Chapter 1 The Heat

Sienna

The pale light from the full moon streaked a silver light across the mansions and the outskirts of the city, reflecting my unease. I was at the edge of the bonfire’s glow, and its crackle was mixed with laughter and the clink of glasses. 

My phone vibrated in my pocket for the third time tonight—Derek, my Alpha, texting me and telling me to blend in. I ignored it, cupping my plastic cup of cheap wine. Unmated wolves in the stronger packs moved in the space, their confidence filled the air, mixed with musk, cologne and ambition. 

I was an omega from a weak suburban pack, ignored in my work out sneakers, second hand jeans, and worn out hoodie, its fabric holding the faint tang of laundry powder. My wolf stirred silently within me, suspicious, whispering to me to keep a low profile, safe. I took a sip of my wine, searching the room. 

The estate had glass walls, manicured lawns, and a DJ booth pumping out bass into the night. This was not some down home werewolf meeting; it was a supernatural elite mixer, courtesy of the elite of the Blackwood pack, whose compound was just outside of town.  Derek had made me come here, his voice harsh in our pack’s group chat. “You’re going, Sienna. We need their favor.” 

We were bleeding money, barely holding ground, and he self imagined that sending me to this assembly of unmated wolves would make allies. I’d pleaded, my thumbs jittering across my phone, but he’d shut me out. “You’re unmated. You’re omega. You’re useful. Go.”

So I stood pressed against a cedar tree, averting my eyes from dominant wolves. My wolf whimpered, all that sound, all those eyes, all that pressure. Then a wrenching pull grabbed my chest. I gasped, my wolf shifting, her whine soft, but urgent. I looked to where she was looking beyond the bonfire. The dark-haired Alpha host, Ronan Blackwood, stood back, resting against a matte-black SUV, letting the moonlight kiss his dark hair, his gray eyes burning into mine. 

My pulse quickened. His tailored jacket fit on broad shoulders, his sharp jaw screaming command. I clawed at my wolf, needing him, pulled to him with an urgency I couldn’t articulate.

His scent clogged my nostrils — cedar, smoke and deeper, something warm and assured.  My wolf had howled for me to get closer, yet my feet remained planted in the grass. He arose, his eyes fixed on mine, and approached me, his steps slow and measured. The crowd parted, wolves receding, drinks half raised pausing. A tremor raced through me as he stood in front of me, warmth emanating from him, grazing overheated skin.  My wolf whimpered, miserable and needy and fucking embarrassing. I clutched my cup, whose plastic creaked beneath my fingers.

“Why are you pretending you don’t feel the same?” His voice was deep, and his warm breath pressed against my ear as he chuckled softly. 

My wolf surged, its imaginary claws slashing at my invisible leash, but my mind churned. Feel what? The bond? Was that what this was? I opened my mouth to question, but my query was swallowed by his gaze. He didn’t have to say mate, didn’t have to claim me as his, he just leaned closer, his lips brushing my jaw and I shivered. “Follow me,” he snarled, his voice an order not a question.

I should have refused. I was nothing, an omega, I was nothing, a pawn in Derek’s game. But the wolf in me took no notice of reason, and my body betrayed me, gathering heat in my womb. His warm hand grasped mine, pulling me through the crowd. I tripped after him, my sneakers scraping the gravel path, my phone buzzing again—Derek, I knew, but I ignored it. 

The lights of the estate went out as we pulled up to a smooth cabin located behind pines, its glass windows catching the moon. And then the door clicked shut, and the world seemed to go no further than him — his scent, his heat, his eyes.

His jacket hit the floor and then my hoodie; his fingers which felt too large managed to pull it over my head. He was quick, hands tight on my waist, lifting me to the wall. My jeans were next, followed by his belt that jingled on the floor. My wolf howled, wild and free, as his lips slanted over mine, greedy, possessive.  I sucked in a breath into his mouth, my fingers twining in his hair, angling him towards me. His growl thrummed against my own throat, I moaned. 

“Ronan,” I gasped when his hands slipped and tore through my defenses. He took me to the bed, making the mattress dip with his heaviness. I pulled off his shirt, heated skin beneath my hands, muscles straining as he propped me against him. My wolf was already howling inside me, overwhelmed by his scent, his touch. I drowned in him, my nails raking down his shoulders as he kissed my neck his teeth grazing my collarbone. 

Every touch rocketed through me and my body arched to his. I had never experienced this—never been so hungry, so consumed. My wolf was screaming he was ours and this was destined and he felt it too. I knew that, lost in his hands, his lips, his growled curses against my skin.

“Call me yours,” he rasped, his breath hot against my ear as he buried himself inside me. He fisted my hips, his body huge, every inch propelling me closer to the edge. My nails duggedinto his back awaking a low growl, and I whimpered, feeling light headed.

“I’m yours,” I murmured, the words slipping out of me, untamed and real. 

My wolf growled in victory and I clutched him, shivering and my heart pounding. His kiss was wild, bruising, swallowing my whimpers as he rocked his hips with mine, our wolves eager to unite. 

The world disappeared — nothing mattered except for him, his ragged breaths, the way he said my name. I was his, and for a second I felt like he was mine too with his hot lips.