Owned by the Enemy

The Past. To: Dominic the Brave Today I saved a caterpillar from drowning in a puddle, and I thought of you. Because you once saved a whole bird (Mum said) and that’s much braver than a caterpillar, but I think you'd still be proud of me. I wrapped it in a leaf and told it everything would be okay. Anyway, I hope you're not too busy being a hero or slaying monsters. If you are, that’s ok, I’m not mad. But if you ever need a Princess to save, I am available Tuesdays and Thursdays after school but NOT Fridays because that’s chicken nugget night and I love chicken nuggets. Yours in bravery,Princess Astrid (P.S. I think I love you already but don’t tell my Mum.) Dominic The woods are alive tonight. Full moon rising. Wolves shifting. The pulse of pack magic thrums like a second heartbeat through the earth. Thick. Charged. Ancient. But I’m not here for the celebration. I’m here for her. Nicholas Stone’s pack has always been tight-knit. Reclusive. The kind that doesn’t take kindly to outsiders. But when I sent word requesting an alliance—trade negotiations, a potential merger of power—they opened their gates like I was a f*****g diplomat. Idiots. They probably think I want timber rights or territory lines. What I want... is Astrid. Her life is mine. Always has been. She just doesn’t know it yet. When her parents died, it was Nicholas—her older brother—who took custody. Who raised her like she was his own. Who now stands between me and the girl I came to collect. Which is why I showed up here with charm, diplomacy, and that smooth-talking Alpha mask I wear so well. But the second I stepped into this forest, shifted under the full moon, and caught her scent? Everything inside me broke loose. My wolf lost his fu*k*ng mind. There’s no room for politics now. No reason for pretending. Not when my instincts are clawing for her. Not when my whole damn body is humming with need. I track her from the edge of the clearing. Downwind so she can’t catch my scent. Her wolf doesn’t detect me—not yet. She’s probably too naive, too enchanted by the run and the moonlight and the illusion of safety. But mine? My wolf is fully awake. Locked on. Obsessed. Every leap she takes, every graceful bound through the trees—it’s like she’s dancing through my bloodstream. Mine. My wolf snarls. And that’s the thing. She’s no longer something I have to negotiate for. She’s my mate. Fated. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. By pack law, mate law—she belongs to me now. And Nicholas? There’s not a damn thing he can do about it. I shift back just before the others do, naked and steaming under the cold night air. I take my time pulling on clothes, watching from the shadows as she steps into the clearing. Barefoot. Laughing. Moonlight pouring over her like liquid silver. Her hair—deep red and wild, tumbling down her back like it was spun from fire. I hate it. And I want to wrap it around my fist while I ruin her. She’s glowing. Soft, untouched. A lightness in her that makes my jaw clench. She’s naked, but I don’t let my gaze wander—not yet. Because she’s the enemy. Because this whole world she lives in—so pure, so unscarred—it was meant to be mine. And instead, I got left in the dark. I step out of the trees, fully dressed, every inch of me carved from calm. But under the surface? I’m coiled steel and gasoline. Nicholas spots me first. “Alpha Dom,” he greets. “I trust the run agreed with you?” I lift my gaze and lock it on the girl beside him. “I’ve smelled something... intriguing.” Nicholas follows my stare. His expression shifts. Protective. Too late. “My sister. Astrid.” I already knew her name. Of course I did. But hearing it from him—hearing it spoken like she belongs in this perfect little world of his—twists the blade inside me. She turns. Green eyes. Wide. Bright. Curious. And in that instant—everything stops. Time. Breath. Logic. The wind shifts, and her scent from this close hits me full-force—jasmine and apple. I swear to the fu*k*ng stars, I almost hit the dirt. Her. This woman. This thief. Turns out, she’s my mate. The Moon Goddess must be laughing her divine ass off. There’s no doubting Astrid is beautiful. Slender and lithe, with a feline grace that makes my wolf want to roll at her feet like a damn pup. There’s mischief in the curve of her mouth. Fire in those sharp green eyes. My wolf is growling in my chest. He doesn’t want revenge. He wants to mark her. Claim her. Sink his teeth into her and make her ours. Too bad. I don’t. I step forward, smooth as sin, voice laced with something close to mockery. “Astrid, is it?” I let her name drag out over my tongue, tasting it. “I believe you’ll be coming with me—” She blinks, startled, glancing between me and her brother. I smile—slow and smug. “—my little mate.”