Chapter 1.1: The Trespasser.

Asher DravenHart

The pack house always smelled of cedar and iron after a patrol—old wood, old blood. And the kind of promises you would only make when you’re ready to die for them.

Tonight, it clung to my skin like smoke.

I stood in my office, both hands bracing on the floor to ceiling window, staring. My eyes slid over the training yard below. Floodlights carved pale moons in the snow. Young wolves sparred in the cold, barking laughter between blows, their breath puffing in sharp white clouds.

Their energy should’ve been comforting to me tonight.

Instead, my chest felt tight. Too tight. Like my ribcage was caught in a vice.

Behind me, my door shut with a soft click.

“You’re still awake,” a voice said. It wasn’t a question. A judgement.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. His scent said everything.

Rowan Pierce. My beta, my eldest friend. He was the only person that talked to me like I wasn’t carved out of marble.

He crossed the room and tossed something onto my desk. My jacket, snow still dusted across the collar.

“You left this in the corridor. Again…” His tone condescending.

“One day you’re going to stop cleaning up after me, Rowan.” I said through a small laugh.

“One day.” Rowan countered, leaning against the desk like he owned it, “you’re going to admit you can’t keep sulking in your tower. You can’t keep doing this alone, Asher.”

My jaw tightened, clenching as I turned from the window and crossed the room, my boots squeaking quietly on the wood. I picked up the decanter and poured myself a glass of whiskey more out of habit than thirst. It was something that kept my hands busy, something I could focus on and pretend that I was calm. I poured a second and handed it to him. He accepted with a small cheers.

“Alpha…” Rowan started, staring at me over the rim of his glass, eyes steady, “you should really consider choosing a mate.”

The words hit me hard and I stumbled back like they shoved me.

It wasn’t the first time he stated the obvious, and it wouldn’t be the last. The only problem—he wasn’t wrong.

I swirled the whiskey until the amber liquid caught the light like trapped fire.

“I’m not just going to claim some random woman.”

“You can’t do both jobs by yourself all of the time.” Rowans expression didn’t change, but his voice softened, “You can’t be Alpha, the pack’s shield and the one who is the glue that holds all of us together. The pack needs a Luna.”

A pulse of irritation flared in my veins. Immediate. Sharp. Protective.

“I’m managing.”

“No. You’re surviving.” He corrected, “There’s a big difference, Asher.”

Inside me, my wolf paced. Restless. Impatient, just like he had been for years.

“Mate.” He growled low in the back of my skull, “Not random.”

My grip tightened around my glass.

I had been looking for her for so long that my search had become a part of who I am. Like breath. Like blood. Gatherings under bright moons. Allied pack visits. Every new face brought new scents and a new hopeful second where I though that maybe this is it.

Then nothing but emptiness.

Sometimes, late at night when the house quieted and the weight of my title pressed down on me so hard it felt like it was closing around my throat, I wondered if the Moon Goddess was punishing me for something that I hadn’t known I had done.

Other nights, I would let myself believe she was simply saving the best for her strongest warrior.

Rowan pushed off the desk. “The council’s pressuring you, Asher. And I know for a fact that the unmated females are pressuring you. You should hear how they mewl for you when they think that they are alone. Hell, even the pups are taking bets!”

“I don’t care!” I snapped, my voice echoed, too loud in the room.

“You should,” he said, unflinching. “Because if you didn’t really care, then others would doubt you. Doubt is a cancer. It spreads fast and cracks faster. It’ll be the first crack in your pack.”

“So, what?” I hiss through clenched teeth, my jaw working, teeth grinding. “I just pick someone and pretend it’s destiny?” I stared at him, waiting for his answer.

He held my gaze. “You pick someone who will be able to stand beside you. Someone who can carry some, ANY, of this!” he gestures around him, “Someone who can help you build something that will last for eons, Asher.”

My chest ached, deep, old. Because part of me wanted to say yes and give in. Wanted to do the wise thing for the pack.

But there was a smaller part. A bitter, stubbornly hopeful part. And it refused.

Before I could snap back, a knock hit the door, firm, more controlled than urgent.

It opened before either one of us could answer and one of my warriors stepped through. He took two steps in, met our gaze, then quickly dropped it to the floor.

“Alpha. Beta.”

“What is it?” Rowan asked.

“We uh…” the warrior glanced at me.

“Spit it out, boy.” I snapped.

“We found a woman on the east boundary trail, sir. She…” he hesitated, “She’s a human. No pack scent. No silver. She was lost, half frozen. We brought her here, before the storm could get any worse.” His words spilled faster and faster from his lips.

“A human crossed into our territory?” I asked as I slowly set my whiskey down.

“Yes, Alpha.”

My irritation spiked again, hot. Humans didn’t wander onto my lands by accident. Not this deep at least. Not past the warning signs, not past the scent marks that made even the most seasoned of hikers feel uneasy without knowing why.

“Did she not see the perimeter?” I asked, stepping closer to the wolf, “the patrol routes? The gates?”

“She was uh—” the warrior stumbled over his words, “Disoriented, sir. She could barely stand when we found her. We didn’t think leaving her on her own out there was a good option.”

Rowan’s gaze flicked to me. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

But his presence pressed against my mind, firm. Familiar. Like a warm cup of coffee.

“Asher.” His voice slid into my thoughts, low, controlled, “Easy. There are ears everywhere.”

The warrior blinked between us, clearly oblivious. The link was something special that higher ranked soldiers had, low class warriors couldn’t hear it. They couldn’t even feel it unless someone wanted them to, and Rowan didn’t.

I kept my face blank, the way that every Alpha learned to do when they were young.

“I’m listening.” I send back, my thoughts short, clipped.

Rowan’s gaze remained on the warrior as if nothing unusual was happening. To anyone watching, he was simply assessing the situation. Only I was the one that felt the edge beneath his calm.

“You are about to storm downstairs and make a spectacle. If she is truly lost, she will be terrified. If she’s bait, you’ll show your hand.”

My wolf snarled in me at the word bait.

“She is in our house.”

“Because one of your men chose mercy in a blizzard,”  Rowan replied, a quiet warning in his tone, “Don’t punish that instinct. It was a good one.”

My jaw tightened until it ached. Damn him for being right.

“Where is she?” I asked aloud, trying to keep my tone cold, even.

“In the entry. By the main hearth,” the warrior answered, “Guarded of course.”

Rowan’s voice brushed against my mind again, steadier now.

“Go and see her. Just… don’t go down breathing fire, Asher.”

I exhaled slowly through my nose. “Stay close.”

“Always.”