Claimed By The Crescent Rivals

The Forest Has Eyes

The rain hit like it had a personal grudge. It drove through the canopy of Blackwood in sheets, stinging my face, blurring everything into streaks of black and green. The ground under my bare feet had turned to slick mud that tried to swallow every step.

I couldn’t slow down.

Behind me the forest shook with the weight of three huge wolves tearing through the underbrush. The howls had stopped. What replaced them was worse—the heavy, rhythmic thud of paws hitting wet earth and the sharp crack of branches snapping under bodies that shouldn’t move that fast.

They were gaining.

Left. Go left. My wolf’s voice cut through the panic, frantic and raw. After ten years of silence she was fully awake, and she was terrified of the pull dragging us back toward the things hunting us.

I cut hard left, vaulting a rotting log. Bark snagged the hem of my oversized tunic and ripped it open. The silver pendant slapped against my bare chest. I grabbed it, breath tearing in and out of my lungs in short, painful bursts.

Then the air changed. A heavy scent of ozone and scorched wood cut through the rain.

Ronan.

He wasn’t running blind. ShadowStone wolves never did. A massive black shape exploded out of the thicket on my right and landed square in the path ahead of me, fur the color of wet charcoal, silver eyes locked on mine.

I skidded, heels digging deep into the mud.

He didn’t growl. Just stepped forward, slow and deliberate, the kind of calm that makes your skin crawl. Dominance rolled off him in waves.

Stop running, Aria. His voice slid into my mind through the forced pack-link only an Alpha could force open. You’ll only hurt yourself. Come to me and no one touches you.

I stumbled back. My heart hammered so hard it hurt. Going to him meant becoming a prize. A political piece locked in a high tower until it was useful.

I never got the chance to turn.

A roar ripped through the night, loud enough to make the trees shudder. From the slope above, a second wolf crashed down into the clearing—colossal, easily twice the size of a normal Alpha, fur the deep red of dried blood, a jagged scar cutting across his snout.

Killian.

He didn’t even glance at me. His focus was pure and murderous as he snapped massive fangs inches from Ronan’s face.

She is mine, Shadow! The mental blast hit like a physical blow. Step back or I take your head.

Ronan dropped lower, silver eyes flashing. A low growl vibrated in his chest. The two of them began to circle in the mud, auras clashing hard enough that the rain seemed to bend around them.

That was my opening.

I scrambled up the steep embankment to my left, clawing at roots and wet earth, not caring where I was going as long as it was away. Briars tore at my skin as I shoved through. Then the ground simply ended.

I stood on the edge of a jagged stone cliff. Far below, a swollen river hammered against the rocks, white and furious. Dead end.

I spun, looking for another way, and the bushes parted.

A third wolf stepped into the moonlight.

This one felt different. Fur a chaotic mix of golden-blonde and grey, amber eyes bright and unpredictable. No heavy arrogance. Just pure, unfiltered danger.

Jax.

He didn’t shift. Just looked at me standing on the edge, ears flattening as he took one slow step forward. Massive paws sank into the mud.

Careful, little bird. His voice in my head was low, husky, almost warm—and somehow more dangerous for it. That’s a long drop. And I haven’t even tasted you yet.

I pressed my back against the cold stone, the pendant burning against my skin. “Stay back,” I managed, voice shaking. “Don’t come near me.”

His head tilted. Those golden eyes dropped to the silver crescent hanging at my throat. His pupils blew wide. He knew exactly what the crest meant.

A dark, almost amused shift moved across his wolfish face.

A royal, he purred, taking another step, pinning me against the drop. No wonder those two old fools are tearing the forest apart for you. But you’re not going to them, Aria. You’re coming with the rogue.

Behind him the underbrush exploded.

Killian and Ronan burst into the clearing, fur matted with blood and mud from their short, vicious fight. The second they saw Jax closing in on me, both of them roared—loud enough to shake the whole ridge.

Three massive Alphas. Three different kinds of cage.

Jax lunged, jaws aimed for my waist. Killian and Ronan charged from the sides, claws out, ready to tear him off me.

I looked at the three monsters rushing me, then down at the churning black water far below.

I didn’t think.

I stepped backward off the edge and fell into the dark.