The Runaway Alpha's Feral Mate

Chapter Three

Liam stumbled backward, his heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not here. Not with her.

Mine. The word echoed in his head, a claim that sent electric currents racing beneath his skin.

His wolf—dormant for so long—was suddenly wide awake and howling. Eight years of careful suppression shattered in an instant by those silver eyes and that single, possessive word.

"I need to—" Liam's voice cracked. He cleared his throat, gesturing vaguely toward the door. "More tests. Later."

Eleanor's concerned face appeared in his peripheral vision as the containment door slid open behind him. "Liam? Are you okay?"

He couldn't look back. Wouldn't look back. But he felt those silver eyes boring into him, cold with betrayal and disappointment. As the door closed, a low, mournful howl rose from inside the cell—a sound that vibrated through his bones and left ice crystals forming on his eyelashes.

"What happened in there?" Eleanor whispered as they walked rapidly down the corridor. "The monitors went crazy. Your vitals, her vitals—both spiking simultaneously."

Liam ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. "Fascinating specimen," he managed, slipping back into his academic mask. "Definitely worth further study. I'll need to review the data and formulate a more structured approach."

Eleanor stopped walking, grabbing his arm. "Cut the bullshit, Liam. I saw how you looked at her. How she looked at you. That wasn't 'specimen and researcher.' That was... something else."

"Don't be ridiculous." He pulled away, his voice sharper than intended. "I need rest. It's been a long day."

Eleanor's eyes narrowed, but she nodded slowly. "Your guest quarters are in B wing. I'll have dinner sent up."

"And access to my case? I need to review the—"

"Already loaded on the terminal in your room. Restricted network, of course."

Of course. This place took no chances.

The guest quarters were predictably sterile—a bed, desk, attached bathroom, and a terminal that glowed with silent invitation. No windows. Three visible cameras and probably more he couldn't see. Liam sat heavily on the edge of the bed, hands shaking slightly as the adrenaline ebbed.

Mine.

He shoved the word away, buried it under layers of scientific detachment. This was impossible. The mate-bond happened once in a lifetime—a biological, mystical connection that transformed two wolves into something greater than the sum of their parts. Victoria had been his mate. His only mate. The mother of his unborn child. To even consider another was...

"A betrayal," he whispered to the empty room.

Yet his wolf disagreed. His wolf—that primal part of himself he'd locked away after Victoria's death—was now fully awake and intent on one thing: the silver-eyed direwolf who smelled of winter storms and ancient power.

Liam reached into his travel bag, fingers finding the hidden compartment that contained his emergency kit. The suppressor was military-grade, developed for werewolves in government service who needed to function in high-stress situations without shifting. Technically illegal for civilians, but his underground contacts had connections.

The auto-injector pressed against his thigh with a familiar sting. Almost immediately, a wave of nausea hit him, followed by a burning sensation that raced along his veins like liquid fire. He'd never had such a violent reaction before. His vision blurred as he collapsed backward onto the bed, breath coming in ragged gasps.

"s**t," he panted, curling into himself as his muscles spasmed. This wasn't right. The suppressor usually just dampened his wolf, muted the instincts to manageable whispers. This felt like his wolf was fighting back with desperate fury.

Darkness crawled at the edges of his consciousness. He tried to reach for his phone, to call for help, but his limbs wouldn't cooperate. The last thing he saw before blackness claimed him was a crystalline pattern of frost forming on the ceiling above his bed—impossible, since he was alone and the room was warm.

Yet there it was. A direwolf's mark.

---

Snow fell silently through ancient pines, each flake larger than a hand. The world existed in shades of blue and silver, the moon casting enough light to turn night into mysterious twilight.

Akira ran in her massive direwolf form, silver-tipped fur gleaming like polished metal. Four times the size of a normal wolf, she moved with impossible grace through drifts that would have swallowed lesser creatures. Around her, smaller wolves—her pack—followed with joyful yips and playful leaps.

The dream shifted. Blood on snow. Human hunters with silver weapons. Screams. The pack scattered, desperately trying to escape the ambush.

A young female—smaller, her frost abilities just beginning to manifest—fell behind. Akira turned back, throwing herself between the hunters and the youngster. Frost exploded outward from her massive form, freezing three humans solid in their tracks.

But more came. Always more.

The dream fractured again. A sterile room. Pain. Humans in white coats with cold eyes. Needles. Scalpels. Silver restraints that burned like fire. Akira thrashing against the table, howling as they took something precious from her body.

"Viable eggs retrieved. Proceed with fertilization protocol."

Darkness. Grief. A name whispered in the black void between consciousness and death.

Kova.

---

Liam jerked awake, gasping for air. His sheets were soaked with sweat, twisted around his legs like restraints. The room's digital clock showed 3:17 AM. He'd been unconscious for over twelve hours.

The dream clung to him like cobwebs, too vivid to be imagination, too detailed to be fantasy. He'd seen through Akira's eyes, felt her pain as if it were his own. The mate-bond, already forming despite his resistance, creating connections his conscious mind rejected but his sleeping self couldn't escape.

He sat up slowly, expecting pain, but the suppressor's violent effects seemed to have passed. His wolf remained present though—subdued but watchful, waiting. The familiar emptiness that had been his constant companion for eight years was gone, replaced by an uncomfortable awareness of his own divided nature.

Liam stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. The mirror reflected a stranger—eyes touched with gold flecks that wouldn't fade, cheekbones sharper than before, stance subtly different. His wolf was closer to the surface than it had been in years.

"Get it together," he muttered to his reflection.

But the memories came anyway. Not the dream of Akira this time, but his own past.

