CHAPTER 1

"You're late, Savannah. Again."

My father’s voice, rough as grinding stones, hit me the second I stepped into the Reed Pack's main hall. Mason Reed didn’t look up from the maps spread across the heavy oak table. He didn't have to. His Alpha senses probably picked up my scent—pine and rain—before I’d even cleared the tree line.

"The perimeter fence was down near the creek," I said, my voice steady despite the way my heart hammered against my ribs. "I was fixing it."

"You were chasing ghosts," he snapped, finally meeting my gaze. His eyes, a piercing amber, narrowed. "You're wolfless, Savannah. A human in a den of monsters. You have no business near the borders. If a rogue caught your scent, you’d be shredded before you could scream."

"I can handle a silver blade better than most of the Sentinels," I countered.

Mason scoffed, the sound vibrating in his barrel chest. "A toothpick against a hurricane. Get to the kitchen. Your mother and Vanessa are prepping for the Lunar Union. Grayson Cole arrives at sundown."

The name felt like a physical weight. Grayson Cole. The Alpha of the Black Ridge Pack. A man whispered about in hushed, terrified tones. They called him the Shadow King. And I was the sacrificial lamb being offered to ensure the Reed Pack’s survival.

"I'm not a bartering chip, Dad."

"You're a Reed. You'll do what's necessary." He turned back to his maps, dismissing me like a faulty piece of equipment.

I turned on my heel, my boots thudding against the stone floor. I didn't head for the kitchen. I headed for the stables, the only place where the scent of wet fur and musk didn't make me feel like an outsider.

I was halfway there when a hand clamped onto my shoulder. I spun, my hand instinctively reaching for the dagger hidden in my boot.

"Whoa, easy there, Little Wolf."

Dominic Russo grinned at me, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. He was one of the few who didn't look at me with pity. To him, I was just Savannah.

"Don't call me that, Dom," I grumbled, relaxing my stance. "What do you want?"

"The Alpha's looking for you. Said something about a guest?"

"Grayson Cole," I spat the name out.

Dominic’s grin faded. "The Black Ridge Alpha? Fuck, Savannah. I heard he tore out his own Beta’s throat for breathing too loud."

"Great. I’ll make sure to hold my breath," I muttered, pushing past him.

I needed air. Real air, not the stifling, ego-drenched atmosphere of the Pack House. I headed toward the old stone bridge that marked the boundary between our lands and the Wilds. It was a place of moss and shadows, where the sweet gum trees grew thick and gnarled.

I climbed onto the railing, dangling my legs over the rushing water below. The trees here were strange—their bark was corky and rough, hiding a deep, blood-red heartwood. The elders said they were like werewolves: a deceptive exterior masking a powerful core.

I felt like the opposite. A plain exterior with nothing but hollow human bones inside.

A twig snapped in the brush behind me.

I didn't turn. "If you're here to tell me to go put on a dress, Dom, save it."

"I don't think a dress would suit you," a voice rasped.

It wasn't Dominic. This voice was deeper, vibrating with a raw, predatory power that made the hair on my arms stand up. I slowly turned my head.

A man stood at the edge of the clearing. He was massive, his shoulders broad enough to block out the fading sun. He wore dark tactical gear, his black hair shaggy and unkempt. But it was his eyes that stopped my breath. They weren't amber or blue. They were the color of cold flint, sharp and unnervingly intelligent.

"Grayson Cole," I breathed.

He didn't move, yet he seemed to fill the entire space between us. "Savannah Reed."

"You're early," I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling.

"I grew bored of the road." He stepped closer, his movements fluid and silent, like a mountain lion stalking prey. He stopped just inches from me. I could smell him now—leather, woodsmoke, and a dark, intoxicating musk that made my stomach flip.

He reached out, his fingers calloused and warm as they brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, a primal reaction I couldn't explain.

"They didn't tell me the Reed Alpha’s daughter was so... fragile," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw.

"I'm not fragile," I snapped, slapping his hand away.

Grayson chuckled, a low, dark sound. "No? You're a human in a world of wolves, Savannah. That makes you either very brave or very stupid."

"Maybe I'm both."

He stepped even closer, his body heat radiating off him in waves. He was so tall I had to crane my neck to look at him. "We'll see."

Before I could respond, he grabbed my waist, his large hands nearly meeting around my middle. He hoisted me off the railing like I weighed nothing. My breath hitched as my chest pressed against his hard, muscular torso.

"What the hell are you doing?" I gasped, my hands landing on his shoulders. The muscle beneath his shirt felt like solid iron.

"Checking the merchandise," he growled, his eyes darkening.

He didn't let go. Instead, he pulled me tighter, his grip possessive. I should have been terrified. I should have been reaching for my blade. But my body was traitorous. My pulse was racing, a heavy, thrumming beat in my ears.

Grayson leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck. "You smell like rain," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "And fear. But there’s something else. Something... sweet."

He nipped at my earlobe, and a sharp sob escaped my throat. It wasn't fear. It was a sudden, overwhelming surge of desire that threatened to consume me.

"Stop," I managed to say, though my hands were busy clutching at his hair.

"Make me," he challenged, his voice a low rumble against my skin.

He moved his hand from my waist, sliding it down to cup my rear, squeezing firmly. I gasped, my legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. He groaned, a deep, animalistic sound, and backed me against the nearest sweet gum tree. The rough bark bit into my back, but I barely felt it. All I felt was him.

His mouth found mine in a brutal, demanding kiss. It wasn't a request; it was a conquest. He tasted of salt and something dark, his tongue invading my mouth with a confidence that left me reeling.

