Page 11 of Howl For A Kiss (Rebellious Mates #3)

NINE

ELENA

T he shift back to Elena's human form from her full wolf form was awkward and difficult at first. Pain rippled through muscles that had just learned a new configuration. Elena gritted her teeth, remembering Damon's earlier words about working with her wolf rather than fighting her.

Breathe. Center yourself. We're partners now.

The ache subsided as bones realigned and fur receded, leaving her standing naked under the November moonlight. The cold air kissed her heated skin, but awareness of her nudity paled compared to the overwhelming realization of what stood before her.

Damon in his naked human form was a masterpiece of masculine perfection that made her mouth go dry.

She'd seen Tyler shift countless times over the years—they'd been friends long enough that nudity between them held no mystery or embarrassment. But this was different. This was Damon, and every inch of his powerful frame seemed designed to make her forget how to breathe properly.

His shoulders were even broader without clothes, tapering to a narrow waist and muscled abdomen that looked carved from granite. Dark hair dusted his chest, trailing lower to?—

Stop looking there, Elena.

But God help her, she couldn't stop stealing glances. Tyler had been attractive in a comfortable, brotherly way, but Damon possessed a raw masculinity that made her newly awakened wolf purr with appreciation.

"Your clothes are over there," Damon said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. He kept his gaze carefully averted while reaching for his own discarded garments. "Take your time."

Elena forced herself to move toward her fitted white top, black cargo pants, undergarments, and boots, hyperaware of Damon's presence even as he gave her privacy.

Her hands shook slightly as she pulled on her clothes—whether from the lingering effects of shifting or from the way her body still hummed with awareness of him, she couldn't say.

The past three days had turned her world upside down. Tyler's death. Her rebel base destroyed. Discovering she was a hybrid. And now this first transformation into the white wolf that her very soul seemed to recognize as her true self.

But underneath all that chaos, something else stirred. Something that had awakened the moment she'd met Damon yesterday afternoon.

Something her wolf insisted on tonight when they were exploring the forest together in their wolf forms. Her wolf had called him mate.

The word echoed in her mind as she pulled on her combat boots. During their run through the forest, when instinct ruled over logic, her wolf had recognized something in Damon that Elena's human mind couldn't quite grasp. A connection deeper than attraction, more primal than desire.

"Elena?" Damon's voice drew her from her spiraling thoughts. He was fully dressed again in his dark jeans and thermal henley, but she could still picture every inch of that magnificent body underneath.

"Sorry," she murmured, securing her last boot. "Just processing everything."

They walked back toward the cabin in comfortable silence, the snow crunching beneath their feet. Elena felt different somehow—more complete than she'd ever been in her twenty-eight years. Her wolf settled peacefully in her, no longer clawing to escape but resting contentedly.

And she felt more connected to the enigmatic man walking beside her than she had any right to after knowing him for barely thirty-six hours.

As they reached the cabin's back entrance, Damon turned to face her. In the porch light, his green eyes held warmth that made her chest tighten with unexpected emotion.

"You were incredible out there," he said softly. "Your first full shift, and you handled it like you'd been doing it for years."

"I had good guidance." Elena found herself stepping closer, drawn by the genuine pride in his expression. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"You're stronger than you know, Elena." His voice dropped to that rough timber that made her stomach flutter. "Everything you're handling—Tyler's death, losing your base, discovering your true nature—most people would've broken under that pressure. But you're still standing. Still fighting."

The sincerity in his words hit her harder than she expected. When was the last time someone had seen her strength rather than just expecting it? When had anyone acknowledged the weight she carried?

Before she could second-guess the impulse, Elena rose on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm beneath her lips, and she caught the intoxicating scent of pine and something uniquely him.

"Thank you," she whispered against his skin. "For everything."

When she pulled back, Damon's eyes had darkened to forest green, his pupils dilated with a burning intensity that made her breath catch. For a heartbeat, she thought he might close the distance between them, might finally give in to the electricity that crackled whenever they were near each other.

"Goodnight, Elena," he said roughly, but his voice held a restraint that suggested he was fighting some internal battle.

"Goodnight, Damon."

He turned and disappeared inside the cabin with movements that seemed almost hurried, as if he didn't trust himself to linger. Elena watched him go, noting the rigid tension in his shoulders.

Had he wanted to kiss her back? The thought sent heat pooling low in her body.

Once inside her bedroom, Elena stripped off her clothes again and headed straight for the small attached bathroom. The hot shower was exactly what her shifting muscles needed, but as the water cascaded over her skin, her mind wandered to forbidden places.

Images of Damon's naked form filled her thoughts—the powerful lines of his chest, the way the moonlight had carved shadows across his abs, and the impressive evidence of his masculinity that she definitely shouldn't be thinking about.

Her hand drifted lower without conscious permission, and Elena gasped as pleasure sparked through her system. She'd never been one for self-indulgence, too focused on survival and rebellion to waste time on physical desires.

But tonight, with her wolf fully awakened and her body humming with new awareness of Damon, she couldn't stop herself from imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on her skin instead of her own.

As Elena climbed out of the shower, the hot water having done little to calm the restless energy thrumming through her, she pulled on fresh white lace undergarments that felt oddly delicate against her skin.

Her awakened wolf seemed hyperaware of every sensation—the silk of her panties, the way her fitted long-sleeved white top hugged her curves, and how the black cargo pants molded to her hips.

She'd barely finished dressing when a soft knock echoed through her bedroom door.

"Elena?" Damon's deep voice sent an unexpected shiver through her body.

