Ten

I recognized them. Or rather, I recognized the type.

They were from the other pack—the one that stayed on the other side of our territory. The Stormrider pack. The rogues.

There had always been fights and squabbles between our territories. Border skirmishes. Stolen prey. Petty grievances that sometimes turned bloody.

Father hated the Alpha of this pack with a passion that bordered on obsession. He called him a disgrace. A rogue. A bastard who didn't deserve to call himself Alpha.

And now I was in his territory, right in his hands.

If Father could see me now, would he even care? Or would he consider this poetic justice—his worthless daughter ending up with his greatest enemy?

The thought made something bitter twist in my chest.

"You know he wouldn't have permitted us," the second man said, leaning against the doorjamb. His gaze never left me, like I might suddenly sprout fangs and attack.

A frown tugged at my brows.

He. Who was 'he'?

It must be the Alpha, obviously. But the way they said it—with that mixture of respect and fear—told me this wasn't just any pack leader.

So that bastard who ordered me to be killed had no right to?

What an asshole. I frowned, rolling my eyes at him and hissing at him as I returned to my normal self.

Pretending to be weak had almost gotten me killed. I'd never do that again.

But then I thought—whoever he was, they feared or respected him deeply.

This was someone even these hardened men were afraid to cross.

My pulse quickened. Was that good for me or bad?

Before I could figure it out, I heard it.

The rumble of an engine from a motorcycle. It sounded deep and powerful, and it was getting closer.

A motorcycle that sounded just like mine.

The sound brought it all back in a rush—Ice's final roar as we flew off the cliff, the way her headlight spiraled into darkness, the cold certainty that I'd lost the only thing that was truly mine.

I blinked back the sudden sting of tears.

This wasn't Ice's engine.

Ice was gone.

And I needed to accept that and move on.

The two men suddenly looked nervous and unsettled as they exchanged quick glances.

"He's here," one whispered, and they immediately moved to stand on either side of the door like guards.

Like soldiers awaiting inspection.

I thought of Ice again. Stupid. She was gone. Stop thinking about her.

Curse those wolves who'd chased me. Curse all of this.

Heavy footsteps approached the door slowly, and each step was filled with confidence and power. The kind of walk that said the person knew they owned everything they saw.

Biker boots, I realized distantly. Heavy, steel-toed biker boots.

I wondered absently where all my clothes had gone. Someone had changed me while I was unconscious—stripped off my torn, bloody jacket and jeans and put me in this thin cotton dress and bandages.

The thought made me feel exposed in a way that had nothing to do with the fabric.

My hand went instinctively to my chest, feeling for the necklace.

It was still there. I sighed in relief holding it to tightly in my hand.

It was the gift - Stephanie's wolf pendant, pressed against my skin beneath the cotton.

They'd taken my clothes, patched my wounds, and moved me to this room.

But they'd left the necklace.

Why?

Did they not realize what it meant? Or did they just not care?

Either way, I was grateful.

It was the only piece of home I had left.

Then he walked in, and the entire room seemed to shrink.

A presence filled the space—commanding, dangerous, utterly Alpha.

I looked up, and our eyes met.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

My stomach tightened, and my eyes unconsciously brightened, filled with awe.

Damn. I bit my lip without realizing it as I drowned myself in a very beautiful sight.