The Moon's Forbidden Mate

Isabella’s POV

My sneakers slap the icy pavement, breath fogging in Denver’s biting night air. The university’s hockey rink looms ahead, its neon lights bleeding into the dark. I’m late, dodging students spilling from the game, their cheers echoing like a war cry. Something’s wrong, my skin prickles, a warning I can’t shake. I’m not just here for the game. I’m here for him.

I shove through the crowd, heart pounding like a drum. Ethan Wolfe, the hockey captain, is a force on the ice, all muscle and menace, his stick a blur. But I know his secret. He’s not just a star athlete. He’s a werewolf, an alpha in heat, and the pull in my gut tells me I’m tied to him in ways I don’t understand. I’m not supposed to know this. I’m not supposed to feel this. But ever since I transferred here, his green eyes have burned into me, igniting something I can’t name.

The rink’s air hits like a slap, cold and sharp. I slip into the stands, scanning for Ethan. He’s there, skating with feral grace, his team dominating. But then crack. A player slams into him, deliberate, vicious. Ethan stumbles, blood streaking his jersey. The crowd roars, but my pulse spikes. That wasn’t an accident.

“Isabella!” Sofia’s voice cuts through the noise. My roommate, all curls and wide eyes, grabs my arm. “What the hell are you doing here? You hate hockey!”

“Something’s off,” I mutter, eyes locked on Ethan. He’s back on his feet, but his gaze flicks to the stands straight to me. My breath catches. He knows I’m here.

“Off? Like what?” Sofia’s tone is sharp, but her eyes dart nervously. She’s been seeing things she won’t explain. I don’t have time to press her.

A shadow moves in the crowd, too fast, too sleek. My skin crawls. I’ve felt this before, in nightmares I can’t shake blood, fangs, a hunger I don’t understand. I push past Sofia, heading for the rink’s edge. Ethan’s eyes meet mine again, and something primal flares between us, a heat that makes my thighs clench despite the chaos.

“Get out of here, Bella!” His voice booms across the ice, low and rough, like he’s fighting himself as much as the other team. The crowd doesn’t notice, but I do. He’s warning me.

Too late. A figure in a black hoodie lunges from the shadows, impossibly fast. Vampire. I don’t know how I know, but I do. My body moves before my brain catches up, dodging the blur of claws. The crowd screams, thinking it’s part of the show. I hit the ground, rolling, my heart a jackhammer. The vampire’s eyes glow red, fangs glinting as he snarls.

“You shouldn’t be here, Vega,” he hisses, voice like venom. “Victor wants you.”

“Who the hell is Victor?” I snap, scrambling to my feet. My hands tremble, but there’s a strength in me I’ve never felt, surging like fire. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I’m not going down easy.

Ethan’s there in a heartbeat, his stick discarded, eyes blazing green. He’s all predator now, no trace of the charming captain. He tackles the vampire, their bodies crashing into the boards with a sickening crunch. Blood sprays Ethan’s or the vampire’s, I can’t tell. The crowd’s screams turn to panic, people fleeing as the rink becomes a battlefield.

“Stay back!” Ethan growls, pinning the vampire. His muscles ripple under his torn jersey, sweat gleaming on his skin. My body reacts, heat pooling low despite the danger. God, he’s gorgeous, all raw power and rage. I want to hate how much I want him.

“Isabella, run!” Sofia’s voice is desperate now, pulling at me. But I can’t. Not when Ethan’s fighting for me, not when my blood sings for him.

Another vampire appears, this one taller, leaner, with a cruel smirk. “Wolfe, you’re out of your depth,” he sneers, twirling a blade. “She’s ours.”

“Like hell,” Ethan snarls, throwing the first vampire into the ice. He’s on the second in a flash, but the vampire’s too fast, slicing Ethan’s arm. Blood drips, and my stomach twists. I move before I think, grabbing a broken stick from the ice and swinging it like a bat. It connects with the vampire’s head, sending him staggering.

Ethan’s eyes widen, a mix of shock and something hotter, darker. “Nice swing,” he pants, blood trickling down his jaw. “But you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Then stop playing hero and help me!” I snap, adrenaline burning through my veins. My body feels alive, electric, like I was made for this fight. But deep down, I’m terrified. What am I?

The first vampire recovers, lunging for me. Ethan intercepts his body with a shield, but the vampire’s claws rake his back. He grunts, pain flashing across his face, but he doesn’t falter. He’s fighting for me, and it’s doing things to me I can’t process. My core tightens, my breath hitching as I watch him move, all lethal grace and untamed power.

“Sofia, get help!” I shout, dodging another swipe. She hesitates, then bolts, her footsteps fading. I’m alone with Ethan and two vampires who want me dead or worse.

“You don’t know what you are, do you?” the second vampire taunts, circling us. “Victor’s gonna love breaking you.”

Ethan’s growl is pure animal, vibrating through me. “Touch her, and you’re dead.” He moves so fast I barely see it, tackling the vampire to the ice. They’re a blur of fists and claws, blood staining the rink red. I grip the stick, heart racing, ready to jump in, but the first vampire grabs me from behind, his grip iron.

“Time to meet your maker, princess,” he whispers, his breath cold against my neck. His fangs graze my skin, and panic surges along with something else. Desire. It’s wrong, twisted, but my body hums, craving something I don’t understand. Ethan’s scent, wild and musky, floods my senses, and I want him, even now.

I twist, slamming my elbow into the vampire’s face. He staggers, and I break free, but not before his claws nick my arm. Pain sears, but it’s nothing compared to the fire in my blood. Ethan’s on his feet, the second vampire down, but he’s breathing hard, blood soaking his jersey. He sees me, and his eyes darken, pupils blown wide.

“You okay?” he asks, voice rough, almost tender. It undoes me, that softness in the middle of chaos.

“Define okay,” I mutter, clutching my arm. Blood drips, and his gaze locks on it, hunger flashing across his face. For a second, I think he’s going to pounce not on the vampire, but on me. My thighs clench, heat flooding me at the thought of his hands, his mouth.

“Focus, Wolfe,” I snap, more to myself than him. He shakes his head, like he’s fighting the same pull I am.

The first vampire lunges again, but Ethan’s faster, slamming him into the boards. “Stay down,” he growls, but the vampire laughs, a chilling sound.

“You can’t protect her forever,” he says. “Victor’s coming, and he’ll burn this city to get her.”

Ethan’s fist connects, silencing him. The rink is empty now, the crowd gone, leaving only blood and broken ice. I’m shaking, adrenaline and desire are warring inside me. Ethan turns, his chest heaving, eyes locked on mine. He steps closer, and I feel the pull, the need, like a rope tightening between us.

“What the hell are you?” I whisper, my voice trembling. I’m not just asking him. I’m asking myself.

He’s inches away, heat radiating off him. His hand brushes my cheek, and I lean into it, craving his touch despite everything. “You’re mine,” he says, low and possessive, sending a shiver down my spine. “And I’m not letting them take you.”

Before I can respond, a howl splits the night, chilling my blood. It’s not Ethan. It’s not friendly. Shadows move beyond the rink, eyes glowing in the dark. More vampires. Or worse.

“Ethan,” I breathe, gripping his arm. “We’re not alone.”

He tenses, pulling me behind him, his body a wall of muscle. “Stay close,” he orders, but his voice shakes not with fear, but with something deeper, wilder.

The shadows close in, and my heart stops. We’re surrounded, and I have no idea what I’m capable of or what’s coming for us.