CHAPTER 3

The rogue wolf hit the cabin floor in a spray of splintered wood, landing in a crouch low enough to scrape its belly across the boards. Its lips peeled back and showed teeth like carved obsidian.

Evelyn flattened herself against the far wall, her heart ricocheting against her ribs.

Before her, the wolf in his silver-black coat—her wolf, for reasons she didn’t know and couldn’t fathom—stood between her and this intruder, muscles coiled, fur standing on end like storm-charged lightning.

The two wolves circled each other, slow and deliberate, each waiting for the other to make the first mistake. Each knowing that the least mistake will result in death.

The rogue lunged.

The Alpha met it mid-air.

They hit hard enough that the windowpanes shook; snarls racketed around the cabin like thunder. Teeth snapped, and claws scraped at the floor. The rogue slammed the Alpha against the table, crashing it against the wall.

Evelyn ducked as wood exploded beside her.

“Stop!” she cried—pointless, she knew, but terror made her voice crack like brittle glass. She was terrified at what she was witnessing.

The rogue spun toward her, drool flying from its jaws.

“No—no—” Evelyn stumbled backward, hands scrambling for anything—anything—that could be used as a weapon.

All she found was a wooden broom.

Great, she was going to die wielding housekeeping supplies.

The rogue crouched, muscles bunching—

The Alpha wolf slammed into it from the side, knocking the attack off course. The two tumbled across the floor, a rolling blur of fur and claws. The Alpha clamped his jaws around the rogue's neck, dragging it back toward the broken wall.

The rogue was thrashing violently, twisting, snapping. Its claws raked across the Alpha’s side, leaving dark streaks of blood.

"No, stop! You're hurt!" Evelyn screamed.

The Alpha didn’t look at her—didn’t even seem to hear her. His eyes were locked on the intruder, a cold, lethal fury burning in them.

He gave one final heave, launching the rogue through the broken opening in the wall of the cabin. The creature skidded into the dirt outside, snarling once in defiance, before it fled into the trees. To regroup.

Silence crashed down.

Evelyn's legs almost gave way.

The Alpha wolf stood in the middle of the cabin, his chest rising and falling in deep, violent breaths. Blood dripped from his flank. His fur bristled. His shoulders trembled-not with fear, but with barely restrained rage.

Slowly-too slowly-his golden eyes lifted to hers.

Her breath caught.

They weren’t the same as before.

These eyes were darker, almost glowing.

“Hey…” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Hey, you’re bleeding. You need to—”

The wolf took a step closer towards her.

She froze.

But not because she was afraid of him.

Because she recognized something in his gaze, she shouldn’t have been able to name:

Hunger.

Need.

Claim.

Evelyn’s breath turned shallow.

"S-shift back," she whispered, holding up her hands. "Please. You're scaring me."

The wolf stopped.

His ears flicked.

He shook his head once, as if fighting something inside.

Then bones snapped. Fur receded. Muscles twisted into new shapes. Evelyn turned away with a small gasp, her cheeks heating even in the chaos.

When the transformation finished, he was human again.

Barely.

His chest heaved. Blood streaked his ribs. His eyes still glowed faintly, as if the wolf was pressing against the inside of them.

He braced one hand against the wall. “Evelyn.”

She moved toward him instinctively. “You’re hurt—”

"Stay back."

The command was low, strained, rumbling. It stopped her mid-step.

His breathing was ragged; his hands shook, and every muscle in his body looked carved from tension.

 “What’s happening to you?” she whispered.

He shut his eyes. "You're too close."

“Too close? I’m trying to help you!”

“You don’t understand.” His voice cracked. “If you take one more step, I won’t be able to—”

He cut himself off. He needed her badly.

Evelyn swallowed. “Won’t be able to what?”

He lifted his face toward her—and what she saw there rooted her in place.

Longing.

Pain.

Slipping control, like sand between fingers.

“You’re my tether,” he whispered again, voice raw. “But that means your scent… your fear… your heartbeat… they pull me to you.”

Her own heartbeat fluttered wildly- too loudly.

“I can’t hold the wolf back if you come any closer.”

Evelyn’s throat went dry. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

Another distant howl rose through the forest.

His eyes snapped to the doorway, then back to her.

“They're regrouping,” he said, forcing the words out. “More are coming. I can't fight them all injured.”

"So we need to leave," she said.

“No.” His tone sharpened, final. “You need to leave.

Her breath hitched. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

The flicker in his eyes-shock, warmth, something dangerously close to desire-passed in an instant.

“You don’t understand,” he repeated, advancing toward her despite his warning. “If they scent you here, they won’t stop hunting you. Ever.”

“Why?” she snapped, frustration and fear tangling in her chest. “Why me? I didn’t do anything! I just ran away from a wedding and somehow ended up in the middle of a wolf war—”

“You’re not prey to them.” His jaw clenched. “You’re something else.”

Evelyn shook her head. “What could I possibly be—?”

The cabin door burst inward.

Not from a rogue wolf.

From a man.

Tall, rugged, with storm-grey eyes and a scar across his cheek. A stranger - yet one who looked at her as if he knew her.

His eyes darted from Evelyn to the bleeding Alpha.

And then he smiled—slow, and chilling.

"So," he said. "I finally found the runaway bride."

Evelyn's blood ran cold.

Because he wasn't a wedding guest.

He was not from the town.

He was a person she had never seen before.

But he said bride as if he knew exactly why she'd run.

The silver-black Alpha growled, stepping in front of her once again. The stranger showed no reaction. Instead, he said: "Evelyn Hart belongs to me."