His Mate’s Secret

I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. The forest blurred around me in streaks of black and silver, moonlight slipping through the trees just enough to show me where not to step. Twigs snapped beneath my bare paws. Branches tore at me and snagged in my fur, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My lungs burned with every ragged breath, my chest so tight it felt like it might cave in, but fear drove me forward harder than pain ever could. Behind me, the haunting sound of wolves howling split through the night. They were close. Too close. My pulse pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears, drowning out everything else for half a second before the sounds of the forest came rushing back—the rustling leaves, the thunder of paws against dirt, the low growls carried by the wind. Every sound sent another wave of panic crashing through me. I forced my legs to move faster, even though they already felt like they were about to give out. I’d been running for what felt like hours, weaving through trees and over roots, praying for a miracle I knew wasn’t coming. My body was screaming at me to stop. My throat was raw. My legs shook with exhaustion. But stopping wasn’t an option. If they caught me, it would all be over. A branch whipped across my cheek, leaving a sharp sting behind. I barely noticed it. My heartbeat had become one steady drum of terror, my mind consumed with one thing and one thing only: Run. I risked a glance over my shoulder and instantly wished I hadn’t. Shadows moved between the trees behind me—fast, sleek, terrifyingly close. Their eyes glinted in the darkness, reflecting the moonlight like tiny flames. Wolves. More than one. Their growls rumbled through the woods like distant thunder, and my stomach dropped. No. No, no, no. I pushed harder, ignoring the way my left paw twisted awkwardly against the uneven ground. Pain shot up my leg, but adrenaline swallowed it whole. My breaths came out in broken gasps as I darted between two thick trees, nearly slipping on damp leaves. Please. Please let me get away. The prayer was useless. I knew it even as it crossed my mind. No one was coming for me. No one ever came. A sudden rustle sounded to my right. My entire body locked up with dread. I turned my head just enough to see him, and the breath left my lungs. Jace. Even in his wolf form, there was no mistaking him. He was enormous—quite larger than most other wolves, his dark brown coat blending so easily into the shadows it looked like he’d been carved straight from the night itself. His movements were effortless, almost lazy, like chasing me wasn’t even a challenge. Like this was a game he knew he’d already won. His golden eyes met mine, glowing in the darkness. Possessive. Cruel. Amused. My stomach twisted violently. He ran beside me for several terrifying seconds, matching my pace with ease while I fought for every breath. I could feel him watching me, could feel the sick satisfaction rolling off him in waves. He loved this part. Loved the fear. Loved knowing I was exhausting myself just to delay the inevitable. I stumbled over a root and nearly went down, catching myself at the last second with a strangled gasp. My paws scraped against rough bark as I shoved myself forward again. Jace kept pace beside me, his massive paws barely making a sound against the forest floor. Then, without warning, he stopped. I only realized it because the pressure of him at my side vanished. Confusion sliced through my panic. Why had he stopped? I didn’t dare slow down to find out. I ran harder, forcing my burning legs to carry me deeper into the woods. Every instinct screamed at me to keep going, to put as much distance between us as possible before he changed his mind. My vision blurred from tears and exhaustion, but I blinked them away and kept moving. That was when I saw it—a massive hollow tree tucked between a cluster of thick brush, its opening just wide enough for someone my size to squeeze into. Hope hit me so fast it nearly knocked the air from my lungs. Without thinking, I lunged for it. I shoved branches aside and dropped, scrambling into the hollow space. The bark scraped against my legs and shoulders as I forced myself deeper inside, curling into the cramped darkness until I was hidden from sight. The space smelled like damp earth and rotting wood, but I barely noticed. I pressed myself against the rough interior and bit down on my tongue to keep a sound escaping my mouth, trying to muffle the sound of my breathing. My whole body shook. I could hear everything. The pounding of my heart. The rush of blood in my ears. The distant wind moving through the trees. And then— “Ivy!” Jace’s voice cracked through the forest like a whip. I flinched so hard my head slammed into the top of the tree. Fear slithered down my spine, cold and sharp. Even without seeing him, I could picture the fury on his face, the way his jaw would be clenched, the way his eyes would burn with rage over the fact that I’d slipped out of his hands for even a few minutes. “Ivy!” he roared again, closer this time. “Get out here!” I squeezed my eyes shut, my claws digging into the dirt so hard it hurt. Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t make a sound. Leaves crunched outside. Heavy footsteps circled somewhere nearby. He was looking for me. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out as panic clawed its way up my throat. If he found me, he’d drag me back. And if he dragged me back after I’d tried to run— I couldn’t even let myself think about what he’d do. Another sound cut through the trees. Not Jace. Not a wolf. A voice. Deep. Rough. Powerful enough to make the air itself feel heavier. “Alpha Jace.” Every muscle in my body went rigid. The stranger’s voice was sharp with warning, low and dangerous in a way that made the hairs on my neck rise. I’d never heard it before, but something about it sent a strange chill through me—something colder than fear, something I couldn’t explain. “I thought I told you never to step foot near my territory again.” Territory. My eyes widened in the darkness of the hollow tree. Another alpha. For a moment, the forest went silent. Even the wind seemed to still, as if the entire world was holding its breath to hear what would happen next. Then Jace laughed. The sound was dark and mocking, and it made my stomach turn. “I wouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance, “if you didn’t have something that belongs to me.” Belongs to me. The words hit me like a blow to the chest. I could hear my own breathing growing frantic, could feel my heartbeat pounding harder and harder against my ribs. There was a pause before the stranger spoke again. “What are you talking about?” His voice was colder this time. More dangerous. Jace let out another low laugh, like he was enjoying himself. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said. “Don’t get too attached.” A chill crawled up my spine. “I’ll be back for what’s mine.” Mine. The word echoed in my head long after he said it, poisoning the surrounding air. I pressed myself farther into the tree, my whole body trembling so badly I could barely keep still. I didn’t know who the stranger was, didn’t know what territory I’d stumbled into or why Jace had suddenly stopped chasing me the second I crossed into it—but one thing was painfully clear. Jace wasn’t done with me. Not even close. A tense silence followed his words, and for one horrifying second I thought a fight was about to break out right there in the middle of the forest. I imagined claws and teeth and blood, imagined being caught in the middle of it all with nowhere to run. But instead, all I heard were retreating footsteps crunching over leaves and dirt. Jace was leaving. At least for now. I stayed exactly where I was, too terrified to move. The stranger didn’t speak again, but I could feel his presence somewhere out there in the darkness—waiting, listening, maybe even searching. I held my breath until my lungs ached, praying he wouldn’t hear me hidden inside the tree. One alpha hunting me was bad enough. I didn’t know if a second one would be any better. Minutes passed. Or maybe it was only seconds. Time felt wrong when you were afraid. Eventually, the woods grew quiet again. The howling had faded into the distance, and the only sound left was the shaky pull of my own breathing. My muscles screamed from being cramped inside the hollow trunk, but I didn’t dare move yet. I kept expecting Jace to come back, expecting his hand to reach into the darkness and drag me out by my paw like he’d done before. But he didn’t. And still, I couldn’t stop shaking. I curled tighter into myself, pressing my head against my stomach as I fought to keep from falling apart. Dirt clung to my fur. Blood from the cuts on my legs had started to dry. My lungs still burned from the run, and every part of me felt raw, inside and out. This wasn’t the first time I’d run from Jace. But it was the first time I’d made it this far. And you’re probably wondering why I was running from him. Why hearing his voice makes my blood turn to ice? Why the word mine feels more like a death sentence than anything else. To answer that, we have to go back eight years—to the night everything in my life was stolen from me.