Heat flooded her cheeks as images from her shower fantasy crashed back—his naked form under the moonlight, the impressive evidence of his masculinity, and the way her own hands had moved across her heated skin while imagining his touch instead.

God, could he somehow smell her arousal?

Elena opened the door and immediately regretted it.

Damon stood in the hallway wearing his fitted thermal black henley and dark jeans, looking devastatingly masculine in the cabin's warm lighting.

His eyes darkened the moment they met hers, his pupils dilating as his nostrils flared almost imperceptibly.

She felt exposed, as if those intelligent eyes could see straight through to her core, right to her wanton thoughts she'd been entertaining mere minutes ago.

"I—" Elena's voice came out breathier than intended. She cleared her throat and tried again. "What do you need?"

"Are you tired?" His voice held that rough quality that made her pulse quicken dangerously. "Or would you like to plan some more for our attack tomorrow evening?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, perhaps too eagerly.

A slow smile curved Damon's lips—the kind that made her think of dangerous things in dark places. "Yes to being tired, or yes to planning?"

"Planning," Elena managed, hyperaware of his intoxicating scent. "Definitely planning."

His smile widened, transforming his usually stoic features into something that made her heart race. "Good. I think we can refine our strategy even further."

Elena followed him down the hallway, noting the predatory grace in his movements. Everything about Damon screamed alpha male—from the confident set of his shoulders to the way he seemed to command the space around him without effort.

Once inside the makeshift office, Damon spread his reconnaissance notes across the small desk. The lamplight cast shadows that emphasized the sharp angles of his face, making him appear even more striking than usual.

"Your idea about the quick, deliberate strike has merit," he said, leaning over the map. "But if we combine it with my suggestion about entering through the blind spot near the maintenance shed on the north side..."

Elena found herself drawn closer to him, ostensibly to study the tactical layout but really because his proximity made her wolf purr with satisfaction.

She could smell his scent even stronger in the confined space—pine and something distinctly masculine that made her want to bury her face against his neck.

"The maintenance shed gives us cover," she agreed, forcing herself to focus on strategy rather than the way his forearm muscles flexed as he pointed to various locations. "And if we position our backup team here?—"

"They'll have clear sightlines to provide cover fire if things go sideways." Damon's approval warmed her more than it should have.

They held a companionable discussion for several minutes, their earlier friction from this morning replaced by seamless collaboration. She found herself grudgingly admitting that his surgical precision balanced her aggressive tendencies perfectly.

"You're brilliant at this," she said, glancing up from the map to find him watching her with piercing intensity. "You seem to have extensive experience with reconnaissance and attack missions."

Something flickered across Damon's features—too quick for her to identify, but it felt like wariness.

"Logan trained our Silvercrest rebel group well," he said carefully. "I learned a lot from him about stealth and strategy."

Elena carefully studied his face, noting the subtle tension around his eyes. "That's not it, though."

"What do you mean?"

"You understand the ins and outs of attacking bigger structures.

And you seem to know intimate details about pack methods and countermeasures.

" She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "That's not knowledge you pick up from rebel training, Damon.

That's the kind of expertise that comes from being on the inside. "

The shuttered expression that descended over his features was immediate and complete. The warm, collaborative partner vanished, replaced by the stoic stranger she'd first met.

"Elena—"

"What aren't you telling me?" The question came out sharper than she'd intended, but something about his evasiveness triggered every survival instinct she'd honed over the years.

Damon straightened, putting distance between them. "We should get some rest. Tomorrow's mission requires us to be sharp."

Frustration flared in Elena's chest. Just when she thought they were connecting, he retreated behind those carefully constructed walls. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Shutting down. Running away." She stood up, matching his movement. "Earlier today when I asked about your life at Silvercrest territory, you did the same thing. What's so terrible about your life that you can't even?—"

"It's late," Damon interrupted, his voice taking on that formal tone that made Elena want to shake him. "We've had a busy day, especially with your first transformation. You need sleep."

The dismissal stung more than it should have. Elena had thought they were building something—trust, partnership, maybe even something deeper. But apparently, she'd been fooling herself.

"Fine," she said quietly, hating how small her voice sounded. "I won't push."

Something that might have been regret flashed in his eyes, but it was gone too quickly to be sure. "Goodnight, Elena."

"Goodnight."

She watched him leave, noting the rigid tension in his body. Whatever secrets Damon was hiding, they ran deep enough to cause him real pain. Part of her wanted to pursue it and to demand answers, but a larger part recognized that pushing would only drive him further away.

If there's something important, he'll tell me eventually, she told herself, though the words felt hollow.

Back in her bedroom, Elena lay staring at the low wooden ceiling, her mind churning with questions that had no answers.

The word "mate" echoed through her thoughts like a persistent whisper.

Her wolf had recognized something in Damon tonight —something primal and undeniable that transcended logic or reason.

But what did it mean? Elena had never been one for long-term thinking, preferring to live moment to moment and mission to mission. The idea of destiny or fate felt foreign and unsettling.

Yet as night deepened around her, she became aware of a presence just outside her bedroom door. Not threatening but protective. Damon stood guard in the hallway, and somehow she could feel his proximity like a warm touch against her skin.

The strange pull toward him grew stronger in the darkness, as if invisible threads connected them across the thin barrier of wood and circumstance. Elena pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beat in rhythm with something she couldn't name.

Was her destiny always tied to Damon?

The question haunted her as she finally drifted toward sleep, Damon's silent vigil somehow more comforting than any words could have been.