Chapter 5

Benjamin's POV

The river ran black and merciless under the moon, I stood at the rickety dock's edge, one boot on the bow of the boat. Marcus lingered a few paces behind me with his arms folded and impatience rolling off him in waves.

“Alpha, the moon's cresting and the border patrols from Red Mist could sweep through any minute. The alliance talks won't hold if we're late.”

I didn't respond. Timber was already restless…pacing back and forth, snarling, claws scraping bone.

I dragged in a breath, sorting the night: there was wet pine and distant smoke from some rogue campfire. Then it hit.

A sweet scent. Gods, so sweet.

It smelt like wild honey warmed by the gods themselves, vanilla crushed under bare feet, and threaded through it all was the strong metallic bite of fresh blood. It slammed into my lungs like a blade, set my veins on fire, and woke something I'd buried six years deep.

My cock instantly. twitched. It was so hard and clearly unwanted.

“Mate.”

The word roared through me, ancient, undeniable. My wolf lunged forward, ripping at my control. I clenched my jaw until my teeth ached. No. Not again. Elara's face flashed, her laugh, her blood on the forest floor, the rogues tearing her apart while Harlan Anderson's pack looked the other way. Or worse…sent them. The source of all my problems.

I'd sworn never to feel that pull again. Never to let another female close enough to carve out what little remained of my soul.

“Benjamin?” Marcus's voice sharpened. “What is it?”

“I smell blood,” I growled low. “And something sweeter.”

He inhaled, frowning. “Rogues? We cleared this stretch yesterday.”

“No.” I was already moving, boots crunching river stones toward the shadowed bend where the cliff loomed overhead. The scent curled tighter, pulling me like iron chains around my throat. “Stay with the boat.”

“Time's running out—” Marcus argued. I almost wondered what the rush was, it wasn't like I'll marry the Luna he has in mind…At least, that's what he thinks.

“Then leave without me.” My voice dropped to a snarl.

Curiosity and recklessness overrode everything. Timber didn't give a damn about a fucking thing right now. He wanted whatever bled that intoxicating scent.

The pull grew stronger with every step, drowning out Elara's ghost, making my blood pound hot and heavy. I hated it. Hated how it felt like betrayal.

There.

A body floated in the shallows, half-submerged, long raven-black hair fanning across the dark water like spilled ink. Pale skin gleamed moonlit, bruised and torn. The silk of a dress clung to her…it was deep crimson and silver.

I waded in the freezing water which numbed my thighs. Up close, the details became clear. I saw faint freckles across her nose, elegant jaw even in death's grip, curves that pressed soft and cold when I scooped her up. She weighed nothing. Bleeding from her mouth. She was delivered straight to my hands.

My gaze dropped to her collarbone.

A crescent moon birthmark, silver-edged, pulsed faintly like the goddess herself had kissed it.

Harlan Anderson's daughter.

Olivia.

Old and familiar rage surged. Harlan…the coward who let my mate die. His line owed me blood. And here she was, the spoiled heir, floating like an offering.

I should let the river finish her. Let her sink like Elara had sunk into silence.

But the bond snapped taut, a live wire searing my veins.

Timber howled: *Mine. Protect. Claim.*

Heat flooded low through my body possessively. My arms tightened around her instinctively.

Fuck.

I carried her to the rocky shore and laid her down. Her chest rose in a shallow, ragged way. Her pulse thready under my fingers.

She was dying.

Panic clawed my throat….panic I hadn't felt since Elara's last breath. My wolf didn't care about revenge; he cared about the soft flutter at her neck, the way her scent wrapped around me like ownership.

Instinct overrode hate. I drew my silver edged blade sharply and slit my wrist deep. Dark alpha blood welled, thick with power. I pressed the wound to her parted lips, tilting her head back.

“Drink,” I ordered, voice gravel-rough. “You don't get to die yet, princess.”

Her throat worked weakly. My blood slid down, and color flooded her cheeks like dawn breaking.

Gashes knit before my eyes slowly, then faster. The bond ignited, heat roaring through every inch of me, straight to my groin. Her tongue brushed my skin softly, she felt fever-hot and a jolt of raw need shot through me. I fisted her wet hair, holding her steady, fighting the urge to drag her closer, to taste her myself.

Her eyes snapped open. Emerald green, flecked with silver fury. No terror or fear .. Just blazing, stubborn anger.

She shoved at my chest. “Get… off me.”

I caught her wrist in an iron grip, pinning it above her head against the cold stone. Her pulse hammered under my thumb fastly. The contact sent sparks racing up my arm, the bond demanding more.

“I know who you are,” I said, leaning in until our breaths tangled. “Olivia Anderson. Harlan's little princess. Red Mist's precious heir.”

Tears welled in those striking eyes, but she didn't flinch. “My father's dead.” Her voice cracked…hoarse, raw. “They killed him. Let me go.”

Something twisted in my chest, it was definitely unwelcome. But the break in her voice echoed too close to my own hollow grief. I shoved it down hard.

I leaned closer to her, my nose brushing her temple and inhaling deeply. That scent of honey flooded me. My wolf growled low in approval.

“Even dead, Harlan owes me,” I murmured against her ear, lips grazing skin. “Your pack took my mate. My everything. So you'll pay in his place. You'll wear my mark, stand at my side as Luna, and feel every inch of what they stole…until hate turns to something worse.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “No fucking way..”

She twisted, clawed at my arm, but exhaustion and incomplete healing dragged her under.

Rage and grief warred in her gaze, then her body went limp again. Head lolling to the side, exposing the long line of her throat. The crescent mark pulsed once…alive under the smear of my blood.

She didn't look like any wolf I'd seen before. Something rarer that would make a perfect fit for my Luna hunt.

I stared down at her, chest heaving. The bond thrummed between us.

I lifted her again, cradling her against my chest like something precious and poisonous. Her head tucked under my chin, breath warm on my neck. Marcus appeared at the tree line, eyes wide.

“Alpha… is that—”

“Red Mist's princess,” I cut him off, voice flat. “She's coming with us.”

He opened his mouth, closed it. Smart.

I carried her toward the boat. When she opened her eyes. She jumped out of my arms so fast.

“I can never accept you as my mate!” She growled fiercely. She oozed out extreme alpha power. Marcus watched with wide eyes.

“I, Olivia Anderson.. Reject you.. Benjamin Thorne as my mate!” She said, her red lips in a straight line.

I cleared my throat, and smirked. She clearly didn't know who she was fucking around with.

“I, alpha Benjamin Thorne..Reject your rejection.”