Page 15 of Fated (The Bonded Legacy #1)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CALEB

T he summit lodge loomed ahead, an imposing structure of timber and stone nestled against the dramatic backdrop of snow-dusted peaks.

Caleb stepped out of his truck, awestruck by the grandeur of the scene before him.

The hum of power was palpable, a near-tangible current in the air as auras from dozens of alphas and betas mingled.

The faint scent of dominance, ambition, and territorial energy lingered, a cocktail that made his wolf stir uneasily within him.

“This is what they call unity?” Fenrir huffed. “Feels more like a battleground.”

Caleb brushed off the edge of Fenrir’s sarcasm, though he couldn’t entirely disagree.

The energy surrounding the lodge wasn’t just political—it was primal.

He could almost taste it in the air, thick and heady with possibility and threat.

Even the pack banners seemed to reflect the tension flapping restlessly in the crisp evening breeze.

Crescent Fang had no banner here. Not because they lacked what others valued—their territory housed Selene’s first blessing, their bank account rivaled packs twice their size—but because Caleb refused to participate in this display of peacocking.

These alphas would measure him by the acres of his land and the gold in his vaults, missing entirely what had sustained Crescent Fang through generations: unwavering devotion to their Goddess.

Selene had rewarded that devotion with favor and blessing and power that no amount of political posturing could match.

Let them underestimate him. Let them see only what they valued, while overlooking everything that truly mattered.

Asher stepped out of the truck behind him, bringing instant relief. The larger male adjusted his cuffs casually, but Caleb knew better. Asher’s sharp gaze swept over their surroundings with the measured calm that had kept them both alive more than once.

“Well, this is...overwhelming,” Asher murmured, in a tone meant only for Caleb’s ears.

“It is,” Caleb admitted, rolling his shoulders to release tension. “But this is why we came. To remind them who we are, right?”

Asher’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Then you’d better make sure they remember.”

Caleb chuckled, finding Asher’s hand as they entered the lodge.

The energy inside was even more intense—voices echoed against the high ceilings, laughter and the occasional territorial growl punctuated the space.

The distant clink of glasses from the banquet hall hinted at the liveliness of the ongoing event, but Caleb’s focus was on the check-in desk.

They’d purposely arrived late to avoid being pulled into the social chaos, preferring to settle in and prepare for tomorrow.

The desk agent, a young wolf with wide eyes, greeted them nervously. Caleb could feel the ripple of his alpha aura brushing against the male, and he pulled it back to avoid overwhelming him. Even restrained, Fenrir’s presence made the young wolf’s scent spike with anxiety.

“Welcome, Alpha Crescent Fang,” the agent stammered, glancing at the ledger. “You’re...um, you’re in room 412.”

Caleb nodded, but the male hesitated, his gaze darting between the ledger and Caleb.

“Oh, there seems to be a mistake. We only have one room under the reservation...with, uh, one bed?”

Caleb arched a brow, aura unfurling like a shadow spreading across the room. The action wasn’t meant to intimidate—just to make a point.

“There is no error. One room. One bed.” To punctuate his words, Caleb placed a possessive hand on the back of Asher’s neck.

The desk agent looked away, hands fumbling to pass over the room keys, but not before Caleb caught the flash of understanding in his eyes. “Of course, Alpha.” The agent’s cheeks reddened.

Asher leaned into the touch, body language effortlessly confident. Caleb’s hand slid down to the small of Asher’s back, palm resting on the curve of his ass as they walked toward the elevator. The gesture and their mingling scents were a silent message to any wolves nearby: mine .

The elevator doors closed with a ding, tension waxing in the small space. Asher leaned casually against the wall, lips quirking into that knowing smirk that always made Caleb and Fenrir stir in equal measure.

“You know,” Asher said, “if you keep pushing your alpha aura out like that, you might end up topping me this week.”

Caleb’s breath caught as a vivid image seared through his mind—Asher face down, broad shoulders pressed into the mattress, submitting to him for once. Fenrir growled approvingly, a rumble of possessive hunger that made Caleb’s blood heat.

“Careful,” Caleb warned. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Asher’s grin widened, scent thickening with arousal in the confined space. “Am I? Or am I just giving you ideas?”

The elevator chimed again, breaking the moment, though the tension lingered between them. Caleb let out a sharp breath, stepping out first. Asher followed behind, close enough that Caleb could feel the heat of him.

