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4. The Pull
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2025-07-31 14:19:47Kaela’s boots crunched over the frozen ground, the leaves brittle and sharp underfoot — like bones breaking in the silence. Somewhere behind her, the summit fire still burned, but it felt a world away.
No warmth reached her. Not where it mattered.
Not where her hand still burned.
Ronan’s touch had branded her.
It wasn’t just heat. It was a pull. Like her blood had shifted course, like her bones had turned magnetic.
Mate.
She didn’t want that word.
Didn’t want the way it echoed in her every heartbeat.
Back in Frostclaw territory, the cold got worse. Her Alpha didn’t speak to her. Her mother barely met her eyes. And the pack?
They whispered.
“She stood when she wasn’t supposed to.”
“Something happened — I felt it.”
Kaela just kept her head down. She ran herself raw in training. Hunted longer than she needed to. Shifted under the moon when no one was watching, hoping the wind would strip him from her mind.
It didn’t work.
Her wolf shimmered brighter every time — her white fur almost glowing now. Drawing attention she didn’t want.
But she couldn’t stop seeing him. Couldn’t stop hearing him.
And the dreams? They were worse than ever.
Ronan kissed her like he had a right to her. Touched her like he’d earned her. In the dreams, she let him. She wanted him.
And waking up made it worse.
Flushed. Breathless. Furious with herself.
She hated him for being in her head.
Two weeks passed. Then came the full moon. And orders.
“Patrol to the northern ridge. You’re going.”
Fine. Good.
She needed to hit something. Rip into something. Maybe bleed a little.
But the rogues didn’t wait.
They came just after twilight. Starving, wild-eyed things with blood on their muzzles and madness in their bones.
Kaela didn’t get time to think. She shifted mid-run, bones snapping, fur breaking through skin — silver and sharp beneath the moon.
And they saw her.
Not just a threat.
A prize.
Rare. Unclaimed. Powerful.
They came for her.
She took down the first. Slammed him into a tree so hard bark rained down like ash. But there were more. Too many.
She was fast. But not that fast.
Another rogue launched from above. She turned — too late.
Then—
Black. Fast. Violent.
The rogue slammed sideways midair, bones cracking, blood flying.
Kaela hit the ground, chest heaving, ribs screaming.
And then she saw him.
Massive. Black fur. Eyes like gold set on fire.
Ronan.
He didn’t speak. Just stood between her and the rogues like the forest itself would obey him.
One growl from his chest — and the trees shuddered.
Then he moved.
He was brutal. Efficient. Death in motion.
Blood sprayed. Flesh tore. The screams didn’t last long.
When it ended, Ronan turned toward her — already shifting, black fur receding, body reshaping into muscle and skin.
He knelt. Fingers brushing her side where blood welled.
“You’re hurt.”
“You followed me?” she asked, dazed.
He didn’t answer. Just looked at the wound like it had personally offended him.
“They weren’t after your team,” he said. Voice low. Controlled. “They were after you.”
“Because I’m rare?”
“No.” He met her eyes. “Because you’re mine.”
Kaela froze. “Don’t.”
“You felt it.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Neither did I.” His voice cracked, just slightly. No games. Just truth.
He lifted her hand again — that spot. Where it started.
And this time, it lit.
A golden flare. Real. Seen. Felt.
Kaela gasped.
Ronan leaned closer, his voice barely a breath between them. “The bond’s awake. You can’t run from it anymore.”
She didn’t answer right away. Her breath shook.
“What do we do?”
He didn’t smile.
“We survive it.”
They sat there in the moss and blood and silence, everything too loud inside her skin.
The others arrived soon — warriors dragging rogue bodies. They saw him. Ronan. The Alpha of Shadowfang.
No one spoke.
They didn’t need to.
He wasn’t here to start a fight.
He was here for her.
And that scared her more than all the rogues combined.
Later that night, Kaela returned to Frostclaw.
She didn’t sleep.
Not from pain. Not from fear.
But because every time she closed her eyes...
She still felt his hands on her.
And the worst part?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to forget.
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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