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2. Shadowfang & Silver Eyes
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2025-07-31 14:17:03The Shadowfang camp wasn’t pretty.
It clung to the mountains like a scar, all sharp edges and black stone. The trees out here didn’t grow straight—they twisted toward the sky like they hated it. Wind cut through the peaks, high and constant, like something was always screaming.
Ronan stood at the edge of the overlook, arms folded, staring toward the horizon like he could burn a hole straight through it.
“She in your head again?” Darrow asked, stepping up behind him.
Ronan didn’t answer right away. Didn’t have to. His Beta had known him too long.
“I keep tellin’ you,” Darrow went on, voice low. “You don’t dream about the same damn wolf night after night unless fate’s got somethin’ nasty planned.”
Ronan exhaled hard through his nose. “Dreams are weakness.”
“Yeah?” Darrow snorted. “And yours are unusually specific for a guy who don’t believe in ‘em.”
She wasn’t just a wolf.
She was... fire and snow, lightning and silence. Her eyes, silver. Her scent, like frost right before the storm breaks. Every time she came to him, it was like drowning in heat and freezing at the same time. And always—always—she slipped away before he could speak.
It had started about a month ago. The dreams. The ache. At first, he figured it was stress—pressure from leading a pack constantly two inches from bloodshed. But lately?
He woke up with her scent still in his throat.
Wild. Clean. Sharp.
Mate.
He hadn’t said it out loud. He wouldn’t.
That word was dangerous. It cracked you open, made you soft. His father had mated once—and died bleeding in the snow, gutted by a Frostclaw wolf during a summit meant for peace.
Ronan was seventeen when that happened. That was the day he became Alpha.
And the day he stopped trusting anything with a name like destiny.
“Summit’s in two nights,” Darrow said, pulling out a scroll and handing it over. “Frostclaw’s comin’. They’re sending their Gammas. Maybe even their Alpha, if the bastard’s brave enough.”
Ronan unrolled the parchment, eyes flicking over names, schedules, border coordinates. Standard crap.
Still, his pulse ticked faster.
“She’s gonna be there,” he said under his breath.
Darrow raised a brow. “Who?”
He didn’t reply. Just turned and walked toward the inner sanctum, where their pack seal flickered in silver-blue fire across the stone wall.
He didn’t care what fate wanted.
He was going to find her.
That night, Ronan couldn’t sleep. Of course he couldn’t.
He stood alone at the edge of Shadowfang land, where the trees thinned and the mountains dipped into the old pass. A ward shimmered across the air, ancient and barely holding.
Then he felt it.
Not saw—felt. A tug in his chest. The air grew heavier, electric. Pine and frost rushed into his lungs.
And she was there.
Just across the barrier. Hooded. Slim. Still.
Even with trees between them, he knew her.
Not a dream. Not a story.
Her.
His wolf pushed up inside him, desperate, aching.
Mate.
The word tore through him like a blade made of heat.
Her eyes lifted. Silver. Familiar.
For one second, they just stared.
And then—she was gone.
Just like that.
Ronan didn’t move. Couldn’t. The forest felt too quiet now, like it was holding its breath.
In Frostclaw, Kaela woke choking on air.
Her skin was clammy. Her hands shook. Her wolf was pacing in circles inside her chest.
That wasn’t a dream.
That was real.
She’d seen him. Not a blur or a whisper. Him.
Golden eyes. Cut jaw. The kind of presence that didn’t just fill a room—it claimed it.
Not soft. Not kind.
Power, barely contained.
And he didn’t attack. Didn’t speak. He just looked.
As if he’d been waiting for her too.
Her wolf whimpered and pressed against her ribs.
He’s the one.
Kaela curled in on herself, hands over her face. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Mate bonds were fairy tales. Simple. Gentle. This was... a storm.
Gravity.
She was already falling.
Next morning, she avoided everyone.
Skipped training. Didn’t open the door when her father knocked. Even the Beta’s daughter couldn’t get anything out of her—and that girl could sniff gossip like a bloodhound.
Kaela found herself hunched over a sketchpad.
She didn’t mean to draw him. But there he was.
First the eyes. Gold. Intense. A little feral.
Then a brow with a scar. A hard jaw. Big hands—scarred and rough.
She got to his lips and her pencil snapped.
Too soft. Too dangerous.
She shoved the page away like it burned.
She didn’t want this.
Didn’t need a mate, especially not him. Not now, when she had to hide what she was, when the summit was days away, when her future was finally almost in reach.
But none of that mattered.
The bond didn’t care.
It just was.
Ronan splashed water over his face back at his quarters, his breath sharp and uneven.
Not a dream.
She was real. The white wolf.
Flesh. Blood. Moonlight.
A myth to most. But now, a tether wrapped tight around his soul.
He didn’t want it.
Didn’t want her.
He wanted control.
And now? He had none.
Darrow showed up in the doorway. “Alpha?”
“What.”
“You look like hell.”
“I feel worse.”
“You can still back outta the summit.”
Ronan turned slow, gaze cold. “If I run, they win. So does fate.”
He grabbed his sword, strapped it to his side, and walked straight into the freezing night.
He had a summit to attend.
And a mate to claim.
