Chapter 7: The Royal Shadow

“He is not our mate,” replied Kalina, sounding puzzled, “but… I am attracted to him. I'm not sure why I feel this pull. I just want—”

“Stop right there,” Zoriana cut her off. She was furious to admit it, but she felt it too—an overwhelming need to be closer to him, to press herself against his strong, gorgeous body, and to taste his lips. It was awkward, even embarrassing. Before mating Ryder, she had attended the Royal Academy where she and Aella were the only females among a sea of handsome Alphas, yet she had never felt anything like this for any of them. She had never felt such raw, unfiltered lust.

“Is my heart so desperate to heal that it’s reaching for the first Alpha it finds”, she wondered bitterly, “or is Kalina sensing something I'm too stubborn to see?”

Zoriana hated the way her body hummed for him. It felt like a betrayal to herself—to be standing there with her heart still bruised from Ryder, only for her pulse to start thrumming for a man who looked like he’d break her just for the fun of it. It was humiliating, the way her breath hitched, her body turning into a traitorous mess of liquid heat and sharp desire for a man whose name she didn't even know.

She blushed, and the stranger chuckled softly, clearly taking her reaction the wrong way.

“It’s okay to try and bite off more than you can chew,” he said. “This bike is clearly not for you, but there’s no need to feel embarrassed, baby girl. I’ll help you choose something more suitable—lightweight and easy to ride.”

His voice was enchanting, low and sensual, but his words acted like a bucket of ice water. The reality of his arrogance broke the spell of the pull.

“I do not need to be patronised, and this bike is already sold to me,” she snapped. She quickly reached the payment desk and didn't look at the credit card machine as she tapped her payment; she kept her eyes locked on his, a silent, burning challenge that she was no one’s “little girl."

Zoriana practically raced through the final paperwork, terrified the stranger might snatch the motorcycle from her at the last second. But when she finally turned around, he was gone, as if he had never been in the showroom at all. It was unsettling, but Zoriana shook off the unpleasant feeling and happily took delivery of her bike. She couldn't resist stopping at the shop next door for a leather jacket. The moment she donned the jacket and slid onto the Ducati, a wave of new energy and thrill surged through her. She felt the 210-horsepower engine thrumming between her thighs, a mechanical heart that didn't demand obedience, only courage.

She twisted the throttle and zoomed onto the road, racing faster and faster. It felt divine, like she was flying. The world dissolved into a blur of colour, and the roar of the engine drowned out every ghost of her past. In that slipstream of pure speed, she was no longer a she-wolf bound by gravity or grief, but a streak of lightning chasing its own thunder.

When she finally pulled over at a mountain peak, her heart was hammering against her ribs, her skin still buzzing from the vibration of the engine and the whip of the wind. She took a moment to breathe in the scent of pine and heated exhaust before looking down at her new land. The plot she had selected was exceptionally beautiful: emerald grass, a winding river, and a breathtaking view of the peaks. She pictured exactly where she would build the pack house and the training grounds, and perhaps horse stables and a dock for canoes to paddle down the river. So many dreams and plans were popping into her head, and for the first time, she felt truly confident she could achieve them all.

Then, a rotten, metallic scent hit her nostrils. She turned sharply, her Alpha instincts screaming. Four men were approaching her with wild, predatory grins.

Rogues.

“Well, well… such a beauty all alone in the woods,” said the older one, his eyes crawling over her body with a sickening hunger. “You’re just like a little Red Riding Hood, aren't you? Only we don't need your pies or your grandmother.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a guttural, filthy rasp. “We only want your body and your life. By the time we’re done using you, there won't be enough left of you to bury.”

Zoriana narrowed her eyes. She was not the helpless Luna they expected. The loud snapping of bones filled the air as the men shifted. Zoriana shifted to Kalina. Four large grey wolves circled Kalina, ready to pounce. Adrenaline surged through her, and she prepared to lunge—but suddenly, the sun was blocked out by an enormous, enveloping shadow.

An extremely large black wolf leapt out of nowhere, ripping out the throat of the lead rogue in a single, brutal motion. He was a titan, larger and more commanding than even Ryder's wolf, Blaze. He moved with a violent sort of grace, finishing the second and fourth wolves while Kalina tore into the third.

When the carnage ended, he turned his snout toward her. His piercing blue eyes met hers, and her breath hitched. The wolf was a mountain of black fur and muscle that made Ryder’s wolf look like a common stray. But it was the white crescent moon on his ear that stopped her heart—a mark that only belonged to the blood of Kings. Before she could shift or speak, he darted into the forest, vanishing as quickly as he had appeared.

Zoriana shifted back, looking down at the blood staining the emerald grass. This wasn't a random hunt; they were tracking her. Who sent them? And more importantly, why was a member of the Royal bloodline watching over her?

She bit her lip, the mystery of ordered rogue attack and the black wolf swirling together in her mind. She would find the answers. She always did.