CHAPTER 002

"Dad, I think this is a trap," I blurt, my voice barely audible.

Logan hears me first, and his body stiffens as he carefully turns in my direction. My father follows his gaze.

Before either of them can respond, the night erupts.

"Attack!" my father roars.

Gunshots explode in the darkness. Grenades detonate with deafening booms, sending shockwaves through the trees. The acrid scent of gunpowder fills the air, mingling with the unmistakable stench of blood.

I try to aim my arrow, but I can’t see through the chaos. Shadows dart between trees. Growls rip through the night, and bodies collide. The sound of tearing flesh and agonized screams sends ice through my veins.

Having no clear shot, I am left with only one option. To run.

I turn and sprint, letting my legs pound against the earth as I race back the way we came. I don’t look back for even a second.

Branches whip against my face, my heart pounding so loudly I can barely hear the screams behind me.

I stumble and crash to the ground with a loud thud. Pain jolts through me, but I push myself up, ignoring the sting in my leg, and I keep running.

From a distance, I hear more screams—a combination of men howling in agony and werewolf growls.

I stop on my track and duck behind a thick tree to catch my breath.

"Fuck," I curse, clutching my bow. “You need to keep moving. Dad and Logan can handle themselves.” I mutter to myself.

As I am about to break into another sprint, a strong hand grips me and puts a hand on my mouth.

I let out a muffled scream as I am pinned against the tree, but I look up and see Logan.

"Shhh," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

I hear heavy footsteps crunching through the underbrush nearby, and my stomach clenches as I try to hold my breath.

The footsteps linger for a moment… then fade.

Logan slowly removes his hand from my mouth and releases me from his grip.

"They knew we were coming," he whispers, his voice deadly serious. "Someone must have tipped them off." He adds.

"Where’s Dad?" I whisper back, gasping for air. "You left him behind?"

“Dad will be fine." He responds, his eyes darting around, scanning the darkness.

"I’m going back for him," I mutter, pushing myself off the tree.

Logan slams me back against the rough bark, his grip bruising.

"You’ll be dead in seconds, Ingrid," he hisses. His expression changing to one full of concern.

I glare at him, but he shoves something into my hands. Dad’s car keys.

"Run. Find Dad’s jeep. Be ready to drive when we get there," he orders before disappearing into the shadows.

I take a deep breath, and I start running again.

I spot the jeep in the distance and push myself harder. My lungs burn, my legs scream in protest, but I persist.

I reach the car, but the keys slip from my shaking hands and fall to the ground.

"Crap," I whisper, bending down to grab them. I then hear the footsteps again, closer this time.

They are fast and unnatural.

I whirl around, raise the bow, and get ready to shoot.

I see something moving in the shadows, and I try to aim, but the movements are erratic, darting back and forth like a blur of darkness.

"Whoever’s out there, I will kill you," I warn, my voice unsteady. I take slow, careful steps around the jeep, trying to keep my breath shallow.

The movements quicken and become faster, circling me.

My heart starts to pound and I yank the car door open, desperate to get inside.

As I am about to close the door, something slams my head against the steering wheel and the world becomes dark.

******************************

"Wake up!" a rough voice barks just as ice-cold water splashes over me.

I gasp, jerking awake, my body shivering as the freezing liquid soaks through my clothes. I feel a sharp, throbbing pain pulsing in my skull, and I  wince as I force my eyes open.

"There you are," the voice says.

I try to move, but my wrists are bound behind my back. I struggle to get free, but the ropes dig into my skin the more I move. I shift slightly, testing their hold, but it’s no use.

My eyes sweep the room, and I see two men standing in front of me. Both are tall, muscular, and annoyingly attractive.

"Tell the Alpha she’s awake," one of them orders.

He leaves the room, and the other one crouches to my level, tilting his head as he studies me. His sharp green eyes scan my face before he reaches out and brushes damp strands of hair from my forehead. His fingers graze a cut, and I flinch.

"Ouch. That must’ve hurt," he teases, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" I ask, summoning every ounce of courage I have.

His smirk fades and is replaced with a more serious expression.

"You and your people killed a lot of my friends last night, you know that?" He asks, his voice matching his expression.

I hold his gaze, keeping my tone steady. "I’m sure you killed my friends too."

One of the most important lessons my father ever taught me was how to handle being captured. “Never let them see fear. They can smell it, and they will use it against you.” He told us repeatedly.

Heavy footsteps echo outside, and he quickly stands and steps back, straightening himself as the door swings open.

A new figure enters the room. He’s different from the others.

Taller. His presence more commanding. His brown hair is pulled into a tight bun, highlighting sharp, chiseled features. He is more muscular, his broad shoulders stretching beneath his black shirt, and piercing aqua-blue eyes lock onto mine with unsettling intensity.

The air in the room shifts. Even the two men tense at his presence. He must be the Alpha.

"Is this her?" he asks, his voice deep, low, and laced with authority.

The two men nod aggressively.

"And Silas? His son?" he asks, but silence follows.

The men exchange uneasy glances before one of them lowers his head. "I’m sorry, Alpha. They escaped."

The Alpha turns to him, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he delivers a brutal punch to the man’s stomach.

A sharp gasp escapes him as he crumples to the floor, groaning in pain.

The Alpha flexes his fists, his knuckles white.

"I ordered I needed them captured. Now they know we’re onto them," he growls, his voice thick with frustration.

Then his gaze shifts to me, and my breath catches.

His blue eyes bore into mine, unblinking, predatory.

"You must be Ingrid," he mutters, walking towards me.

I lift my chin, refusing to look away. "I am."

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"I can smell your fear from where I’m standing," he snarls, tilting his head slightly. "You’re not as brave as you pretend to be."

I clench my jaw, and I don’t react.

"Leave us," he orders.

The two men quickly rush out and close the door behind them.

The alpha moves slowly and drags a chair from across the room.

He sits leaning forward, elbows on his knees and studies me again.

"Ingrid," he calls, his voice dropping to something cold.

"I’m going to set an example with you." He says, a dangerous grin spreading across his face.