THE WOLF KING'S RUIN

Chapter 1 I'd been running for three days straight, living off stolen scraps and whatever water I could find in half-frozen streams. My wolf had gone silent after the first day—not dead, just... done with me. I couldn't blame her. Freedom was supposed to feel different than this. My legs gave out somewhere between the pine trees and the clearing. One second I was moving, the next I was face-down in the snow, tasting blood and earth. My body had finally called my bluff. I'd pushed through exhaustion, infection from the silver burns on my wrists, and the constant ache of rejection that sat in my chest like a stone. But there's only so far spite can carry you. I heard footsteps—multiple sets. Crunching above the snow, heavy and near. "Is she dead?" A male voice asked uncertainly. "Not yet." I recognized this voice. Everyone knew it. Alpha King Marcus Thorne had a voice like gravel, a husky and commanding voice that made other Alphas lower their heads and pride. "Get back to the border patrol. All of you." "But Alpha—" "Now." The footsteps retreated. I tried to lift my head, wanted to show I wasn't completely pathetic, but my body had stopped taking orders. Through the blur of my vision, I saw a pair of expensive boots stop in front of me. It was Hand-stitched leather, the kind my father used to import before I killed my mother and he decided I wasn't his daughter anymore. "You're on my land." His voice didn't sound angry and that made it somehow worse. "This is the third time this month someone's dumped an unwanted pack member at my borders. Do they think I run a charity?" I managed to turn my head enough to see him. The Alpha King looked exactly like the stories said—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell across his forehead and eyes that shifted between human and wolf gold. He should be thirty maybe, older. It was hard to tell with powerful wolves. They aged differently. "I wasn't dumped," I croaked. "I chose this." His eyebrow lifted. "You chose to collapse at my feet?" "I chose to run." Each word made my throat burn with ache. "They can't... touch me here." "No, they can't." He crouched down, close enough that I could smell him—pine and smoke and something else, something that made my dead-silent wolf suddenly snap to attention. "But that doesn't mean you're safe. I don't keep strays." My wolf did something she hadn't done in ten years. She pushed against my consciousness, alert and focused in a way that made my breath catch. Inside my head, she was staring at him like he was the first thing she'd seen in a decade of darkness. His eyes flashed gold. Stayed gold. His nostrils flared. "No," he said, but it sounded like he was talking to himself. He stood up fast, putting distance between us. "No. Absolutely not." "What?" I managed to prop myself up on one elbow, which was probably the most dignity I could manage while lying in the snow like a pest. He was staring at me as if I'd personally offended him. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping. "Who are you?" "I'm…..nobody." It was true. I'd been nobody for a long time. "Just let me stay on your land until I can move again. Just for a few hours. Then I'll go." "Your name?" He asked and something mething in his tone made me answer. Alpha command, probably, though it felt different than when other Alphas tried it. "Vera. Vera Ashwood. Former Vera Ashwood. That family doesn't claim me anymore. I no longer belong with them." His expression changed from recognition to something colder. "Ashwood. The Omega who killed her own mother." There it was. Bad news traveled far, but this has gone beyond, like wildfire. "It was in self-defense, but no one cares about that part. It's useless" "And the Alpha who rejected you—Evan Cross—he's been looking for you." "It's not because he wants me back." I tried to laugh but it came out as a cough. "He wants to make sure I stay gone. Preferably permanently." Marcus was quiet for a long moment, still watching me with those gold eyes. His wolf was as present as mine now, both of them focused on something neither of us wanted to acknowledge. "Get up," he finally said. "I….can't." "Then I'll carry you." He didn't sound happy about it. "But if I do, you're coming with me. And you're not leaving until I say so." "Why would you—" He cut me off. "Because apparently fate has a sense of humor. And because you're about to pass out again, and I'm not leaving an injured wolf in the snow, no matter how complicated this is about to get." My vision was blurring at its fullest. He was right about passing out. "Complicated how?" But I didn't hear his answer. The world tilted sideways, and the last thing I felt was someone catching me before I hit the ground.