II - Mate

~AMARA~

The car ride was silent, and the silence was stifling. I shuffled in my seat, restless, fingers fidgeting, eyes darting out the window more times than I could count.

My nerves had gotten the best of me, and all that remained was the fear that I wouldn't be good enough.

The road stretched before us—long and unfamiliar, lined with trees that arched like watchers over the path.

I’d never been anywhere outside Redthorn Pack since I was a child, and I had half imagined it would practically burst with excitement the second I left.

I’d expected to feel more excitement, more joy. After all, this was supposed to be the moment everything I’d ever wanted began.

But instead, a strange silence settled inside the car, heavy and unnatural.

The driver hadn’t spoken a word since we left. Not a single glance back, no polite attempt at conversation. His scent was unfamiliar—not the earthy musk of pack members I grew up around, nor the clean, dignified aroma I’d imagined would belong to Jerome’s men.

I was utterly and completely alone for the first time in my life, and I wasn't sure if that was the reason I felt so off.

No, this was something else.

Sharp.

Wild.

Wrong.

I shifted uneasily for the nth time in the hour and looked out the window, hoping to distract myself from the churning in my stomach. We’d already left Redthorn’s boundaries. No one would be following us now.

The trees grew denser as we moved farther from civilization, shadows stretching across the road as though they too reached for me.

"How much farther to Orion Pack?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

No answer.

Unease crept through my already tense bones, making me go still. I shifted my gaze to the face of the driver in the rearview mirror.

I leaned forward slightly. "Excuse me, how long until we arrive at Orion—?"

The vehicle jolted suddenly as the driver stepped on the gas, and the speed slammed me back against the leather seats.

It all happened so fast—one minute I was getting the air knocked out of me, and in the next second, the driver had pulled open his door and rolled out of the car, leaving me alone in the speeding vehicle.

A panicked scream left my throat as I watched the cars in front of us all slam into each other, going up into flames.

I was next, I realized, as my car headed straight into the destruction that lay ahead.

The smell of flames and smoke reached me before I reached it.

It all happened in a matter of seconds—the car carrying me slammed into the flaming cars and trees.

My hands flew to the seat in front of me as my body was thrown forward. Before I could process a thought, I broke through the windshield, shards of glass embedding themselves into my skin as I fell onto the side of the road.

My body hit the granite hard, turning my lungs to mush and my limbs to ice.

Pain consumed every inch of me, my vision going white as my head hit the ground, ears ringing as if they were warning bells.

Another scream lodged in my throat, only this time I was choking on my own blood. Dread, fear, confusion—they all melded into one as my body struggled to keep up.

And then I felt it.

A hum in the air. A pulse.

My ears began to ring even louder.

Something was wrong.

Terribly, terribly wrong.

I glanced around wildly and saw only the chaos of burning cars. I heard the screams of the burning drivers; the scent of their flesh melting off their bones made my stomach churn. The convoy was gone. No other cars. No backup. Just me.

This was a targeted attack—one I knew my driver had a hand in.

But who was he?

Who could have done such a thing?

And then I heard it.

Growling.

Low. Feral. Surrounding me from every direction.

“No,” I whispered.

The driver—if that’s what he even was—stepped out from behind a tree, and when I looked into his eyes, the truth slammed into me.

He wasn’t here to deliver me.

He was here to deliver me to someone else.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice shaking.

Still no answer.

Then a snarl broke through the air, closer this time, and I turned just in time to see the shadows moving—large figures darting between trees with glowing amber eyes and bared teeth.

Wolves.

Not Redthorn. Not Orion.

Rogues.

I could smell it in the air. I could smell them.

"Run," something inside me screamed. But my body was a broken mess, unable to move—I couldn't even draw in a proper breath.

They circled me like vultures, slow and cruel. My breath came in short gasps, and every instinct screamed that this wasn’t random. This was a trap. And I was the prey.

One of them lunged toward me.

I screamed.

But before it could reach me—before I could be torn apart—he stepped through the trees.

A man.

No, not just a man. Something more. Something different.

He was massive, shirtless despite the cold, tattoos inked across his chest and arms like war paint. His hair was tousled brown, wild like the forest itself, and a thick stubble shadowed his jaw. His face was nothing less than perfection, a beauty that would put even the goddess to shame.

In his hold was a dagger, one I knew was no doubt meant for me—to kill me.

But it was his eyes that trapped me.

Dark, ancient, with an unnatural violet glow\... and locked entirely on me.

The wolves stopped instantly.

He walked straight into their midst, their snarls fading into silence at his presence. They parted for him like shadows bowing before flame.

His gaze never left mine.

I wanted to speak. To demand answers. To cry. But the second he drew closer, my body betrayed me.

Because something inside me flared to life. I could hear my blood pumping, rushing in my ears as he approached.

A heat. A pull unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

Just like in the stories.

The breath left my lungs all at once as his scent hit me—pine and smoke and something wild and intoxicating. My body weakened even more, yet I'd never felt so alive as I did in that moment.

He stopped in his tracks, brows pulling together, and his eyes held mine.

Mate.

The word burned across my skin like fire.

It couldn’t be.

It wasn’t Jerome. This wasn’t him.

But then he spoke, and his voice was gravel and steel all at once.

"Change of plans, princess," he said, his lip curling into a smirk that held no humor.

"You belong to me now."