Fated to a Human

Chapter 1

Tucked away in the remote heart of Montana was a quiet little town called Hollow Pines. A place forgotten by time. The town was surrounded by thick woods that stretched for miles in every direction, cloaking it in evergreen shadows and the scent of pine. At night, the trees whispered secrets, rustling with an eerie hush that only the wolves understood. Under the pale light of a full moon, everything looked silver and still. Peaceful. Deceptively so.

The people of Hollow Pines were nestled in their homes, warm in their beds, unaware that tonight was different. Something in the air shifted—thicker, heavier. The kind of silence that came before the storm. Everyone rested, save for one man. Garrett Grey.

The leader of the Black Rose pack stood in his office at the edge of town, staring out the window toward the darkened woods. Garrett was a massive man, with steel-gray hair at his temples, a thick beard, and the kind of posture that demanded respect. His eyes—sharp and alert—refused to close for the night.

Something was wrong. He could feel it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. Instinct. Something ancient in his blood warned him.

Then—

A snarl.

Distant. Down the hall.

Then another. Closer.

The scent hit him next. Copper. Blood.

His heart dropped.

Before he could move, the heavy oak door to his office was kicked off its hinges with a thunderous crack.

Garrett stood his ground, his fists clenched at his sides. In the doorway stood a tall man with wild eyes and blood dripping from his hands. An evil smirk stretched across his face, darkened with satisfaction.

Behind him, a voice called out.

"Wait."

The bloody man stepped aside. A new figure entered, radiating power. Calm, commanding power. The kind that made even seasoned warriors bow.

Alpha Jack Carson. Leader of the Blood Moon pack.

Jack had always been a threat—ruthless, hungry for dominance, and willing to do whatever it took to grow his territory. He was the kind of Alpha who made monsters fear the dark.

Garrett didn’t flinch.

"You’re not getting my pack, Jack," he said with gravel in his voice.

Jack smiled. "Is that so?"

In a flash, Jack’s hand was around Garrett’s throat, lifting him off the ground with terrifying strength. Garrett clawed at his grip, gasping, his boots scraping against the wood floor.

Jack squeezed tighter.

"You should’ve handed it over when you had the chance," he said, eyes glowing with crimson rage.

Garrett’s face turned red, then purple. His legs kicked weakly. Still, he managed to wheeze out a single, defiant sentence:

"My son... Nathan... is still next in line..."

Jack’s expression twisted. Fury flared in his eyes.

With a growl, he crushed Garrett’s windpipe and ripped his throat out in one violent motion. Blood sprayed across the desk, soaking the map of pack territories Garrett had so carefully guarded.

Jack dropped the lifeless body to the floor and calmly fixed the sleeves of his shirt, brushing invisible lint from his cuff.

He turned to his beta, a scar-faced man with cold eyes.

"Find the runt," Jack ordered. "Find Nathan Grey. He’s next. And when he’s dead, the Black Rose pack is mine."

---

The moon hung low over the Pacific coast, casting a silver sheen across the Bennett estate. Waves of palm trees swayed in the breeze like dancers lost in rhythm, but the walls of the guesthouse were far from calm.

A rhythmic thud echoed through Nathan Grey’s bedroom, shaking the bedframe with every hard thrust. The mattress squeaked under the weight of his body, pressed tightly against the half-naked girl tangled in his sheets. Her nails raked down his back, her legs wrapped around his waist like a vise.

“Oh my god—right there, Daddy!” she gasped, breathless and wild.

Nathan growled low in his throat, eyes glowing faintly as he pinned her hips down with force. The girl beneath him arched up, moaning like she wanted the whole neighborhood to know who was making her feel that way.

"Oh my God your d**k is so big!" she gasped.

Sweat glistened across their skin. Her cheerleader skirt had been thrown across the room hours ago, and her lip gloss was smeared all over his jaw. Nathan didn’t care who she was — tonight she was just a distraction. Like all the others.

The room smelled like s*x and smoke and something darker — something wild. The energy in the air felt charged, electric.

When it was over, she collapsed against him, panting. “Damn,” she muttered, tracing her fingers along his chest. “You’re insane…”

Nathan smirked lazily, brushing a strand of damp blonde hair from her cheek. “I get that a lot.”

She giggled and rolled off him, grabbing her clothes. “I gotta go. School tomorrow. Don’t pretend like you’ll miss me.”

He didn’t answer. Just gave her a wink and a cocky smile as she slipped out the door, still buttoning her blouse.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Silence.

