Chapter 5

Vane

I ran.

No thought. No decision. My legs moved before my mind caught up, paws tearing into the earth, body low, every instinct I had screaming the same word.

Go.

The reasoning came second, tumbling in while the trees whipped past.

He was here. In Darkmoon's territory. Which meant he was Darkmoon. One of them.

I was a tribute from a conquered pack. A warrior pretending to be an alpha's daughter because the alternative was watching my best friend get dragged from her home. If my fatedmate was Darkmoon, he'd know my scent. He'd know I wasn't alpha blood. The necklace was tucked in my jacket pocket a mile behind me.

And if Cain Corvus found out I'd tricked him, the coffee on his head would be the least of my problems. I'd seen the controlled rage in his face when it hit. The white knuckles on the desk edge. That kind of anger didn't forget.

But there was more.

My pack lost twenty wolves to Darkmoon. Twenty bodies left stiffening in the afternoon sun while Cain Corvus stood in our clearing and demanded a tribute.

Those wolves had names. I'd trained with some of them. Bled with them. Carried their weight on patrol runs through freezing rain.

I couldn't accept a mate from the pack that killed them. Not tonight. Not ever.

Vane, stop! Ashen screamed inside my skull. That's our mate! We've waited since we were eighteen! Five years, Vane! Five years!

I ran harder.

The scent chased me, stronger with every stride, dragging at my ribs no matter how hard I ran.

Then the howl came.

Low and long, rolling through the forest like thunder that wouldn't stop. It rattled my teeth. It rattled something deeper.

He's calling us, Ashen whispered. Please.

I changed direction. Cut left through a dense stand of pines, leaped a frozen creek, sprinted up a ridge.

I knew how to evade. I'd trained for pursuit since I was fourteen. My mother had run me through night drills in terrain worse than this. Different wolf, same survival instinct.

But my mother had never trained me to outrun my own body.

The howl came again. Closer.

The forest floor blurred beneath my paws. Roots, stones, frozen mud. Every muscle fired at full stretch, but the scent kept gaining on me no matter how fast I ran.

It thickened until I could taste it at the back of my throat. Cedar and iron and something raw underneath, something that made my wolf whine and my legs falter.

I didn't falter. I pushed.

Then the trees exploded.

A massive black wolf burst from the shadows to my left. Enormous, twice my size, his coat so dark he'd been invisible against the pines until the moment he moved. His eyes caught the moonlight and burned gold.

My heart slammed against my ribs. My stride broke for half a second before instinct snapped it back.

He locked onto me and followed.

I had speed. He had territory.

I knew these woods from one run. He'd lived in them his whole life. Every fallen log, every dip in the terrain, every gap between the trunks, he used them all.

I cut right. He anticipated and cut the angle.

I jumped a ravine. He went around it and met me on the other side.

The distance between us shrank with every stride. Ten lengths. Five. Three.

Let him catch us, Ashen begged. Please, Vane, he's ours.

A growl tore from my throat. Deep. Threatening. I spun to face him.

If he wanted to catch me, he'd have to fight for it.

I lunged. My jaws snapped at his shoulder, caught fur and muscle, and I twisted. He staggered sideways.

I pressed the attack. Went low for his forelegs, trying to knock him off balance.

He recovered too fast. His paw swiped my flank and the force sent me skidding across pine needles. I scrambled up and charged again.

Stop fighting him! Ashen howled inside me. You're hurting our mate!

I blocked her out.

This time he caught my shoulder in his jaws. I broke free and raked my claws across his muzzle. He snarled, shook his head, and came back harder.

He feinted left. I lunged for the opening and his jaws closed on empty air where my throat had been a second ago.

I rolled, came up snarling, and drove my shoulder into his side. He barely moved.

His patience was thinning. Each strike landed sharper, more deliberate. His jaw ground tighter after every failed pin.

He was stronger than me. I'd known that from the first hit. But I was a warrior, and warriors didn't go down easy.

Then he stopped holding back.

His jaws closed around my neck. Not breaking skin. Controlling.

The pressure was absolute, his teeth against my throat, his weight crashing down on top of me.

My legs buckled. My chest hit the ground. His body covered mine, massive and hot, his paws caging my shoulders into the earth.

I couldn't move. Couldn't twist free. Couldn't breathe without feeling his ribs expand against my spine.

The ground was cold against my belly. One of his fangs pressed into the fur at my neck, not piercing, just holding. A pressure that said *stay*.

The forest went still.

Our mate, Ashen said. He found us.

I told her to shut up.

His scent poured over me. Close enough that it blocked out everything else — pine, earth, cold air, all of it gone. Just him. Just that deep, impossible pull that had chased me through every turn and leap and desperate sprint through these woods.

Ashen was sobbing inside my head. Begging me to submit, to tilt my chin up, to show him our throat and let the bond seal.

I snarled up at him instead. Bared every tooth I had.

His golden eyes stared down at me. No recognition in them. No tenderness. Just a predator studying the thing he'd caught.

Then I heard his voice.

Low. Rough. More growl than words.

Who are you?