How to Tame an Alpha Wolf

The wind howled like a beast through the trees, rattling the skeleton branches above my head as I ran. My legs burned. My lungs screamed. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Because if they caught me, I was as good as dead. Blood dripped from the gash across my thigh, warm against the freezing wind as I crashed through thorns and undergrowth, deeper into the forest that bordered no-man’s land. The place no sane wolf entered. Not without a death wish. But I wasn’t sane. Not anymore. I hadn’t been since the night they threw me into the pit and told me to shift—or die. I hadn’t been sane since I realized I was the omega they were willing to bury to keep their secret buried with me. The trees blurred as I stumbled forward, heart thudding like a war drum. My wolf itched beneath my skin, begging to come out, but I couldn’t shift—not yet. Not when every ounce of my strength was focused on staying alive. Not when I knew what land I was crossing into. Blackthorn territory. The stories whispered around fires and inside safe dens warned pups of what lay beyond this forest. A pack led by a wolf with no mercy. No morals. No heart. Kael Blackthorn. An Alpha made of ice and bone. A killer. A king. And if the rumors were true, he didn’t take kindly to trespassers—especially not ones bleeding all over his land. My knees buckled as I stumbled over a fallen branch, crashing hard into the ground. Pain jolted through my hip, but I bit my tongue and dragged myself up. The scent of my own blood was thick in the air. I knew I was leaving a trail—might as well light a fire and scream come find me. I leaned against a tree, chest heaving, trying to gather the last threads of strength. Then I heard it. A low growl. Deep. Deadly. Close. I turned, slow and trembling. Glowing yellow eyes emerged from the shadows. A massive figure stepped between the trees, muscles shifting beneath dark fur, moonlight sliding like a blade across his face. A wolf. No— the wolf. Kael Blackthorn. He shifted mid-step, and I almost gasped. Bones cracked. Fur disappeared. And in his place stood a man. Tall. Broad. Naked, but unaffected by the cold or the shame of being seen. His body was carved in sinew and shadows, his jaw sharp, his hair blacker than the forest behind him. And his eyes—those burning yellow eyes—never left mine. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. His voice was low and brutal. “You’re bleeding on my land.” I swallowed. “I didn’t mean to—” He crossed the space between us in two strides, grabbing me by the throat—not tight enough to choke, but firm enough to remind me who held power here. “You think I give a damn what you meant?” His touch burned, but not from pain. From something else. Something terrifying. A spark flared deep in my chest, where the bond mark would sit—if fate had chosen for me to have a mate. It pulsed. Once. Then again. No. No, no, no. “You’re… you’re Alpha Blackthorn,” I whispered. “And you’re a fool,” he growled, his nose skimming my neck. “A rogue. An omega.” His lips curled. “And yet… something about you stinks of fate.” I flinched. “Please, I’m not a threat—” He inhaled sharply, and his eyes went wide for just a second. His grip loosened. His fingers trembled. Then, softly—too softly—he said: “Mine.” My blood turned to ice. “What?” His eyes met mine, dark and wild. “You’re my mate.” The words struck like lightning. I reeled back, but he grabbed me by the waist, pulling me against him. My heart thrashed like a trapped bird. His scent wrapped around me—cedar, smoke, danger. This couldn’t be happening. Not him. Not now. “I don’t belong to anyone,” I rasped. “You do now.” I pushed against him. “Let me go.” He didn’t. “You’ve crossed into my land. You’re bleeding from a pack wound. You ran, which means you’re a runaway. Or worse.” His voice dipped, almost curious. “What did they do to you?” I clenched my jaw. “Nothing I haven’t survived.” His eyes flicked to my leg, where the blood still leaked. “Barely.” He swept me off my feet before I could argue, his arms like iron. I cried out, fists beating his chest, but it was like striking stone. “Put me down!” “No.” “Where are you taking me?” He began walking, back into the darkness from which he came. “Home.” I stilled. “You can’t just take me.” He looked down at me, expression unreadable. “I can. And I will.” Because you’re mine. And I take care of what’s mine.