my wolf. *She is mated. She is Alpha Garret's daughter. We cannot make a misstep here. We are the Valerius Guard. We enforce wolf law. We do not break it just because we feel a pull.*

Varg sighs, dropping his inappropriate jokes. *I got nothing. There are absolutely no divine mate sparks present between us. Usually, a true mate bond hits like a lightning strike. I just feel an undeniable, soothing calm when we touch her. And that overwhelmingly addictive honeysuckle scent is driving me crazy. But I did notice something very odd about her.*

*What is it?* I ask silently as I gently sway Calla to the rhythm of the music.

*Her wolf spirit,* Varg replies, his tone turning dead serious. *She radiates the heavy, majestic aura of a Luna. I can feel the sheer power of her spirit pressing against mine. Yet she is clearly not mated to an Alpha. It makes absolutely no sense.*

I look down at Calla. I need to break this suffocating tension between us with polite conversation. "I see you are part of Alpha Torin's Iron Wolf pack," I say casually, trying to sound genuinely interested. "What originally brought you there?"

The second the words leave my mouth, I instantly regret the incredibly dumb question. I know the obvious answer. Her mate brought her there.

Calla visibly stiffens in my arms. The soft muscles in her back go completely rigid under my palm. She turns her head, completely avoiding my intense gaze as she delivers a rehearsed, guarded explanation. "My mate was born in the Iron Wolf Pack," she recites smoothly. "Alpha Torin is a good Alpha, and he and my father have started some business dealings, so hopefully, our pack will be growing."

She looks at the polished wooden floor, the decorative walls, the other guests—anywhere but at my face. But I desperately want to see her eyes again. The swirling depths of her stormy grey eyes captivate me. They remind me of dark storm clouds rolling fiercely over the jagged mountain peaks. Entirely captivated by her unique beauty, I completely lose my focus. Without thinking, I tighten my grip on her narrow waist and inadvertently pull her petite body flush against my own. Her soft breasts press firmly against my hard chest.

Sensing the danger of our proximity, Calla gasps. She brings her small hands up and gently but firmly pushes my chest away, establishing a physical boundary.

Panicking internally at my sheer lack of control, I instantly release her waist. "I am sorry," I stammer, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. "I was deep in thought and lost myself for a moment. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Calla takes a quick step back, creating a safe distance between us. She quickly mumbles an excuse. "I need to go and check on the kitchen staff." She doesn't wait for my response. She practically vanishes from the dance floor, pushing swiftly through the heavy stainless-steel double doors leading back to the kitchens.

I stand completely alone on the dance floor, my head spinning in absolute confusion. Couples continue to dance around me, but I am frozen in place. This is not a mate bond. So what the hell is this powerful pull?

Desperate to seek a physical distraction from my racing thoughts, I leave the floor and head directly to the massive buffet line set up against the far wall of the ballroom. I need food to ground myself.

*You are a man. Food and sex keep us going,* Varg points out unhelpfully in my mind.

*You are disgusting sometimes. How did you become an Alpha Wolf spirit with that attitude?* I roll my eyes at him. Varg is a joker, but he is a great spirit who loves our pack. Still, his feral instincts are hard to control right now.

I grab a clean ceramic plate. For some inexplicable reason, I feel overwhelmingly compelled to bypass the massive trays of roasted meats. Instead, I grab a large serving of creamy alfredo pasta and reach for the freshly baked butter rolls sitting in a woven basket. I want to hoard the entire basket of bread for myself and refuse to share it with anyone. I shake the weird, possessive urge off and just take one pillowy roll.

I walk over to the head table and sit down heavily next to my Gamma, Cassian. I pick up the butter roll and take a large bite. Instantly, my mouth is flooded with the distinct, sweet and salty taste of wild honeysuckle. The flavor heavily coats my tongue, perfectly matching the intoxicating scent of her skin.

Bewildered, I turn to Cassian. "Do you taste the honeysuckle in these?" I ask, holding up the half-eaten bread. "They are amazing."

Cassian stops chewing his meat and looks at me sideways. He is entirely perplexed by my question. "Alpha, what are you talking about? It's just a butter dinner roll. There is absolutely no honeysuckle in them."

The realization hits me like a massive freight train. Earlier today, I saw Calla walking with Luna Sabine. I remember noticing white flour dusted all over Calla's jeans. She had made these rolls with her own bare hands. Her pure essence is so incredibly strong that it literally permeated the food she prepared. I can physically taste her in the bread. I take a hesitant bite of the creamy pasta. The exact same sweet honeysuckle essence hits my tastebuds.

Feeling like I am rapidly losing my mind, I drop my fork onto the plate. I am obsessing over a mated female. I realize I desperately need fresh air to clear my head and let Varg take over to figure this out.

I slip away from the table, walk out of the crowded ballroom, and head straight up to my guest room. I quickly strip off my formal suit and change into a simple t-shirt and athletic shorts. I leave the Packhouse through a quiet side door and walk briskly out to the dark tree line. I strip off my clothes, leaving them in a neat pile on the dirt at the base of a tree, and give Varg a nod to take full control.

My bones crack, twist, and snap in a rapid, familiar rhythm. I fluidly shift into my massive wolf form in mere seconds. Varg is a gigantic black wolf with glowing ruby red eyes. I dig my sharp claws into the soil and forcefully dart up the steep mountain trail. We run hard and fast, weaving through the thick trees, letting the intense physical exertion burn off our nervous, chaotic energy.

