Chapter 2

Evie didn’t remember leaving the clearing.

One moment, the entire pack was staring at her like she was something unnatural—something wrong—and the next, she was running.

Branches tore at her arms as she pushed through the forest, breath coming in ragged bursts. The bond still pulsed in her chest, sharp and relentless, like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to her.

Three heartbeats.

Three presences.

Three wolves.

Her stomach twisted.

“No…” she whispered, shaking her head as if she could physically dislodge the feeling. “No, this isn’t real.”

But it was.

She could still feel them.

Gunner—heavy, dominant, suffocating.

Alaric—sharp, restless, prowling at the edges.

Magnus—quieter… but steady. Watching.

Waiting.

Evie stumbled to a stop near the river that marked the edge of the training grounds, bracing her hands against a tree as nausea rolled through her.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

Mates were chosen by the Moon Goddess. Sacred. Unbreakable.

Not cruel.

Not them.

A bitter laugh slipped from her lips, quickly swallowed by the night.

“Of all the people…” she muttered hoarsely.

Her reflection wavered in the dark water—small, shaken, eyes too wide. Still human. Still nothing.

Three weeks.

Three weeks until her first shift.

Three weeks too early for any of this.

The bond flared again.

Pain lanced through her chest, forcing a gasp from her lips.

And then—

A voice.

“Stop running.”

Evie jerked upright, spinning around.

“Who’s there?”

Silence.

Only the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of insects filled the air.

Her heart pounded.

“I’m not—” she swallowed, backing away from the river, “—I’m not ready for this. I don’t even have a wolf yet.”

“You do.”

The voice was quieter this time.

Stronger.

Not outside.

Inside.

Evie froze.

Her breath hitched as something deep within her stirred—something ancient, stretching like it had been asleep for far too long.

“No…” she whispered, fear creeping into her voice. “That’s not possible.”

First shifts didn’t work like this.

You didn’t hear your wolf before you turned.

You didn’t feel it like this—like it was already awake, already watching.

“They felt it.”

Evie’s chest tightened.

“I don’t care what they felt.”

But that wasn’t true.

She did care.

Because for a split second back in that clearing… they had felt it too.

And then they rejected it.

Rejected her.

Her jaw clenched as heat rose behind her eyes.

“I don’t want them,” she said, more firmly now. “I don’t need them.”

A pause.

Then—

“Liar.”

The word hit harder than it should have.

Evie sucked in a sharp breath, shaking her head.

“No,” she insisted, voice trembling despite her effort. “They’ve made it very clear what they think of me.”

Memories flashed—laughter, insults, the way Damon’s voice always carried just enough charm to make the cruelty sting deeper… the way Donovan never bothered hiding his disdain… the way Devin—

Her chest ached.

Devin, who watched.

Devin, who never stopped it.

Her fingers curled into fists.

“I won’t beg for scraps,” she whispered. “Not from them.”

The bond pulsed again.

Not painful this time.

Just… there.

Constant.

Unyielding.

“Good.”

Evie blinked.

“What?”

But the presence inside her had already retreated, settling back into the depths of her mind like it had said enough.

Like it was waiting.

For her.

A branch snapped behind her.

Evie spun around, heart leaping into her throat.

“Relax.”

Damon.

Of course.

He leaned casually against a tree, arms crossed, expression unreadable in the dim light. But there was no teasing smile this time. No mocking tilt to his voice.

Just tension.

“What do you want?” Evie snapped, taking a step back.

His eyes flickered—briefly—to the distance between them.

Like he noticed.

Like it mattered.

“That’s a loaded question,” he said dryly.

“Then pick a better answer.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The forest seemed to hold its breath.

Damon exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t have run off like that.”

Evie let out a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to stay so you could reject me again in front of everyone?”

His jaw tightened.

“That’s not—”

“Don’t,” she cut in sharply. “Don’t pretend this is anything other than what it is.”

“And what is that?” he challenged, stepping closer.

Evie didn’t move.

Didn’t retreat.

Even as the bond flared between them, pulling, twisting—

She held her ground.

“It’s a mistake,” she said, meeting his gaze. “One you’re clearly desperate to fix.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Damon said quietly. “We are.”

The words landed like a slap.

Evie forced herself not to react.

Not to let it show.

“Good,” she replied, lifting her chin. “Because I don’t want you either.”

Silence.

The bond twisted sharply—pain lacing through it now.

Damon flinched.

Actually flinched.

His hand pressed briefly against his chest before dropping again.

His eyes snapped to hers, something raw breaking through his composure.

“You don’t mean that.”

Evie’s heart pounded.

But she didn’t look away.

“Watch me.”

The air between them crackled.

For a second—just a second—something dangerous passed over his face.

Not anger.

Not cruelty.

Something… conflicted.

Then it was gone.

Buried.

Replaced with something colder.

“Fine,” Damon said flatly. “You want nothing to do with us? That can be arranged.”

Evie swallowed.

“Good.”

He nodded once.

Sharp.

Final.

Then he turned and disappeared into the trees without another word.

Evie stood there long after he was gone, her body trembling despite her efforts to stay still.

The bond throbbed painfully in her chest.

Three threads.

Fraying.

Straining.

But not breaking.

Never breaking.

She sank slowly to the ground, wrapping her arms around herself as the night closed in.

“I meant it,” she whispered, though her voice lacked the conviction she wanted.

Deep inside, something stirred again.

Watching.

Waiting.

Knowing.

And far back toward the clearing—

Three Alpha wolves stood in silence beneath the moon.

Gunner paced, restless and furious.

Alaric snapped and snarled, agitated beyond reason.

Magnus… watched the forest.

Watched her.

Because no matter how much they denied it—

No matter how much they tried to fight it—

The truth had already sunk its claws in.

And it wasn’t letting go.

Not of them.

Not of her.

Not of what was coming next.