Nathan lay back in bed, one arm behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead. The smirk faded. His jaw clenched. Something wasn’t right.

He stared at the shadows dancing across the ceiling, heart still racing — but not from the s*x. It was something else. Something deeper.

A shift.

It had hit him like a wave the moment she walked out. His chest felt tighter. His skin prickled. It was as if the air around him had changed.

Power.

It pulsed under his skin — subtle, but undeniable. For a moment, it felt like his senses were sharper, like he could hear the wind outside whispering to the trees… or the way his pulse echoed in his ears.

Nathan slid down into the sheets, turning onto his side. His muscles relaxed, but his mind didn’t. That empty feeling had returned — a hollow ache in his chest that no amount of s*x or success could ever seem to erase.

He had the looks. The body. The charm. He could have any girl he wanted, and he usually did. But afterward?

It always felt like something was missing. Like he was chasing a ghost he couldn’t name.

His bare chest rose and fell slowly, sweat still clinging to his toned skin. He ran a hand through his tousled, dark hair and stared up at the ceiling. Something felt… different. Off.

But then he smirked.

“Probably just the afterglow,” he muttered.

He'd just had s*x with one of the hottest girls in school, and she'd definitely made sure he knew it. Maybe it was the confidence boost. Maybe it was just another ego high. Still, even as he smiled, the sensation of something missing lingered.

No matter how many girls he slept with, no matter how much attention he got, it never seemed to be enough. That strange emptiness inside him—the void—was always there.

He sighed. The sheets were a mess, the smell of perfume still lingering. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but the hollow ache stayed.

The next morning, Nathan stood shirtless in front of the bathroom mirror in the guesthouse, running a towel through his messy dark hair. His reflection stared back, and even he had to admit—he looked good.

Chiseled jawline framed with a light, scruffy beard. Sharp cheekbones. Full lips curved in that natural smirk girls loved. His eyes—icy, electric blue—seemed brighter this morning. Maybe it was the lighting. Or maybe something really had shifted last night.

He tossed on a fitted black t-shirt that hugged his form, followed by dark jeans and a leather jacket slung casually over one shoulder.

Nathan stepped out into the crisp morning air and made his way across the property to the main house. The Bennett estate was massive—a mansion tucked into the wealthy hills of coastal California. Palm trees lined the long driveway, and everything about the place screamed money. Nathan had never cared for luxury, but it was better than living alone.

Inside, the smell of fresh coffee and toasted bagels greeted him.

Peter was already in the kitchen, perched on one of the leather stools at the massive white marble island. He was scrolling through his phone with one hand, the other lazily holding a half-eaten bagel.

Peter looked up and grinned.

“Jesus, Nate. You nearly cracked the damn walls last night,” he said with a mouthful. “She was screaming, bro. ‘Right there, daddy?’ Really?”

Nathan snorted and made us way to the fridge.

“Hey, what can I say? She was enthusiastic.”

Peter had sharp-featured, strikingly attractive with bold eyebrows, mischievous eyes, and naturally wavy, slightly tousled hair. He was already dressed in his usual effortlessly stylish way: black skinny jeans, a loose white V-neck, and a silk emerald robe draped over his shoulders like royalty.

"She was screaming like a banshee. I'm pretty sure the neighbors heard her yelling 'Daddy,' and that wasn’t even the weirdest part." Peter teased, winking.

Nathan said, laughing. He twisted the cap off his bottle and took a long drink. "You just wish you got that much action."

Peter rolled his eyes dramatically. "Please. I could have any guy I want. I just have high standards. Also, I prefer guys who don’t grunt through entire conversations like cavemen."

Nathan said, leaning against the counter. "Sometimes a grunt is all you need."

Peter grinned, licking cream cheese off his finger.

"Ugh, you’re disgusting. But, annoyingly, still hot. It’s really unfair. Can you at least get ugly so I feel better about myself in the mornings?"

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "You want me to stop shaving completely and let the wolf beard take over?"

"God, no. That’s the only thing keeping your pretty-boy face from being totally unapproachable. The scruff?" Peter said with a fake swoon.

Nathan rolled his eyes but smiled.

Peter made a gagging noise. “You’re seriously the worst.”

“But you love me,” Nathan teased.

Peter shrugged. “Debatable.”

They shared a laugh before heading toward the garage to grab their stuff. As they stepped out into the warm California morning, Peter tossed Nathan his car keys.

“Try not to traumatize the neighborhood girls today, alright?”

“No promises.”

And with that, they were off—two best friends, one very big secret, and a world about to shift around them.