Alpha Kane's POV

The feeling came on like fire.

It gripped me by my lungs and crushed my ribs till all I could see was red. I had never felt such intense pain in my life before.

All my senses screamed at me to turn around. I didn’t know why but I was being pulled in the opposite direction of the pack house, just as I was going to gather men to find that witch.

It felt like something had possessed my body… like I was under a spell.

"Ragnar!" I bellowed at my wolf. "What is happening?" I yelled through gritted teeth as I struggled to fight the unnatural force acting on my body.

"I don't know but we must fight it, something is pushing me to the front of your mind, forcing me to take control against my will."

The pain made me double over and I fell against the forest floor, my hands sinking into the dirt and digging up sand as I fought to stop myself from shifting.

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

I could feel my wolf fighting against the influence as well, but the pressure in my chest slowly grew till I lost all sensation. I felt myself shift against my will and when I finally came to, I was drenched in blood, staring at a wide eyed frail little girl, woman really, if I could look past how skinny she was from what was probably years of neglect.

Silva.

I took a good look at her for the first time that night. Under all the blood that caked her face, she was beautiful. Her hair framed her face perfectly, bringing out her beautiful hazel eyes. There were flecks of green and yellow in her eyes that glinted softly, mesmerizing me, it felt like I could stare into her eyes forever.

I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to protect her from all of it, the pain… the hurt, why was I feeling this way so suddenly.

“Sorcery,” My wolf snarled in my head. “The witch seemed to have placed some sort of spell on us that made me lose control.”

No, she did more than that.

These feelings aren’t mine.

Just minutes ago I was about to lead a witch hunt to end her life, and now I can’t stop thinking about how fucking beautiful she is.

“What have you done to me?” I asked as I walked up to her. “I just attacked wolves of this pack, this can be considered an act of war—”

“They were going to kill me,” she rushed out, the fear in her eyes reached out to me and punched me in the guts. I didn’t know why, but I immediately wanted to do anything to stop her from feeling that way again.

I would declare the war on her entire pack if it was what it took—wait a damn fucking minute. Why would I want to declare war on my subjects for a girl I barely knew? For a witch?

I should hate her, but for some reasons, I was feeling the exact opposite of hate. I couldn’t let her know whatever spell she placed on me was working.

“Why? Did they figure out you are a witch?” I snarled.

“No, they wanted to kill me because I was a non-shifter, a scourge on their precious pack,” she spat the words like they didn’t make her feel anything but I could see the slight tremble in her hands as she spoke, the little back and forth she made on her heels like she was trying to physically ground herself.

She was afraid, terrified even.

I remembered the conversation with her father, he had given her until the end of the ball to leave the pack territory.

"You must be a fool to fear death. It is mercy compared to what you will suffer if you're trialed."

“Well,” she continued, “I’m pretty sure you just singlehandedly ruined your chance to get rid of the local witch, a.k.a., me. The wolves you murdered were about to tear me to shreds.”

“Keep your voice down,” I snapped at her. I couldn’t have rumors of me murdering wolves spread, it would only aid the course of the usurpers, I had enough on my plate already. “You did this to me.”

“I did what? What are you talking—” She staggered slightly, cutting her question off as she held a hand against her belly.

“Are you still going to deny your bewitchment when the proof is right in front of us? You did something to me that made me lose control and kill all these wolves.”

The palm she held against her stomach came up bloodied and she stumbled again.

“I genuinely think you’ve lost your damn mind,” she chuckled slightly and she stumbled once more, but this time she collapsed on the floor, steadily bleeding out.

“Silva!” I called out and almost dashed to her before I stopped myself.

She’s a witch. She’s supposed to die.

I should just let her bleed out and die.

I gave myself all these reasons, but I still couldn’t walk away as I watched her bleed, or more like I was physically incapable of walking away.

My heart burned with a sharp intensity till the thought of saving her consumed me from within.

I walked towards her slumped form and as I reached out my hands to scoop her up, I noticed something different about my hand.

A thick band of unrelenting black ink encircled my left forearm, just a couple of inches below my wrist. The tattoo formed a perfect, unbroken circle that was a stark contrast against my skin, and etched in the band were faint, cryptic markings, or rather delicate sigils or letters too worn to decipher, curling like whispers around my hand.

“What the…” I trailed off.

This tattoo had only appeared on me once before and it could only mean one thing.

Silva was telling the truth, she didn’t bewitch me.

But I know who did.