After an hour of running under the bright moonlight, the crisp night breeze suddenly shifts. It carries a heavy, unmistakable waft of rich herbs and blooming flowers. The comforting scent calls out to me like a beacon. Without thinking, Varg pivots and tracks the deeply comforting aroma. We navigate silently through the thick pine trees until we reach a secluded, moonlit clearing on the side of the mountain.

I instantly freeze in my tracks.

Calla is wandering completely naked among the vibrant mountain plants.

Bathed in the ethereal silver light of the full moon, she looks like a divine, breathtaking painting. Every single curve of her exquisite hourglass figure is utterly mesmerizing. I stand perfectly still, hiding in the dark shadows of the tree line, watching her examine the flora. Her large, heavy breasts bounce softly with every step she takes. Her rib cage tapers down perfectly to a tiny, delicate waist before her thick, full hips take over the silhouette. She has the sweetest, plumpest ass I have ever seen. There is absolutely no gap between her thighs; her legs are incredibly juicy and thick.

A surge of intense, primal desire erupts inside me. The raw lust hits me like a physical punch to the gut. My cock immediately gets rock hard, aching and throbbing painfully against my own stomach. I want to pull her onto the damp grass and bury myself deep inside her tight pussy. This burning need is far stronger and wilder than anything I even vaguely remember experiencing with my late mate. I want to claim her right here under the moon.

But the violent lust abruptly halts when she stops walking. She drops to her bare knees in the dirt. I watch in absolute shock as thick tears begin streaming steadily down her delicate face.

She reaches out and gently strokes the petals of a nearby flower. "I'll be leaving soon again," she speaks softly to the plants. Her voice cracks with immense sorrow. "You all have to keep growing and thriving without me."

A broken sob tears from her throat, shattering the quiet peace of the night. She wraps her bare arms around her naked torso, shivering violently. "I think he's going to lock me up for good this time. I might never get out."

My heart completely shatters inside my chest. Hearing her sob brokenly to the empty night physically hurts me. An overwhelming, violent instinct to protect her consumes my entire being. I want to shift back into my human form, sprint out into the center of the clearing, and pull her naked, shaking body into my arms. I want to hold her tight and stop the rain falling from her stormy grey eyes.

Suddenly, Calla stops crying. She snaps her head toward the dark tree line. Her tear-filled eyes flash with the brilliant gold lightning of her inner wolf. The wind just shifted. She caught my scent on the breeze.

Realizing I have been discovered invading her most vulnerable moment, sheer panic seizes my chest. I cannot let her know I was watching her. I instantly turn around, my heavy paws tearing up the dirt as I bolt at top speed back down the mountain, rushing frantically toward the safety of the Packhouse.

I make it back to the tree line and immediately shift back into my human body. I am breathing heavily as I quickly pull my shorts and t-shirt back on. I walk quietly into the main Packhouse wing and head straight to my guest bedroom.

I shut the door, walk over to the bed, and sit heavily on the mattress. I try to catch my breath. The harsh reality of the situation fully sets in. I drop my face into my trembling hands.

*Varg, what the hell are we doing?* I ask the beast inside me. *Out of all the females in the world, she is the most dangerous one we could ever pursue.*

Varg sighs deeply in my mind. He knows the truth just as well as I do. We cannot help being pulled in, and the mystery of why is intriguing, but we cannot act on it. We agree that we must leave the territory at dawn. We will go back home and reschedule our training sessions with the young Heir, Wyatt, for a few months from now. We simply need to stay far away until Calla inevitably returns to her mate. It is the only strategic decision to prevent a massive political disaster.

I nod in agreement and stand up from the bed. I need to wash the dirt off my skin. I forcefully strip off my clothes and step into the shower stall. My cock is still uncomfortably hard from the vivid memory of her bare breasts and thick thighs. I crank the water dial to the coldest possible setting. The freezing water hits my heated skin like solid ice. I subject myself to the brutal cold shower, desperately attempting to wash away the intense, burning lust. I close my eyes and try to scrub away the haunting, beautiful image of her standing in the forest as a moonlit goddess.

Once my body is completely numb and my arousal finally dies down, I shut off the water. I dry off with a towel, walk back into the bedroom, and lie down on the bed. I pull the heavy blankets up and attempt to sleep.

But my mind refuses to shut down. It stubbornly clings to the image of her crying face. Who the hell is making her so incredibly sad? I know it isn't her father. Alpha Garret honestly treats his daughters like delicate, precious flowers. He marks them as actual queens of the pack. Calla's fated family mark from the goddess is a queen's wreath. Her father treats her like absolute royalty.

So what kind of big bad wolf would ever dare to make a queen cry?

The terrifying thought of her mate locking her up in a cage makes my blood boil with sheer rage. My protective instincts flare violently. I want to rip the man's throat out. But I cannot stick my nose into another pack's business without a formal invite. It is a strict violation of the wolf codes my guard upholds.

I stare blindly at the ceiling as exhaustion slowly takes over my body. I drift off into an uneasy sleep, dreaming solely of standing in front of her, using my bare hands to gently wipe those bitter tears away from her soft cheek.