All Chapters of Miracle's Reckless Mate : Chapter 1 - Chapter 6

The mountain did not care about five years of unadulterated hatred.Within twenty minutes of the border skirmish and covering the dead guards with large leaves, the clouds split open into a torrential downpour that turned the steep trails of the northern ridge into churned rivers of mud. With the heavy downpour, Miracle found herself trapped three miles up the cliffside with a man who felt like a ghost walking around in a physical body.Every step up the ridge was a quiet war. Her wolf kept thrashing against her ribs, hyper-aware of the massive footprint he left in the mud ahead of her, hyper-aware of the heavy, rhythmic sound of his breathing. The storm whipped rain sideways into her face, but it wasn't enough to wash away the memory of his thumb against her wrist or the way his steel-gray eyes had pinned her to the earth down at the watch post."The valley path is washed out, Mimi," Talon said, stopping near the edge of the tree line and wiping a mix of rainwater and blood from his

Sharing an office in the Alpha suite was pure, concentrated torture.The oak desk in the center of the room was eight feet long, but it felt like two inches. Miracle slammed a thick stack of border patrol reports onto the dark wood, deliberately letting the hard corner graze Talon’s knuckles."Sign section four," she said, her tone clipped and icy. "And stop staring at me."Talon leaned back in his leather chair, his heavy combat boots stretched far under the desk until the toe of his boot brushed against her shin. He was twirling a heavy silver pen between his tattooed fingers, completely ignoring the mountain of logistics files sitting in front of him. His handwriting on the few forms he had signed was a jagged, messy scrawl that looked more like syndicate code than pack record-keeping."I'm not staring," he said smoothly, his eyes tracking the tight, defensive line of her shoulders. "I'm admiring the way your forehead crinkles when you're trying to figure out how to legally banish

The slate cliffs at midnight were a graveyard of razor-sharp stone and freezing mountain fog. The First Trial was a sensory deprivation run, an ancient tradition designed to strip a warrior down to raw, unadulterated instinct. Miracle and Talon stood at the jagged edge of the eastern drop-off, the icy wind tearing at their tunics. Thick bands of black leather were tied tight over their eyes, and heavy hemp rope bound their wrists loosely in front of them. Three miles below lay the lower riverbed, marked only by the faint, metallic scent of fresh copper coins hidden beneath the freezing water. To make the run brutal, the elders had doused the treacherous terrain with blinding sensory distractions: pulverized garlic-root, smoldering silver-weed, and wet sulfur smoke that clung to the damp hollows. The bronze horn shattered the silence, and Miracle bolted. She didn't need her eyes. She knew the northern ridge by heart, counting her strides in the dark, her center of gravity low