Latest chapter
Claimed by the Enemy Alpha 67. The First Crack
Morning in the White didn’t happen the way it did anywhere else.It didn’t break. It leaked.Thin strips of weak light bled through the skeletal trees, painting everything in washed-out gray. The frost clung stubbornly to the ground, whispering under Kaela’s boots as she sat up in the cold.She’d slept—sort of—but every time she’d drifted off, the whisper had been there. That same curl of almost-words brushing her ear. She couldn’t remember them when she opened her eyes, but she remembered the feeling they left—like something cold had crawled under her skin and stayed there.The camp was quiet except for Dax, crouched over the embers of a dying fire, coaxing it back to life with slow, careful movements. Steam rose from his mouth in little bursts.“He’s out there,” he said without looking at her.She rubbed her face. “You mean Ronan.”“Who else?” Dax smirked faintly. “Eastern edge. He’s been there a while.”Of course he had.Kaela pulled on her boots and followed the trail—big, deliber
Claimed by the Enemy Alpha 66. Night Watch
The White never really slept.It just shifted—breathing in long, cold exhales, rustling in places where there was no wind, creaking like the bones of something ancient.Kaela sat by the half-burned fire, chin tucked into her scarf, eyes locked on the tree line. Her wolf was restless. Her turn on watch. She should have been alone, but Ronan was out there too, pacing the shadows like a caged predator.“You can sit, you know,” she called out quietly.“I’m not tired.” His voice came from somewhere to her right—rougher, lower, like the night made it heavier.“You’re always not tired.”He didn’t answer, didn’t even pause. Just kept moving. His boots crunched over frostbitten ground, slow deliberate circles skirting the outer edge of the firelight. It was the kind of movement that made you feel watched even when you were the one watching.Kaela’s teeth caught on her lip. She told herself she was listening for threats, but her focus kept drifting to him instead—the way he moved with that cont
Claimed by the Enemy Alpha 65. One Blanket
The fire was low, more embers than flame, exactly how Ronan kept it. The kind of fire that gave just enough heat to stop their fingers from going numb, but not enough to light them up like a beacon in the White.The air beyond that soft glow felt alive in the wrong way. Heavy. Watching. Kaela’s instincts kept brushing the edges of something—too faint to catch, too patient to reveal itself. The cold seemed sharper because of it, like the air itself wanted them brittle.She was on the far side of the fire, legs tucked under herself, dagger across her lap. She’d been telling herself she’d make it through the night awake, that she’d watch him do those constant perimeter sweeps and keep her own eyes open, that the cold wouldn’t matter. But the White had its own rules, and right now, her body was losing to them.“You’re shivering,” Ronan’s voice cut across the crackle of the wood.She looked up. “I’m fine.”His head tilted slightly. “That wasn’t a question.”Kaela smirked, but it was short-
Claimed by the Enemy Alpha 64. Between Teeth and Silence
The White swallowed sound whole.Not like the forests Kaela knew, where the wind could scream through the branches or the snow could crunch underfoot loud enough to give you away for miles. Here, the silence was heavier. Thick. It clung to her ears until even her own breathing sounded like an intrusion.She hated this place.Not just for the cold — though the cold here wasn’t a thing that bit and then went away. It was a slow invasion, a thing that crept into her blood and made her wonder if her heart was still beating at the right speed. But worse than that was how the White erased the world. No color. No smell. No movement unless you made it yourself. The White didn’t just hide things. It made you question if they’d ever been real.A lone figure cut through that emptiness ahead of her — Ronan, a shadow against the pale world. His shoulders rolled with each step in that steady, predatory rhythm he had, even when they weren’t tracking prey. He didn’t look back. Didn’t need to. She kne
Claimed by the Enemy Alpha 63. The Trail Left for You
Kaela woke with the kind of unease that didn’t belong to dreams.It wasn’t the cold that roused her—though the cold was a living thing here, biting and needling until your skin felt too tight—it was the quiet.Too quiet.Camp was never silent. Even in the dead of night, there was always something: the soft crunch of patrol boots, Lira’s low pacing hum, Ronan’s steady breath moving past her tent. This morning, though… nothing.When she pushed herself upright, the world outside looked wrong. The snow should’ve been broken and messy from movement—patrol shifts, restless wolves—but it was smooth. Unbroken. Glittering under the thin throat of dawn like it hadn’t been touched since it fell.Except for one thing.A single, perfect mark slicing across the whiteness. Narrow. Unwavering.It started just inside the ward line.Ended at Ronan’s boots.Her stomach dropped.“Ronan—”“I see it.” His voice was low, gravel dragged over stone. Either he hadn’t slept, or the night had taken more from him
Claimed by the Enemy Alpha 62. The Breath Behind You
Kaela didn’t sleep.Not because she wanted to be heroic about it—her body begged for rest, muscles throbbing from the day’s march—but every time her eyes slipped shut, the fire’s glow dimmed just enough for the dark to lean in.And in the dark… she could hear it.That sound from earlier—low, slow, deliberate. A breath so long it felt wrong. Not like lungs filling because they had to. Like it was done on purpose. For her.Lira was half-dozing near the fire, bow balanced in her lap, head tilting forward only to jerk back up. Her lips moved now and then—those old-words again—but she never said them loud enough for Kaela to catch.Ronan hadn’t sat down once. He was still a dark shape at the edge of camp, standing with his back to them, staring into the tree line like he could force the shadows to give up their secrets.The snow glowed faintly under the half-moon. It made the shapes between the drifts look like they were moving—just at the corner of her vision—never when she looked straigh
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