The town faded behind me like a half-remembered dream.

I didn’t know where I was going—just that I had to keep moving. That if I stopped, whatever was chasing me would catch up. Even if I couldn’t see it.

My boots crunched across pine needles and damp earth as I followed the barely visible trail through the woods. The farther I walked, the stronger the pulse in my chest became.

Not panic. Not fear.

Him.

It was him.

I didn’t know how I knew. But I did. He was ahead of me. Or near. Close enough to feel… like heat on the back of my neck.

Then I heard them.

Footsteps.

But not human.

Fast. Too fast. Too low to the ground.

I stopped breathing.

A snarl ripped through the trees—sharp and guttural. My heart slammed against my ribs as something darted between the shadows, circling.

Then another. And another.

Red eyes flashed behind the brush.

Wolves.

But not the natural kind.

Their scent hit me next—bitter, rotting, wrong. Not like the one I’d smelled before. Not like… his.

I stumbled back a step, instincts screaming to run.

Run. Now.

Too late.

They lunged.

Three of them—larger than any animal I’d ever seen, fur black and matted, teeth bared. I barely ducked the first one. Claws tore through my jacket as I hit the ground hard.

The second circled to block me in. The third growled and leapt—going straight for my throat.

I screamed—

And the wolf inside me snapped.

A fire ignited under my skin, so fast and fierce I thought I’d die from the heat. My vision went white. My bones stretched, cracked, shifted.

I didn’t transform. Not fully.

But I changed enough.

Enough to snarl back. To leap to my feet with a strength I didn’t know I had. To rip my elbow into the nearest wolf’s jaw hard enough to send it crashing into a tree.

My hands—my nails—they weren’t normal anymore.

And I wasn’t afraid.

Not anymore.

I turned to face the last one head-on, chest heaving, every nerve awake.

But before I could move, another growl sliced through the air—deeper.

More powerful.

Everything went still.

The rogue wolves froze, whimpering.

And then, from the trees behind them, he stepped into the light.

Six feet of pure, controlled danger. Dark hair. Black shirt stretched across broad shoulders. Eyes like a storm about to break.

My knees almost buckled.

He didn’t look at the rogues.

He looked at me.

Like I was a puzzle he hadn’t expected to crave solving.

Then, without blinking, he gave his command.

“On your knees.”

I flinched.

“What—?”

His voice was low. Deadly.

“You’re on my land. You’re marked. And you’re not in control of your wolf. That makes you a threat.”

My pulse roared in my ears. “I just saved my life—”

“And nearly exposed yourself to every predator within fifty miles,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

“I don’t even know what I am!”

The words broke from my throat like glass.

Silence followed.

His eyes—those impossible eyes—flashed silver.

Then he stepped closer. The rogue wolves backed away like shadows.

“You’re mine,” he said quietly.

I took a step back. “No.”

But he followed.

“You carry my mark.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

His voice didn’t rise. He didn’t reach for me. But everything in his presence screamed dominance, power, restraint.

Barely.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” I breathed.

He held my gaze, unreadable.

“I’m the Alpha,” he said. “And you’re my mate.”