CHAPTER THREE

DALTON'S POV

The forest was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that felt heavier than any storm. I stood at the edge of the Nightshade borders, my jaw tight, hands clenched into fists as I exhaled a shaky breath. Only a few days remained until the full moon, and the tension in the air was almost palpable.

Every wolf in the pack could feel it—the shift in the winds, the pull in our hearts, the subtle quiver of anticipation. Those who had found their wolves and mates would finally awaken their bonds. Those without… like me… would be tested. The mateless. The wolfless.

I had been searching for my mate for years, a quest I had almost abandoned. 

The Moon Goddess’s prophecy haunted me silently in every decision, every battle, every restless night. 

She had promised that the child of her lineage would appear when the time came, but the years had passed, and I had begun to doubt.

My wolf growled low inside me, restless, impatient, as if sensing the storm I was trying to ignore. The blood in my veins pulsed faster with each breath. Soon, the moon would rise, and if I was unlucky… I would lose control again. 

My curse had a grip I couldn’t entirely escape. Every full moon, I shifted, and the wolf inside me… the uncontrollable bloodlust… it rose, clawing for dominance. 

It had been years since the last time I gave in, but the thought of that night, the destruction I could cause, made my muscles tense.

“You need to calm yourself, Dalton,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. My wolf hissed under my skin, reminding me that restraint was fleeting.

I began my patrol along the forest border, the mist curling around the trees like ghostly fingers. My senses were heightened, every rustle and crack of a branch putting me on edge. Wolves were always in tune with each other, and tonight, every pack member who was mateless, who was wolfless, would feel the pressure. 

I needed to be ready.

I reached the clearing where our scouts usually met before reporting back. Nothing. The shadows stretched long and strange, warped by the rising moon that had begun its climb over the horizon. 

My fingers grazed the hilt of my dagger, my instincts warning me that something… someone… was out there. Watching. Waiting.

I knelt slightly, inhaling deeply, searching for any scent, any anomaly. My eyes narrowed as a flicker of movement caught my attention.

 A fox, maybe. Or a rogue trying to test our borders. Either way, my wolf stirred, alert, aggressive, sensing a threat I couldn’t see yet.

“Not now,” I muttered, forcing my hands to relax. 

My heartbeat rattled in my ears as I considered the pack. Soon, the full moon would bring chaos. It always did.

I thought of the mateless wolves. Of the young ones who had yet to bond. Some would awaken in joy, others in heartbreak. I had seen both, and I knew the pain that came with rejection, with disappointment. Some wolves never found their mates, and the wolfless nights… they could drive the strongest to madness.

I walked deeper into the forest, my boots pressing softly against the fallen leaves. My eyes darted to every shadow, my ears straining to catch any sound. Then I felt it. A subtle scent, faint, delicate, almost… human. My brow furrowed, hand tightening on my dagger again.

Scents like hers were rare. Untrained. Unclaimed. But something in the way my instincts pulled at me… it was impossible to ignore. I shook my head, trying to dismiss it. I was here for patrol. Not distractions. Not… fantasies.

Still, the sense lingered. Fragile, yet strong. 

There was something hidden in it. Pain. Humiliation. Survival. 

The kind of scent that could only belong to someone who had endured too much yet refused to break completely.

I cursed under my breath. There were no easy answers tonight. I needed to focus on the pack, on the border, on the coming full moon that would demand vigilance like nothing else.

 I had responsibilities. My curse would not wait. The bloodlust would rise, and if I wasn’t careful, innocent lives would be at risk.

I moved silently toward the edge of the ridge, scanning the treeline, and then I heard it. A faint, ragged sound, almost like a whimper. My heart leapt, my wolf growling low, primal.

“Show yourself,” I commanded, voice steady but edged with steel.

Nothing. Only the rustling leaves, the wind, the low growl of my wolf echoing in the empty forest.

Then it came again. 

A soft, human-like sound of pain. My senses sharpened instantly. The scent grew stronger—fear and exhaustion, the unmistakable signature of someone pushed to the edge.

I crouched slightly, silent, moving closer. 

My dagger was ready, my mind racing through every scenario. Wolves didn’t usually survive alone in this section of the forest. It was too deep, too exposed. Something—or someone—was out there, and they were in trouble.

My wolf surged inside me, alert and protective. I couldn’t ignore this. Even with the full moon approaching, even with the curse looming, I couldn’t leave them out there. Not yet.

As I drew closer, I glimpsed her.

She was slumped against a tree, hair tangled and clothes torn, and the faint moonlight glimmered on the dirt and scratches across her skin. I froze. She wasn’t moving much, but she was alive. Alive, yet fragile.

My wolf growled low, instinctively protective. Something inside me—a long-buried urge to shield, to defend—rose in response.

“She’s alone,” I muttered, eyes scanning the surroundings for any danger. None. “Why would someone leave her like this?”

I took a step forward, then another, heart hammering, instincts screaming. 

The closer I got, the more I could see the marks of humiliation on her body—her shoulders slumped, her head drooping in exhaustion. Her aura… it was faint, unclaimed, yet the pain radiating from it was strong enough to make my chest tighten.

I knelt beside her, careful not to startle her. My eyes swept over her face, searching for signs of life, of recognition, of anything that would explain why she was here.

“Hey,” I said gently, though firm, trying to keep my voice calm. “Can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, wide and panicked. She gasped, confusion and fear clouding her expression.

“I… I…” she began, voice trembling, but no words came out.

I paused, watching her, sensing the sheer exhaustion and despair she carried. Something about her was… unusual. Not dangerous. Not hostile. 

But fragile, broken in a way that triggered a protective instinct I hadn’t felt in years.

I needed to be cautious. This could be a trap. Wolves didn’t survive out here alone without reason.

 And yet… I couldn’t abandon her. Not when the full moon was so close, not when I already felt the wolf stirring inside me, restless, impatient.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly, my eyes searching hers. “Why are you here alone?”

Her gaze darted around, wide and fearful. “I… I don’t know. I… just…” Her voice broke.

I clenched my jaw, my wolf growling low, uneasy. Something told me her story was far from simple. I could feel it. 

The energy, the pain, the faint shimmer of strength hidden under the exhaustion—she had been through something terrible. And I was not about to let her face it alone.

A sudden snap of a branch made me tense, my eyes scanning the surrounding forest. The shadows shifted unnaturally, and my wolf roared in warning. We were not alone.

I pushed myself up, scanning the darkness, dagger at the ready. Whoever—or whatever—was watching, I would find them. 

But when I looked back at her, she shivered violently, gripping the roots of the tree, eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t worry,” I said, forcing calm into my voice even as my heart raced. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And then, in that fleeting moment of uneasy calm, the forest erupted. 

Branches snapped violently. 

Shadows moved faster than I could react. My wolf surged, uncontrollable energy building in my chest as the first whispers of the full moon br

ushed against the horizon.

Something—or someone—was coming. 

And whatever it was, it was heading straight for us.