By the time they entered their suite, Caleb had regained control, though Fenrir still paced restlessly in the back of his mind. The room was warm and inviting, its large bed dominating the space—a sight that made both wolf and male take notice despite their attempts to focus on business.

Caleb set his bag down by the desk, attention shifting as they began unpacking.

The summit packet lay waiting, filled with schedules, maps, and details about the attending packs.

He picked it up, flipping through the pages as Asher hung their clothes in the wardrobe, the domestic familiarity of the moment anchoring them.

“Darius Bloodstone is leading tomorrow’s negotiations on the northern territory disputes,” Caleb said, his tone thoughtful as he scanned the documents. “His son, Kai, will probably be involved. Their pack borders ours, but they’ve shown no interest in Crescent Fang.”

Asher glanced over, his earlier playfulness replaced by the laser focus that made him such an effective beta. “Maybe this is the time to change that.”

Caleb nodded, considering the implications.

“Look beyond alliances of convenience,” Fenrir cautioned. “Selene weaves threads we cannot always see. Some bonds transcend paper agreements.”

“It’s worth considering, but the Bloodstones...they’re a different world, Asher. Wealthy, powerful. Their pack is practically an empire. They’ve probably forgotten we even exist.”

“ She remembers,” Fenrir encouraged. “Being forgotten is our greatest strength. We move unseen where others stomp with heavy feet.”

Asher snorted, the sound carrying both amusement and challenge. “Then make them pay attention—remind them.”

“Hmmm... Moonshadow,” Caleb’s tone was contemplative as he continued scanning the list. “Their alpha-heir, beta, beta-heir, and it looks like the alpha’s daughter are attending. They’re...intriguing.”

“Why?” Asher paused his unpacking to give Caleb his full attention.

“Reputation,” Caleb replied, tapping the page. “Erik said they’re one of the few packs that seem to have avoided the greed and corruption plaguing the others. Strong, respected, but never overreaching. They’ve stayed small but built a legacy on loyalty and honor.”

Asher nodded, moving to stand behind Caleb, close enough that his warmth seeped through his shirt. “Could be worth building a connection. If they’re as principled as you say, they might align with us.”

“Possibly,” Caleb agreed, trying to focus on the papers despite Asher’s distracting proximity. “Erik advised treading carefully. We don’t know much about any of them or their true motivations.”

“Erik is not alpha. He is not here. You are,” Fenrir intoned.

Caleb let out a slow breath. These packs would only see the alpha of a forgotten pack when they looked at him, never the male beneath who questioned every decision, who relied on his council’s wisdom and Asher’s unwavering support.

His public mask was refined now—smooth and seamless from years of practice—while the raw honesty he shared only in Asher’s arms remained his true face.

They continued strategizing late into the night, conversation flowing easily as always. But when the clock struck midnight, Asher stood, stretching. He stepped closer, hands settling on Caleb’s shoulders.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he said, his voice firm but laced with affection. His thumbs worked the tense muscles at the base of Caleb’s neck as he tugged him away from the desk. “Time to wind down.”

Caleb allowed himself to be pulled toward the bed, tracking Asher hungrily as he shed his shirt and pants with grace. The sight of his naked lover never failed to stir something deep within him—something primal and reverent all at once.

Asher climbed onto the bed on all fours, presenting himself to Caleb. His dark eyes smoldered with unrestrained desire as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m yours, my alpha.”

The sight of Asher offering himself so willingly ignited something deep within Caleb—adoration, hunger, the undeniable urge to claim what was his.

A shiver ran through him as Fenrir surged forward.

The wolf growled possessively, its presence a fierce reminder of the primal bond between alpha and beta.

Climbing onto the bed, he trailed his hands over the broad expanse of Asher’s muscled back.

His fingertips lingered at each dip and curve, mapping valleys and ridges with the veneration of an explorer on sacred ground.

Caleb pressed his lips to the base of Asher’s neck, breath hot against his beta’s sensitive skin.

Fenrir growled in his mind again, urging him to bite, mark, and make Asher his in every way.

But Caleb resisted. They weren’t fated, and no matter how strong their connection was, he wouldn’t dishonor Selene’s will.

He trusted Her plan—trusted that She would find a way to let them remain lovers and partners for life.