Chapter 2: Take your hands off my mate (Kendrick POV)

I jerked awake, heart pounding. For a second, I just sat there, breath shallow, scanning the shadows of my room.

Empty.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to shake the heaviness from my chest. Sweat clung to my skin, beading on my bare torso. My long hair clung damply to my forehead, and I flicked it back, muttering a curse.

Something had pulled me from sleep. Something more than a dream.

I got up and walked to the window. The full moon stared back at me, cold and silver. Mocking. Another night without my mate.

Kaiden should’ve been here.

My twin brother left Lunaria a year ago and hadn’t returned. Not a single letter. No message. Nothing.

I hated thinking about that day—watching him walk away, saying he needed to "find himself," to find his mate. That he wanted more than the kingdom. That he wanted freedom.

We were supposed to rule together. The Blackthorn Brothers. Equal Alphas of Lunaria—strongest werewolf kingdom in the realm.

We were perfect for it. Born to lead. Raised with purpose. Sworn to each other.

Until he left. And left me behind.

I shoved the memory aside, ready to go back to bed, when a chill danced across my spine. I stopped moving.

Something shifted in the air.

My wolf stirred. Awake. Alive.

I turned back toward the moon, my breath catching.

It couldn’t be…

But I knew that feeling. Deep in my soul.

My mate.

She was out there. Somewhere. Reaching for me through the bond.

Without hesitation, I shifted—bones cracking, muscle stretching, fur exploding across my skin.

I leapt from the window and into the trees, the wind howling around me as I ran. The mate bond pulled at me like a tether, a magnetic pull straight into the night.

The forest blurred around me as I raced, paws tearing across the ground. I ran for hours, never slowing, the moon guiding me.

Then I heard her.

"LET ME GO!"

A scream—raw, terrified. Female.

Her.

"HELP! HELP ME!"

My head throbbed, a jolt of pain slicing through my skull like lightning.

She was in danger.

A snarl ripped from my throat as rage erupted inside me, primal and ferocious. I roared into the night, shaking the forest as I surged forward, faster, harder, angrier.

She was mine.

They were going to pay.

I crashed through the forest and into a clearing—and there they were. Eight of them. Lycans.

And in the arms of one of them—her.

My mate.

Unconscious. Bleeding.

I could barely contain the fury boiling under my skin.

I shifted back into my human form, stepping into the clearing. My voice was low. I didn’t need to yell to be heard.

“Take your hands off my mate.”

The one holding her flinched. Still in wolf form, he took a step back, then shifted, trying to square his shoulders like he had any power here.

“The girl belongs to us,” he said. “We’re taking her back to our Alpha.”

I took a step forward.

The others growled, unease rippling through the group. Good. They should be afraid.

“Stay away,” one warned, but his voice wavered. “We don’t want trouble.”

I vanished in a blur.

Two sharp howls tore through the night. Bodies dropped. Two lycans dead before they hit the ground.

Their hearts lay on the forest floor, ripped clean from their chests.

The others froze. Horror in their eyes. They looked at me—really looked—and saw death.

I repeated myself, voice colder than before. “Take your hands off my mate. I won’t ask a third time.”

The lycan holding her turned red with fury. He turned to the others.

“Take him out! Now!”

They charged.

I didn’t move.

They fell, one by one. Flesh ripped. Bones shattered. Their screams filled the night.

Blood soaked the dirt.

Only one remained—Astrid’s captor. He trembled as I stepped from the shadows, claws dripping red, my eyes glowing like rubies in the dark.

He stared at me, breath shallow. “W-Who are you?”

I snarled. “Your worst nightmare.”

Then I was on him.

He dropped her just in time before I slammed a fist into his chest. He flew backward, crashing into a tree with a sickening crack.

Silence.

I crouched beside her, brushing wet strands of hair from her face. She was still unconscious, but her heartbeat was strong. I could feel the mate bond humming beneath her skin.

“Mine,” I whispered, cupping her cheek. Sparks flared beneath my touch.

I lifted her into my arms, holding her like something sacred. She was small. Fragile. But not broken. No—she was fierce. I could feel it, even now.

I turned to the one who had taken her. He lay coughing, bleeding into the earth.

“I should kill you for touching her,” I growled. “But I need you to deliver a message. What pack are you from?”

He spat blood, barely breathing. “Iron Claw Pack,” he rasped.

The name hit me like ice. My eyes narrowed.

“Kael Dawson.”

I remembered him. The usurper. The tyrant who murdered Iron Claw’s true Alpha and seized power.

“You tell Kael,” I said, voice low, “his death is coming. For hurting my mate—he will suffer. I will burn his pack to the ground.”

I turned to leave, Astrid held close to my chest.

“W-Wait…” the man croaked. “Who are you?”

I paused.

“One of the Blackthorn Brothers,” I said without looking back. “The name should tell Kael exactly what awaits him.”

Then I disappeared into the forest.

Behind me, I heard him gasp—a sharp, pained inhale.

Everyone knew our name.

The brothers who slaughtered the vampire coven. The witches’ bane. The twin Alphas of Lunaria.

The most feared wolves in the realm.

And now Kael Dawson had made a fatal mistake.

He touched what was mine.