Kidnapped by the Alpha

Aria Blake had always believed the forest was her escape.

To most of Cedar Hollow, Whispering Pines was a place of shadows and danger, a stretch of wilderness whispered about in hushed voices. Parents warned their children not to go too far. Hunters carried silver rounds they swore were only for bears. Farmers muttered of strange howls when the moon was high.

But to Aria, the forest felt more like home than the town ever did.

Cedar Hollow was small, safe, predictable. Life there was mapped out in neat, suffocating steps—graduate school, marry young, settle into routines that never changed. Her aunt Miriam, who had raised her after her parents’ deaths, saw that safety as a blessing. But for Aria, safety was just another word for a cage.

When the weight of the town pressed too hard, she ran to the trees with her sketchbook tucked under her arm. There, under the canopy of whispering leaves, she could breathe. She could imagine a life bigger than this. She could let her pencil capture the shapes that haunted her dreams: gnarled roots, twisting shadows… and eyes. Always eyes.

Golden. Unblinking. Watching.

She never told anyone about those sketches. Not even Tessa, her best friend, who thought Aria’s forest wanderings were reckless enough.

“You’re going to end up wolf chow one of these nights,” Tessa teased at the diner earlier that evening, poking a fry at her.

Aria smirked, swirling her straw in her soda. “Relax. Wolves have deer and rabbits. I’m not on the menu.”

“Don’t joke.” Tessa leaned closer, lowering her voice. “My dad says people who wander too deep into the pines… sometimes they don’t come back.”

Aria only laughed, but later, when the night fell, those words clung to her like burrs.

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The air was sharp with pine when she slipped into the forest, her basket of herbs bouncing against her hip. The moon was high, casting silver beams between the trees. She walked the familiar trail, enjoying the quiet.

But tonight the quiet was wrong.

The crickets had stilled. The owls were silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Each step Aria took sounded too loud, echoing in the hush.

Her skin prickled.

She tightened her grip on the basket and quickened her pace. She had walked this path a hundred times, but suddenly the trees seemed closer, darker, as though leaning in to watch.

A branch creaked overhead. It sounded less like wood and more like a breath.

Her heart lurched.

“Get a grip,” she muttered to herself. “It’s just a forest.”

But her voice sounded small against the pressing silence.

She turned toward the village lights flickering faintly in the distance. Home was only minutes away. She’d laugh at herself once she was back in her room with her sketchbook.

Then the world shifted.

One moment, the path ahead was empty. The next, a figure stepped out of the shadows.

Tall. Broad. Wrong.

Aria froze, her basket slipping from her fingers. Herbs scattered across the dirt, forgotten.

The man’s eyes caught the moonlight and glowed, molten gold.

Her breath hitched, her throat closing around a scream.

He moved closer, each step unhurried, certain. There was no mistaking the power in his stride, the predatory stillness in the way he looked at her—as though she were already his.

“Who—who are you?” Her voice trembled.

“You’re coming with me,” he said. His voice was rough velvet, dark and commanding.

“I—I don’t even know you—”

“You don’t need to.” His hand shot out, closing around her wrist. His grip was iron, unyielding, yet strangely careful, as if he feared she might shatter.

Panic surged through her veins. She yanked, twisted, tried to pull free, but he didn’t budge.

“Let me go!” she cried, her voice breaking against the still night.

His gaze burned hotter, gold piercing straight through her. “You belong to me.”

Before she could scream, before she could fight, the forest itself seemed to close around them, swallowing the world she knew whole.

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Cliffhanger (Chapter End):

Aria’s life in Cedar Hollow was over. The Alpha had claimed her.