Chapter 5

Ryder continued staring at the door long after she had disappeared.

"...Fuck."

He raked a hand through his dark hair and let out a slow, weary breath. Somehow, every conversation with her ended the same way. The harder he tried to get closer, the further she seemed to retreat.

Every time he got close to her, she looked at him like he was the devil himself.

He remained where he was, unable to make himself move. His fingers gripped the crystal glass of whiskey so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The amber liquid inside shook, reflecting the absolute storm raging inside his chest. He took a deep, burning gulp of the liquor, but it did nothing to cool the fire in his veins.

The wolf inside him refused to be ignored. It paced restlessly through his mind, growing more impatient with every passing second.

Mine, the wolf snarled inside his head. She is ours. Why did you let her walk away?

Ryder slammed the empty glass down on the heavy table. The sharp crack echoed through the quiet room. He turned around and looked at the unmade bed. The dark sheets were tangled, and right there, in the middle of the mattress, was the small spot where Hazel had been sleeping.

He crossed the room and dropped onto the edge of the bed, burying his face in the pillow she had slept on only hours ago.

Her scent was still there. It was everywhere. She smelled like sweet raspberry juice, fresh rain, and a delicate hint of vanilla that belonged only to her.

 A fragile scent. It was a smell that made his dominant Alpha instincts want to wrap her up, lock her away in the deepest part of his castle, and never let another living soul look at her again.

 Yesterday, when he had walked out onto that library and caught his own brother, Kaiden, brushing a strand of Hazel's hair away from her face, his mind had gone completely blank with a murderous rage.

To a werewolf Alpha, a fated mate was not just a partner. She was the other half of his soul. . If someone killed a mate, the Alpha died too, or became a mindless, bloodthirsty monster. 

The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit. His entire future rested in the hands of a small, fragile human girl who had no idea how completely she owned his heart. 

But right now, all he wanted to do was drag Hazel back into this bed, pin her body beneath his massive frame, and mark her skin until she belonged to him completely.

A sharp knock at the bedroom door pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter," Ryder commanded.

The door opened, and his Beta, a large man named Marcus, walked into the room. Marcus bowed his head instantly

"Alpha," Marcus said, keeping his eyes on the floor. "The pack elders are waiting in the strategy room. The reports from the northern border are getting worse. The rogue wolves are testing the boundary lines again".

Ryder's expression hardened.

"Has anyone been seen near the inner gardens?"

Marcus hesitated for a fraction of a second. "No, Alpha. Security has been doubled around the perimeter. The estate grounds are secure."

"I want every guard inside this mansion on high alert," Ryder ordered. "If anyone enters without permission, restrain them immediately. If they resist..." His icy blue eyes turned cold. "Use whatever force is necessary. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Alpha."

Marcus hesitated before asking, "And Lady Hazel? Should I assign more warriors outside her room?"

"Chloe is with her," Ryder replied, his eyes drifting toward the window. "I trust Chloe with Hazel's life. Even so, station two of our strongest warriors at the end of the hallway. No one enters or leaves without my permission."

"Understood, Alpha."

Marcus bowed once more before leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Ryder let out a long breath. He walked over to his large wooden wardrobe and pulled out a fresh white shirt. He pulled it over his broad shoulders, the fabric stretching tightly across the thick muscles of his chest and back. He didn't bother buttoning the top three buttons, leaving the rough, dark hair of his chest visible.

 He strapped a silver-hilted dagger to his leather belt and grabbed his heavy black jacket.

Just before leaving, something on the table caught his eye.

A pale pink silk ribbon. Hazel must have left it behind the night before.

He picked it up carefully, almost as though it were something precious.

He brought the small piece of fabric to his nose and inhaled deeply. Her sweet scent filled his senses, instantly calming the wild beast inside his mind. He tucked the ribbon into the inside pocket of his jacket.

He hated that he had to use fear as a weapon against his own mate. But he didn't know how else to protect her. Mercy was a rare thing in the werewolf world. Power attracted enemies, and every Alpha had people waiting for the chance to see him fall. If anyone discovered that his greatest weakness was a gentle human girl, they wouldn't hesitate to use her against him.

When he reached the grand strategy room, the wooden doors were pushed open by two guards. Inside, six elderly wolves were sitting around a massive oak table covered in maps and old documents. 

They all stood up instantly as Ryder entered, bowing their heads in deep respect.

"Alpha," the oldest elder, a gray-haired wolf named Silas, said. "Thank you for coming. The situation in the north is becoming critical."

"Show me the report," Ryder growled flatly.

"Our scouts have tracked unusual movements for several days," Silas explained. "The rogues appear in small groups, then disappear before anyone can engage them. It's as though they're searching for something... or someone."

Ryder studied the map for a long moment before speaking. "Double the patrols along every northern route. Change their rotations often enough that no one can predict our movements. Send more warriors to the villages closest to the border."

"Our people come first. If a rogue crosses the river, show no mercy. Kill them on sight and hang their bodies from the trees as a warning."

But as the clock on the wall ticked past midday, his beast began to grow restless again. The further away he was from Hazel, the more he could feel her emotions through the thin, unformed bond in his mind. 

Without realizing it, the corners of his lips softened into the faintest smile.

"Alpha?"

Silas's voice cut through his thoughts.

Ryder lifted his head and found every pair of eyes resting on him. He cleared his throat, pushed every thought of Hazel to the back of his mind, and straightened in his chair.

"My apologies," Ryder said calmly. "I was distracted. Continue."

Silas rolled up the last map."That is everything, Alpha."

