Prologue

18 months ago.

LYRA

“Enemy!”

I was in my element.

Which was probably concerning, all things considered.

In my human form, my every nerve ignited, and my heart was hammering so hard it felt like my ribs might crack. I have never been on a battlefield before, and it was like stepping into another world. One where the rules were simple.

One wrong move, and I would die.

But I didn’t care.

I walked through the gates of the pack with my head held high and my silver blade gripped tight in my hand. Trees loomed ahead of me, the pack walls at my back. I planted myself dead centre of the field, right where the chaos was thickest. Wolves shrieked. Witches screamed. The air was thick with smoke and blood. The smoke stung my eyes, and blood spattered my boots.

Immediately, a gray wolf charged at me. My blade sang when I sidestepped and sliced through the flesh of its side. The blood coated my hands, feeling warm and sticky. But I didn’t mind. I dodged another attack, and another.

I moved on instinct. My dagger slid cleanly between ribs, across throats. Every swing of my blade tore through flesh, sinew, and bone, and every strike made my blood sing.

My beast paced beneath my ribs, claws scraping, desperate to be unleashed. But I didn’t shift. And she didn’t push. She just waited, smug, like she knew something I didn’t.

My eyes scanned the battlefield, looking for my next bit of fun, when they landed on that one wolf again.

Pitch black and huge. Bigger than any wolf I have ever seen. His fur was so dark it seemed to reflect the light shining on it. Golden eyes stood stark against his fur.

His golden Alpha power crackled around him like a living shield, striking anyone who came too close with invisible force. Wolves flew back. Witches collapsed, magic snuffed out on contact. No one could touch him. No one could even get close.

He was unstoppable.

And he was coming straight at me.

My knees bent. My breath caught in my throat. I braced myself for the impact. I was ready to hit the dirt, to get crushed.

But when his power collided with me, it didn’t throw me back. It hit like a tidal wave, then wrapped around me instead. I staggered but didn’t fall.

His eyes flashed, sheer fury blazing when he realised I was still standing. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to shift. To run. To submit. My body wanted to bow, to yield, to acknowledge him as something greater.

But I didn’t.

Maybe it was the adrenaline. Instinct. Perhaps just idiotic courage. Because the moment he hesitated, shocked by my defiance, I acted.

Moving behind him, I pressed my silver blade to the black fur at the hollow of his throat. The world narrowed to that single point. The heat of his body. The steel-hard muscles beneath his skin. The impossibly soft, dense fur brushed my arms, my hands, my cheek for one brief, terrifying second.

And for one heartbeat, I thought I had him.

Until he turned.

The wolf moved too fast to track, and my blade was ripped from my hand. He sent it spinning through the air. I barely had time to curse before he lunged. I dove, narrowly avoiding the full force of his attack. Rolling across the ground, my body scraped against the earth. Rock tore at my skin. Dirt filled my mouth. I tried to rise, to regroup, but before I could get fully upright, he was on me.

His massive paws slammed into the ground beside my shoulders, pinning me beneath him. His power swirled around us, forcing everyone else back. His hot breath rolled over my skin, brushing my neck. And I thought:

This is it.

Death.

Oblivion.

I’m done.

I waited for him to rip into my throat. To tear at me the way wolves do.

Instead, I felt only one little sharp sting. One canine pierced the skin of my neck, just enough to draw a thin line of warm blood.

My brain short-circuited. My heart went wild. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

I thought he was some sort of sadistic bastard who played with his food. Who stretched out the inevitable.

But he did the unthinkable. The wolf let out a low, frustrated growl, and pulled his teeth away. A hot, wet tongue met the mark on my neck and licked the blood until my supernatural healing worked its magic.

Every inch of me was painfully aware of him. His power, the heat of his body hovering close, while he deliberately chose not to kill me.

Gods help me… I was alive because he allowed it.

He stepped away. But there was something in his eyes that showed me he hated it.

A few moments later, I stood on shaky legs, grabbed my blade and threw myself back into the fight.

***

That night, after I finally fell asleep, I was awoken by a thunderstorm. The lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating my room. It was followed by thunder so startling, the windows shook.

I closed my eyes and relived the events of the day. The first time I killed. Even then I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

My beast enjoyed it too much. And I? I felt powerful. Invincible. My chest filled with pride at being able to help protect the pack. Never in a million years did I think that I would become a threat to them.

My mind went back to that wolf. The way he looked at me. The way he felt. And the way he left me like I wasn’t even worth the kill. But there was something in his eyes. Something I couldn’t quite explain. Something terrified me.

And excited me.

I groaned, and kicked the sheets off me. They suddenly felt too tight. Too suffocating.

Because there must be something wrong with me? How could anyone wish for another encounter with him? Did I have a death wish?

I should just thank the goddess that he spared me. And then move on.

Until I looked out the window, and was met with two glowing golden eyes. My breathing turned shallow. My hands turned clammy. I swear, my heart stopped.

Had he returned to finish the job?

Did he regret letting me live?

How did he even get past the pack patrols?

There were too many questions, with no answers.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, just staring at each other through the window.

At one point, his gaze moved over my body. Probably taking in my short, silk pj’s. The shirt that had ridden up over my waist. The pants that sat, just a little too tight over my ass.

He left a few hours before dawn.

And the next night? I’m ashamed to say I waited for him. But he didn’t watch me again.

I was certain I would never see that wolf again.

I have never been more wrong.