I fought back, matching his intensity, my fingers digging into the thick muscles of his back. He moved one hand between us, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt. He ripped them open, the small plastic discs scattering into the grass.

He pulled back for a second, his eyes roaming over my lace bra. "Beautiful," he rasped.

He didn't waste time. He unclipped the front of my bra, my breasts spilling out into his waiting hands. He groaned again, his thumbs circling my nipples until they were hard peaks.

"Grayson..." I whimpered, my head lolling back against the tree.

He dropped to his knees, his face level with my chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it before he began to suckle deeply. I cried out, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer.

The sensation was electric, a direct line of heat traveling from my chest to the ache between my legs. He moved to the other breast, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making me writhe against the tree.

"Please," I begged, though I wasn't sure what I was asking for.

He looked up at me, his eyes wild and predatory. "Please what, Savannah? Tell me what you want."

"I... I need..."

He stood up, his height intimidating once more. He reached for his belt, his eyes never leaving mine. He unbuckled it, his movements slow and deliberate. He pushed his tactical pants down, revealing a thick, pulsing cock that looked monstrous in the moonlight.

My eyes widened. I’d seen men before, but nothing like this. He was thick, the veins standing out against his dark skin.

"Touch it," he commanded.

I reached out, my fingers trembling as they closed around him. He was hot, like he was made of molten lead. I slid my hand up and down, marveling at the sheer size of him. He hissed through his teeth, his head dropping back.

"Enough," he growled, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head against the tree.

He used his other hand to hike my skirt up, his fingers finding my damp panties. He didn't bother taking them off; he simply pushed the silk aside.

"You're soaking for me," he whispered, his finger sliding into my slick heat.

I let out a strangled cry as he began to work his finger inside me, his thumb rubbing against my swollen clit. I was shaking, my knees buckling, but he held me upright, his body a solid wall against mine.

"I'm going to ruin you, Savannah," he promised, his voice thick with lust. "I'm going to mark you so deep you'll forget your own name."

He withdrew his finger and positioned himself at my entrance. I felt the blunt head of him pressing against me, and I braced myself.

"Look at me," he barked.

I forced my eyes open, meeting his flinty gaze.

With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside me.

The pain was sharp, a momentary tearing sensation that was immediately drowned out by a wave of incredible fullness. I screamed into the night, the sound echoing through the trees. He stayed still for a moment, letting me adjust to his size. I felt stretched to the breaking point, my internal muscles clenching around him.

"So tight," he groaned, his face contorted with effort.

He began to move, slow at first, then faster. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through me that made my vision blur. He was relentless, his body slamming against mine with a primal rhythm. The sound of our skin meeting—a wet, slapping noise—filled the air.

I was lost in it. The scent of him, the weight of him, the way he filled every inch of me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down so I could bite his shoulder, my teeth sinking into the hard muscle.

He roared, his pace increasing until he was pounding into me with a ferocity that left me breathless. I felt the climax building, a pressure at the base of my spine that was becoming unbearable.

"Grayson! I'm... I'm going to..."

"Do it," he growled, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. "Come for me, Savannah."

I shattered. My world exploded into a million shards of white light as my walls pulsed around him in rhythmic waves of pure ecstasy. I heard myself screaming his name, my body arching off the tree as the pleasure ripped through me.

Grayson let out a guttural howl, his body tensing as he followed me over the edge. I felt the hot jet of his seed filling me, pulse after pulse, until we were both spent.

He collapsed against me, his heavy head resting on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a long time, the only sound the rushing water of the creek and our synchronized, ragged breathing.

Finally, he pulled back, his eyes searching mine. The predatory glint was still there, but it was tempered by something else. Something that looked almost like respect.

"The union starts tomorrow," he said, his voice returning to its usual gravelly tone. He reached down and began to adjust his clothing.

I slumped against the tree, my legs shaking so hard I could barely stand. My shirt was ruined, my skin was stinging, and I could feel his warmth dripping down my thighs.

"You're not what I expected," I whispered.

Grayson paused, his hand on his belt. He looked back at me, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "And you're not as human as they say, Little Wolf."

He turned and disappeared into the shadows of the sweet gum trees, leaving me alone in the dark.

I stood there for a long time, trying to wrap my mind around what had just happened. I was supposed to be a sacrifice. I was supposed to hate him. But as I looked down at the ruined silk of my panties, I knew one thing for certain.

The Reed Pack hadn't just sold me to a monster. They’d handed me the keys to the kingdom.

I started back toward the Pack House, my mind racing. I needed to find Vanessa. She always knew the gossip. If Grayson Cole was here, the balance of power in the valley was about to shift, and I intended to be on the winning side.

As I approached the main gates, I saw a figure waiting for me. It was Lily Brooks, the pack’s healer and the closest thing I had to a sister. She looked worried, her eyes darting toward the woods I’d just emerged from.

"Savannah! Where have you been? Your father is furious. He’s been looking—" She stopped abruptly, her nose crinkling as she caught my scent. Her eyes widened, traveling from my bruised lips to my torn shirt. "Oh, Goddess. Savannah, what did you do?"

I didn't answer. I just pushed past her, my head held high.

"Tell my father I'll be down for dinner," I said over my shoulder. "And tell him I've decided I like the Shadow King after all."

I didn't see the shadow moving in the upper window of the Pack House. I didn't see the cold, calculating eyes of one of the servants. 

And I certainly didn't see the silver blade he was sharpening.