Ryder gave a single nod.

"See that every order is carried out before sunset."

"Yes, Alpha," the elders answered together.

He didn't wait for another word. By the time they looked up again, he was already walking toward the door.

When he reached the grand library where Chloe had taken her, his chest was heaving. He pushed the elegant glass doors open, stepping inside.

Hazel had curled herself into the oversized chair, her knees tucked beneath her dress as the open book rested forgotten in her lap. Her long eyelashes rested against her pale cheeks.

She was asleep.

A few loose strands of her red hair framed her peaceful face, glowing like fire beneath the sunlight. Her breathing was slow and steady, and for the first time since she'd arrived at the castle, she looked completely at peace.

He closed the distance slowly, careful not to wake her.

Standing beside the chair, he looked down at her sleeping face for a long moment. Almost without thinking, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of her red hair behind her ear.

His fingertips barely brushed her skin, but the soft warmth of her cheek lingered against them.

Hazel stirred slightly at his touch. She let out a small, soft sigh, her lips parting just a fraction as she turned her head into his hand, unconsciously seeking the heavy warmth of his palm.

The innocent movement caught him off guard. His wolf clawed at the edges of his mind, begging him to lean down and claim her soft mouth right then and there. He wanted to feel her taste. 

After a few quiet moments, Hazel's eyelashes fluttered.

She blinked several times, her bright red eyes still hazy with sleep as she struggled to focus on the man standing over her.

For a second, she didn't realize where she was or who was standing over her. She looked up at Ryder’s face with a soft, sleepy smile.

"Ryder...?" she whispered, her voice sounding small and sweet.

Before she could fully wake, Ryder slid one arm beneath her knees and the other around her waist.

He lifted her with surprising care, holding her as though she were something precious that might break if he wasn't gentle.

Hazel let out a sharp gasp of shock, her eyes instantly snapping wide open as reality rushed back into her mind. Her small hands instinctively flew up to grab the front of his shirt to steady herself, her fingers digging into the dark fabric.

"M-My Lord!" she stammered, "What... what are you doing? Please, put me down."

"No," Ryder said flatly. He marched out of the library, holding her securely against his chest. His fingers dug slightly into the soft flesh of her waist, claiming her. Hazel hid her face in the crook of his neck, unable to bear the embarrassing stares of the servants they passed. Her nose pressed against his warm skin, and she was instantly hit by the overwhelming smell of him

"I told you I would return before the sun sets," Ryder growled deeply, "And I told you that when I returned, I expected to find you exactly where you belong."

"I was reading!" she protested softly, her face turning a bright, beautiful pink. She tried to wiggle against his grip, but it was like trying to move a mountain of pure muscle. "Please, put me down. I can walk by myself."

He marched straight across the bedroom and tossed her gently onto the soft mattress of the massive bed. Hazel scrambled backward until her back hit the heavy wooden headboard.

Ryder stood at the foot of the bed, looming over her. He unbuttoned his heavy jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. Then, his large, scarred hands moved to his belt, unbuckling his dagger and setting it on the nightstand with a loud metallic clink. Next, he reached for his shirt, tearing it open and throwing it aside, leaving his massive, heavily muscled chest completely bare.

His icy blue eyes never left her face. They burned with a raw hunger making it hard for her to breathe.

"You didn't eat your lunch, Hazel," Ryder said. 

Hazel swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her dry throat. "I... I ate the bread, my Lord. And some of the soup. I wasn't very hungry."

"Chloe told me you left half the tray untouched," he snarled softly, taking a slow step around the side of the bed. "I told you this morning to eat something. I told you I will not have my future luna looking as though she is being starved in my house."

His gaze slowly drifted downward until it settled on her lips.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with restraint.

She had no idea what she did to him.

His thumb brushed gently across her cheek before trailing down to the corner of her mouth.

Without wasting another second, he let out a low growl of pure satisfaction and brought his lips down onto hers.

His mouth was hot and demanding, his tongue sliding past her teeth to taste her deeply, capturing her small gasps. 

He shifted his weight, his large body moving between her thighs, pinning her down onto the mattress. His hands moved down to her waist, his large fingers gripping her hips tightly, lifting her slightly against his hardness.

When he finally pulled away to breathe, both of their chests were heaving violently. Ryder’s lips were wet with her taste, and his eyes were completely dark with an insatiable hunger. He looked down at her flushed face, her swollen lips, and her wide, dazed eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Hazel," he groaned, his voice rough. "So fucking beautiful."

Before she could even respond, he leaned down and captured her lips again. This time, the kiss was deeper, hungrier.

Ryder groaned against her mouth, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated straight through her chest. He shifted his body, pressing his heavy hardness right against the center of her thighs. 

The friction made Hazel gasp, her hands moving up to tangle in his thick, dark hair as she pulled him closer.

Ryder’s breathing was a harsh, ragged rattle in his chest. Above her, Ryder looked like he was in a battle with himself; his jaw was clenched tight.

His inner wolf was restless, a wild instinct demanding he act on the bond that tied them together. The primal side of him recognized her as his mate, but Ryder fought to keep his human side in control. 

He slammed his hands onto the mattress on either side of her head, his knuckles turning white as he forced himself to stay still, his body shaking from the sheer effort of restraint.

"Hazel," he groaned, his voice deep and fractured. He rested his forehead against the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "Look at me. Open your eyes, little bird."

Hazel reached up to cup his face, feeling the rigid tension in his jaw. "Ryder? What's wrong?"

"I am trying so hard," he whispered against her skin. "My beast... he wants to take control. I want you, Hazel".