Chapter 1

Pain.

It's all I feel.

Everything hurts. Breathing hurts. Moving hurts. Thinking hurts.

Existing... hurts.

I taste blood.

It coats the back of my tongue, metallic and thick, sliding down my throat with every swallow. I try not to. It hurts too much.

The forest floor is cold beneath me. Damp. The scent of wet earth fills my lungs, heavy and suffocating. My fingers twitch against leaves matted with mud and something much darker, stickier—more blood.

I don't remember falling.

I do remember running. Running as if my life depended on it. It had.

Boots crashing behind me.

Gunfire splitting the air.

The sound of my own breathing breaking apart.

Hunters.

The word drifts through my head like smoke.

I try to move. My body doesn't respond the way it should. My ribs scream in protest. Something sharp digs into my side every time I draw breath.

I should shift.

That's the instinct. The answer. The survival mechanism that's been carved into my bones.

But nothing happens.

The wolf inside me is silent.

Not dead.

Just... quiet. A scary quiet. Not a peaceful, quiet, but an empty, lonely, and lethal sort of quiet.

"Come on," I whisper to myself, though my voice barely exists. "Come on."

If I can shift, I can heal faster. If I can shift, I can run.

But the silence inside me stretches wider.

A branch snaps somewhere in the distance.

My heart stutters.

They found me.

Panic slams into my chest, and I try to will my body to get up. To move. To run away from its impending end. I'm able to force my body to roll onto my side. Pain explodes white-hot across my ribs, and I choke on it, teeth grinding hard enough to crack.

I won't die like this.

Not on my back.

Not begging like a little bitch.

Another sound. Then another.

Closer.

Soft.

Not human.

The air changes. The forest goes still in a way that feels... wrong. The hunters never move like that. This is quieter. More deliberate.

A new scent cuts through the damp earth and blood. It's not anything special, but it's different. Sharp. Clean. Dominant.

My pulse spikes in confusion. That isn't a hunter.

That's—

The underbrush parts and he steps into view. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Still as stone. The darkness doesn't swallow him — it bends around him.

His eyes find me instantly. Gray. Assessing. Not surprised. Not alarmed. Certain. As if they already knew what they were about to find.

For one suspended second, neither of us moves. His gaze drags over me — the blood, the broken posture, the weakness I can't hide, and something shifts in his expression. Not pity. Something sharper.

Anger.

I bare my teeth on instinct, even as my vision blurs. "Stay back." The command comes out fractured.

He doesn't listen. He takes one slow step forward. The ground feels like it tilts toward him. I try to push up again, but my arms give out. My body betrays me, collapsing back into the dirt. Rage flares hotter than the pain and drowns out the embarrassment.

I hate this. I hate him seeing me like this. His nostrils flare subtly. He can smell it. My blood. My weakness. And something else.

His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

"Who did this?" he asks.

His voice is low. Controlled. It vibrates through the air instead of cutting it.

Alpha.

The realization hits even through the fog. Every instinct inside me should lower its head. It doesn't.

"None of your business," I force out.

His gaze sharpens. For a flicker of a second, something feral flashes behind his eyes — not loss of control, but something fighting to surface. Then he kneels, the movement slow. Intentional. As if approaching something dangerous.

Me.

His hand hovers near my side, not touching yet. Heat radiates from him, close enough now that I can feel it through the cold. I flinch anyway. His hand stills, and that's when I feel it.

A pulse?

Not from him but from inside me. The wolf that wouldn't answer before stirs. Weakly, but it stirs.

My breath catches. He notices. Of course, he notices.

His eyes darken.

"Easy," he murmurs.

Not to command me. To calm me. And somehow... that's worse.

"I'm not your—" I start, but my words fracture into a cough.

Blood splatters the leaves between us. His expression changes completely. The restraint doesn't disappear. It tightens. He moves closer without asking. One arm slides behind my shoulders, careful but firm. The other braces at my waist. His touch is warm.

Solid.

Unyielding.

Every nerve in my body reacts at once — pain, adrenaline, something hotter beneath it.

I shove weakly against his chest.

"Don't."

He looks down at me. There is nothing soft in his face. Nothing gentle. Just certainty.

"So I should just leave you out here to die?" he asks, gaze hard.

It isn't a question that requires an answer. It's a decision. And before I can argue, before I can fight, before I can even decide if I want to—

The world tilts.

He lifts me. Like I weigh nothing. The forest shifts around us as he turns, moving deeper into territory that suddenly feels claimed. My vision blurs again, darkness creeping at the edges. But just before everything fades, I hear it. Not his voice. Not the forest. Something inside me.

Faint.

Whispered.

Aaron will make everything okay.

———