Chapter 2

Caspian

The wind changed.

One moment, it was clean—carrying only pine, soil, and the usual scent of prey. The next, it hit me like a punch to the chest.

Lavender. Storms. Something wild.

I staggered, hand snapping out to brace myself against the nearest tree as heat erupted behind my ribcage. My wolf went dead silent—then growled low and slow, a sound he’d never made before.

Mate.

I hadn't even shifted, but my senses sharpened instantly. Every nerve lit up with instinct. My pulse roared.

I turned toward the east, toward the faint trail only I could smell.

It wasn’t a scent that belonged here.

I’d been roaming these northern woods for weeks, avoiding politics, borders, and all the expectations my title brought with it. I didn’t want to be Alpha. Not again. Not after what happened last time.

But now... the Moon Goddess had other plans.

My mate was near.

And she was hurting.

My boots were already moving before I realized it. I followed the scent through a thick patch of trees, past a moss-covered ridge, down into a glade that shimmered like it existed half in this world and half in another.

I slowed when I reached the edge of the clearing.

There, curled beneath the roots of a moonwillow tree, was a girl. She looked like she’d been dragged through war. Her clothes were torn. Her skin was streaked with dirt and blood. And yet she was… glowing.

Not visibly, not in the way magic usually announced itself. But I could feel it. Power rippled beneath her surface like heat lightning waiting to strike. It called to me.

She didn’t move when I stepped closer.

But her eyes snapped open.

And for the first time in my life, I forgot how to breathe.

Her gaze locked on mine—bright silver, stormy, defiant. She didn’t look afraid of me. She didn’t look at me like I was an Alpha, or a threat, or anything to be feared.

She looked at me like I was… familiar.

“I won’t go back,” she said, her voice low and rough.

I raised my hands slowly. “I’m not here to take you anywhere.”

She blinked, like that surprised her. Her muscles stayed tense, like she was ready to bolt if I made the wrong move.

“Who are you?” she asked.

I hesitated.

Because even though she had no idea, the bond had already started to hum between us—soft and steady, unlike the burn I expected. This one didn’t demand. It called.

“I think,” I said quietly, “I’m the one who’s supposed to find you.”

____________

I didn’t believe in fate. Not really.

Not after what it took from me.

But here I was, standing in a sacred glade I had no right to find, staring at a girl who looked like the Moon Goddess had dropped her into my path just to laugh at me.

She was half-wild, half-wounded. And she was mine.

I didn’t say it aloud. I wouldn’t dare.

Not yet.

She sat up slowly, her arms wrapped around her knees like a shield. Her silver eyes tracked my every movement. Sharp. Suspicious. There was nothing soft in her, and I didn’t blame her for it.

I’d worn that same look once.

“I’m Caspian,” I said, voice low. “I’m not from your pack. I’m just… passing through.”

She didn’t answer. But her wolf peeked through her gaze—cautious but curious.

“What’s your name?”

A pause. Then, quietly, “Nyx.”

Nyx.

The name settled into me like it belonged. Like I’d always known it.

My wolf stirred again, pressing toward her. He wanted to be closer. To touch her. To protect her.

But I held him back.

This bond—it was a cruel joke. It had to be. I’d sworn off ever having a mate again. I’d buried that part of myself years ago, after I lost—

Don’t think about it.

Not now.

Nyx blinked slowly, watching me like she could see straight through my silence.

“Are you going to reject me too?” she asked, voice flat.

The question hit harder than it should have.

So someone already had. Of course they had. That explained the edge in her tone. The storm in her scent. She was still bleeding from it.

I stepped closer, slow and careful, like I would with a wounded wolf. “No. I’m not here to hurt you.”

She didn’t flinch, but she didn’t believe me either.

Smart girl.

I crouched down a few feet away, giving her space but not leaving. Something in me couldn’t walk away—not now that I’d seen her. Felt her.

“You’re not safe out here,” I said. “These woods… they’re neutral, but they’re not empty. There are things worse than rogues.”

“I can take care of myself.”

I believed her. She had that look—of someone who'd had no choice.

But still, I found myself saying, “Let me help you. Just for the night.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

Because you're mine.

Because the bond is already inside me, and it’s not quiet.

Because I don’t want to lose another mate.

But I didn’t say any of that.

Instead, I met her gaze and said the only thing that felt true in that moment. “Because I know what it’s like to be alone. And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

She studied me a while longer. And then, slowly, Nyx nodded.

Just once.

I built us a small fire once she agreed to stay.

I kept my distance, watching her from across the flames. She sat in silence, arms around herself like she was trying to hold her pieces together.

She didn’t ask about my past. She didn’t offer her own.

But I felt it between us—the quiet kind of understanding only survivors shared.

You can’t keep her, my wolf whispered.

She’s not safe with us.

I knew that. I’d spent years avoiding attachments for exactly this reason. My past didn’t just follow me—it hunted.

But watching her now, I knew something with terrifying clarity:

Nyx wasn’t someone I could ignore. Not again. Not after finding her in the middle of nowhere, glowing with untapped power and hurt she didn’t deserve.

She wasn’t just my second chance.

She was going to be the reason I stopped running.

Or the reason I burned.