Snap

Gage

The second her lips touched my blood, the tether should have settled like a brand and gone quiet. Temporary. Useful. A blunt tool for a human who’d stumbled into pack business.

Instead it hit like a strike to the ribs.

Heat. Pressure. A hard, instant awareness of her that had no business existing. My wolf surged up from under my skin, furious and hungry, and I had to clamp down so fast my teeth ached. I kept my hand at her mouth because pulling away felt like tearing something open, and that made no sense. A protection mark doesn’t do this. It doesn’t snap into place and grab back.

Her fingers dug into my forearm. She swayed. She was breathing hard, eyes wide, but it wasn’t the usual panic. It was recognition. My blood had met something inside her and answered.

Illegal, my mind supplied. Wrong. Impossible.

I forced my hand away and closed my fingers into a fist to stop the bleeding. The cut was already sealing; it wasn’t deep. My focus wasn’t on my skin anyway. It was on her scent, on the way it shifted in the cold air.

Human, yes. Soap. Ink. Coffee. A trace of fear-sweat. Under that, something else—faint, buried, like old ash under fresh snow. Pack-blood.

I stared at her mouth, at the smear of red she hadn’t wiped away. My wolf wanted to lick it. My wolf wanted to bite her throat and lock the bond the proper way, in front of the moon and the pack, with witnesses and law. My wolf wanted to drag her home and put a door between her and the world.

I wanted to kill whoever had put her in my path.

Her voice broke the spiral. “What did you just do to me?”

I didn’t answer because the answer would get us both killed if the wrong ears caught it.

The watcher by the truck shifted. I caught the tiny scrape of boot on gravel, the pulse of a phone screen dimming. Human. Not pack. I’d scented him earlier and dismissed him as bar trash. I’d been wrong. He wasn’t here for the music.

I moved my body between her and the line of sight without thinking. She noticed, of course. Humans always notice what they shouldn’t.

“You said tether,” she snapped, trying to stand straight. “That didn’t feel temporary.”

“It is,” I lied.

My jaw locked as the bond tugged—subtle, insistent. I could feel her heartbeat like an echo in my own pulse. That was not a tether. That was a bond.

A mate bond.

The council would call it an abomination if it formed through blood-marking. The old laws were clear: no forced bonds, no shortcuts, no claims on an unvetted outsider. Especially not someone connected to Crowe’s mess. Especially not a woman with pack-blood hiding under human skin.

I didn’t have time for the council. I had seconds.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Mara," she answered without a fight, to my surprise.

I hooked two fingers under Mara’s chin again, not gentle. Control. “Walk.”

She bared her teeth. “I’m not—”

I leaned in close enough that she could hear me over the bass thumping through the wall. “If you shout, you die. If you run, you die. If you stay here, you die. Pick the option where you keep breathing.”

Her eyes flashed with hate. Good. Hate keeps people moving. Fear freezes them.

She swallowed. “Who is that?”

“I’ll handle it.”

I didn’t look away from the watcher when I spoke. I didn’t need to. Peripheral vision and scent did the work. I tasted his adrenaline on the air. He wanted a recording. A photo. Proof. Or maybe he wanted a payout from Crowe for confirming the witness.

Either way, he couldn’t leave with a view of her face.

I raised my voice just enough to carry. “Leave.”

The watcher stiffened. He hadn’t expected me to address him. Humans rarely expect wolves to treat them like real threats until it’s too late.

He hesitated, then lifted his phone as if to film. A stupid move. A fatal one if I let my wolf decide.

Mara shifted beside me, tense, ready to bolt. The bond tugged again, warning me that she’d seen the phone too. A flicker of her fear hit my nerves like static.

I kept my tone flat. “Put it down.”

He didn’t. He started backing up, slow, filming the whole time.

I could have crossed the distance and broken his wrist in one breath. I could have dragged him into the treeline and made sure he never spoke again. That was the simple solution. It was also how pack wars started. It was also how the council justified purges.

I stepped toward him anyway, enough to change the math in his head. “Last warning.”

He lowered the phone a fraction. “Man, I didn’t see nothing.”

“Good,” I said. “Keep it that way.”

His gaze flicked to Mara, hungry with curiosity. “She okay?”

Mara lifted her chin, because she was stubborn. “I’m great.”

I wanted to shut her mouth with my hand. I didn’t. I tightened my grip on her wrist instead and guided her toward my truck parked two rows over. Pack vehicle. Tinted windows. Reinforced doors. No electronics that could be tracked.

Mara dug in her heels. “You can’t just take me.”

“I can,” I said.

She tried to yank her arm free. The bond flared. Not pain—pressure. A pull that snapped my attention back to her in a way that made my wolf press against my control.

I stopped walking. She nearly collided with my chest.

Her eyes lifted, defiant, and my wolf surged again. This was not the time for this.

I lowered my voice. “You want control? Walk to the truck on your own feet.”

“Or what?” she hissed.

“Or I carry you,” I said, letting a thread of the growl slip through. “And you don’t want my wolf making decisions tonight.”

Her throat bobbed. She hated that she believed me. She hated that I was right.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But if you try anything—”

“I already did,” I said, and the words tasted bitter.

At the truck, I opened the rear passenger door and angled her in. Not rough, but firm. She hesitated at the threshold, eyes scanning the interior like she expected chains.

“There are no restraints,” I said. “Sit.”

She sat, stiff-backed. Good. Still breathing.

I climbed in the driver’s seat and locked the doors. The watcher was gone. Coat Guy and the other human were still inside, arguing, but their voices were fading under the music. They wouldn’t follow me out here. They didn’t follow alphas. They followed money.

Mara turned toward me. “Tell me what that was.”

I started the engine. “A mistake.”

Her laugh was sharp. “That’s comforting.”

I pulled out of the lot, taking the back exit that cut toward the ridge. Away from cameras. Away from town. Toward pack land. Toward rules I could enforce.

The bond sat between us like a loaded weapon. My wolf watched her in the mirror. My wolf claimed her with every breath.

I kept my voice cold because if I let anything else in, I’d lose control. “You’re coming with me,” I said. “Now.”