Liam had been the middle child—scholarly, quiet, more interested in books than pack politics. His older brother Lukan had been groomed for leadership since birth, the perfect Alpha-in-waiting with his imposing presence and natural authority. Their younger brother Landon had been free to be the pack's social butterfly, making connections and smoothing ruffled feelings with his easy charm.

And Liam? Liam had been permitted to pursue his academic interests, to explore the human world while maintaining just enough pack connection to satisfy tradition. He'd been happy with that role, finding purpose in bridging worlds through knowledge.

Then came the hunting accident. A silver bullet meant for a deer somehow finding Lukan's heart instead. The official report called it a tragic mishap. The pack whispered of assassination.

Either way, Liam had found himself suddenly, unwillingly thrust into leadership. An Alpha who'd never wanted the role, who'd never been trained for it, whose scholarly interests were abruptly deemed "distractions" from his new responsibilities.

Victoria had been his salvation. An Omega from a neighboring pack whose intelligence and quiet strength had matched his own. Their mating had been swift, intense, transforming both of them. For two brief, beautiful years, he'd found balance—leading the pack with Victoria by his side, incorporated his research into pack decisions, found purpose in protecting his people.

Then the ambush. Vampires attacking during a sacred ceremony, targeting him specifically. Victoria and their unborn son dying in his arms, her last request impossible to fulfill but impossible to forget: "Protect them. Not just our pack. All of them."

After her death, he couldn't bear it—the sympathetic glances, the pack bonds that echoed with grief, the hollow space in the bed they'd shared. He'd abdicated to Landon and fled to the human world, burying himself in academia and cutting all pack ties except for occasional, impersonal check-ins to ensure they were safe.

Eight years of carefully constructed isolation, dismantled in seconds by a pair of silver eyes and the word mine.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Liam tensed, scanning for potential weapons out of long habit.

"Dr. Blackwood?" Eleanor's voice, barely audible. "Are you awake?"

He cracked the door open, keeping his body positioned to block entry if necessary. "It's 3:30 in the morning."

"I know." She glanced nervously down the corridor. "Security shift change. Cameras loop for exactly seventy-eight seconds. We need to talk."

The urgency in her voice convinced him. He stepped back, allowing her to slip into the room.

"You didn't come to dinner. I was worried." Her eyes widened as she got a better look at him. "You look terrible. What happened?"

"Migraine," he lied smoothly. "Happens sometimes when I travel."

Eleanor didn't look convinced. "Listen, we don't have much time. I need to know if you're going to help her."

"Help who?" Playing dumb seemed safest until he understood Eleanor's angle.

She rolled her eyes. "The Easter Bunny. Who do you think? The direwolf."

"Help her how, exactly?"

"Get her out of here. Before they transfer her to the main facility. A black site location."

Liam stared at her, genuinely shocked. "You want me to help your research subject escape? You called me here for that?"

Eleanor's shoulders sagged. "I called you because of your published papers on ethical treatment of non-classified Otherkind species. Because your research suggested someone who might see her as more than a test subject. And then when I saw how you reacted to each other..." She hesitated. "There's something between you two. Something I don't understand but can sense."

Liam remained silent, processing this unexpected development.

"They're moving her in three days," Eleanor continued, voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "To northern Alaska. The kind of place things go in but don't come out. I've seen what they do there, Liam. I've seen the 'specimens' afterward." Her voice cracked slightly. "She doesn't deserve that."

"Why do you care?" Liam asked carefully. "She's not human."

"Neither are you." The words hung between them like a physical presence. "Not entirely, anyway. I don't know what you are, but I know you're something more than human. I've always known."

"Otherkind sensitivity," Liam murmured. It made sense—Eleanor's ability to detect subtle energy shifts would make her particularly attuned to supernatural presences.

She nodded. "My grandmother had it too. That's why I went into this field. To understand. But what they're doing here... it's wrong."

"You realize what you're suggesting is treason? Helping an unclassified Otherkind escape government custody?"

"I know." Her face was pale but determined. "But I've seen too much to stay silent anymore. They're already preparing a nursery unit for when they retrieve her offspring. A child, Liam. They're going to experiment on a child."

Kova. Akira's son. The cub she'd never even seen, created from her stolen eggs. Something fierce and protective surged through Liam, his wolf growling at the thought of a helpless pup in the hands of government scientists.

"You don't have to decide now," Eleanor said, moving toward the door. "But soon. Camera loop's almost done. Watch the security schedules I loaded on your terminal. My access card works on the east wing service elevator. If you decide to help... that's where I'd start."

She slipped out as quietly as she'd entered, leaving Liam alone with his thoughts. He moved to the terminal, clicking through files until he found what Eleanor mentioned—detailed security protocols, shift changes, access codes. Everything someone would need to orchestrate an escape.

His finger hovered over the delete button. The smart play was to erase these files, report Eleanor's treasonous suggestion, maintain his carefully constructed human life. Forget about silver eyes and ancient powers and stolen cubs.

Forget the word mine that still echoed in his blood.

But Victoria's final request whispered through his memory: Protect them. Not just our pack. All of them.

He'd failed that promise once. Left his pack, abandoned his responsibility to Otherkind. Buried himself in human academia while his kind suffered under increasingly restrictive regulations.

Could he fail again?

Liam closed the security files without deleting them. Then he opened Akira's case file, studying every detail with new determination. If he was going to do this—commit treason, risk everything, help a direwolf escape a government facility—he needed a plan. A good one.

And he needed to accept a truth his wolf already knew: the silver-eyed woman who smelled of winter and ancient magic was his second chance—at connection, at purpose, at keeping the promise he'd made eight years ago.

Whether he wanted it or not.