With her pack destroyed and parents killed Everleigh Grey goes on the journey to escape and comes face to face with her mate.

Chapter 7 : The First Defiance

Morning light filtered weakly through the cracked window, casting pale streaks across the ruined room. Everleigh sat on the edge of the bed, her jaw tight, her fists clenched in her lap. She hadn’t slept again after the vision.

The memory of the man with the storm-dark eyes lingered, a ghost against her skin. The bond hummed faintly inside her chest, reminding her of one truth: she was not completely broken, not yet.

The door opened without a knock. Isaac stepped inside, his presence filling the space like poison.

“Good,” he drawled, looking her over with a predator’s gaze. “You’re awake. I was worried grief would keep you in bed all day.”

Everleigh’s lip curled. “Worried? Don’t pretend you care.”

Isaac’s grin was slow, deliberate. “You’re right. I don’t care about your tears. But I do care about that fire in your eyes.” He reached out, brushing a lock of her hair back with mock gentleness. “You’ll give me strong heirs with that fire.”

Everleigh jerked her head away, her voice sharp as glass. “I would rather carry the devil’s child than yours.”

The smile slid from his face. His eyes darkened. “Careful.”

Her pulse thundered, but she didn’t look away. “Kill me if you want. But I will never be yours.”

The tension snapped taut, the air crackling between them. Isaac’s hand shot out, gripping her throat—not enough to choke, but enough to remind her of his power.

“You think you’re brave,” he murmured, his voice like velvet over steel. “You think defiance makes you strong. But you’ll learn. Every wolf breaks eventually. And when you do, you’ll beg for me.”

Everleigh glared at him, refusing to flinch. “I will die before I beg you.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. For a long moment, silence stretched between them, sharp and suffocating. Then Isaac released her with a shove, stepping back, his smirk returning like a blade drawn from a sheath.

“Good,” he said coldly. “Stay fiery. I enjoy the fight. It makes your defeat that much sweeter.”

He left, the door slamming shut behind him.

Everleigh gasped for breath, her hand flying to her throat. Her body trembled, but not from fear. From rage.

She stared at the door, her eyes burning with ice and fire both.

You’ll never have me, Isaac Maes.