Beneath the Wolf's Veil

The Pull

Ravens POV

Later that night, Raven decided to go to the bar. She walks in greeted by some of her crew, Sandra, Jim, and Michel. They talk for a little while before Raven heads to the bar.

Jax's POV

The bar was loud — too loud. Laughter, pool cues cracking, a jukebox spilling old rock ballads. The stench of whiskey and motor oil clung to the walls, familiar as the leather on his back.

Jax Maddox leaned against the scarred wood counter, a cigarette burning low between his fingers. He'd been riding with the Iron Serpents for years, long enough to know when the night was going to turn bloody. And tonight... it felt off.

No, not just off. Diffrent.

It hit him the moment she walked in.

At first, he didn't even look directly—just caught the shadow of movement, the faint hum in the air that made his wolf Lucian snap to attention. The sound of boots on concrete. The leather jacket with an insignia he didn't recognize. The scent-God. The scent, warm honey and vanilla.

It was sharp and wild, but threaded with something that made his chest tighten. His wolf surged against his skin, snarling one word with bone-deep certainty.

Mate. Lucian said to Jax in a growl.

Jax crushed his cigarette into the ashtray, his jaw tight. He heard about bonds like this—unshakable, soul-deep — but he never thought it would happen to him. Not here, not like this.

She slid into the barstool two spaces down, ordering a glass of whiskey neat like she owned the room without trying. Dark black hair spilling down her shoulders, knuckles bruised and ray. She didn't even glance at him, but he couldn't take his eyes away.

"Careful," his brother-in-arms Stephan muttered beside me, following his gaze. "That's Raven Blackwood. Word is she's trouble. Runs with her own crew, The Night Howlers. And she doesn't answer anybody."

The name hit him like a punch. Blackwood. He knew that name — Alpha blood, dangerous and ruthless. She must be the daughter the alpha of Bloodmoon cast out. A rogue.

Lucian didn't care. He prowled beneath Jax's skin, demanding he moves closer, demanding to claim her where she stands.

He dragged in a steadying breath. This wasn't the time. Not yet. Whoever she was, she carried her own demons. He could see it in the way, her hands flexed, restless, like she was fighting something no one else could see.

But fate was cruel like that. She was his. Weather she wanted him or not.

And deep down, Jax knew the second her eyes finally met his across the smokey bar, nothing in either of their worlds would ever be the same.