Chapter Four
939 Words
Seraya
Pain shot through her ribs as the werewolf slammed into her and knocked her to the forest floor.
She hit the ground hard. Her shoulder hit first, then the air was crushed from her lungs. She tasted dirt and blood in her mouth. For a moment, all she could feel was her racing pulse and the claws digging into her arms, holding her down.
A snarl sounded close to her ear. Low and rough.
Panic hit her like fire in her chest. She thrashed beneath the weight, but it was like trying to move a wall made of muscle and fur. The wolf growled again, teeth bared just inches from her face. Its golden eyes stared straight into hers.
No. Not here. Not like this.
Her body moved before her mind could think. She drove her knee into the wolf’s belly, just enough to throw it off balance. It snarled and pulled back. She rolled away fast and grabbed a thick branch. She swung it hard. It hit the wolf’s side with a dull c***k.
It made the wolf stumble, but it didn’t fall.
It was huge after all. Bigger than any wolf she had ever seen. Its dark grey fur was streaked with black. The way it moved was too careful. Too smart. This wasn’t just a wild hunter.
It was something worse.
Now it circled her, slow and steady. With its ears pinned, and teeth bared. She held the branch like a spear, though she knew it wouldn’t help.
Then it charged again. She saw it coming, but she wasn’t fast enough.
The wolf hit her with full force. Its weight crushed her into the ground. The fur was wet—maybe from sweat, maybe from rain. Its breath was hot on her face. Its eyes burned like fire.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t shift in time. If she tried, it would tear her apart before she changed.
Her heart pounded. This was it. No more escapes. No more luck.
Then the wolf stopped.
Its growl broke.
She felt it before she understood it. There was a tug deep in her chest, sudden and terrifying. Like something ancient was waking up inside her. Oh, no. Was that a mating bond?
Beneath the Moonlight? No. Not now. Not like this. She can't be bonded to her enemy. No. No. No.
Why was the Moon goddess so cruel?
The wolf blinked once. Then again.
And then, without warning, it jerked back from her with a grunt. It jerked back almost as if it had been burned.
Seraya rolled away, coughing and clawing at the ground to put space between them. She scrambled to her feet, barefoot and bleeding from her arms, and turned. She was ready to flee if she had to.
But the wolf... wasn’t chasing her.
It was shifting.
Bones cracked. Limbs twisted. Fur pulled back into the skin. A man rose in front of her. He was tall, with scarred, broad shoulders. He wore only a leather strap across one shoulder, holding knives. His body was lean and powerful. His eyes were grey. Cold. Focused.
She knew those eyes. No. It couldn't be.
He stepped closer.
“You,” he said.
Seraya didn’t answer. Her throat felt tight. She was barely standing.
His gaze swept over her quickly. He was assessing her. “You’re the rogue from the port. The one who used magic.”
He had been tracking her the whole time. That was why the soldiers gave up. They had sent him instead.
“And you’re part of those that chased me into the trees,” she shot back. Her voice was unsteady, but she held eye contact. “Planning to drag me back to your Alpha in pieces?”
He didn’t answer.
But something passed between them again. A feeling. A pull. Like the air itself recognized them.
She hated the way it made her breath catch. Hated how calm he looked while she felt like she was falling apart.
She swallowed hard. “Since we're stating the obvious, you’re an Elite Enforcer.”
His eyes narrowed. “Alpha of the Elite Enforcers.”
The words hit like a stone.
Of course.
Of all the wolves in the realm, it had to be him.
Draven Thorne.
Alpha of the Crimson Howl. The one who ordered raids. The one who burned rogue camps. The one whose name filled every campfire story with fear.
And somehow, he was her mate.
He looked at her like he already knew.
“You didn’t have to blow my soldiers across the street,” he said. His voice was rough, low, steady.
Seraya’s lips curled. “And you didn’t have to hunt me.”
She hated how her voice shook.
His gaze flicked over her. He noticed her torn cloak, bare feet, the gash on her collarbone.
“You’re bleeding.”
She laughed, bitter and dry. “How observant.”
They stared at each other. Neither moved. The air between them pulled tight.
When he sniffed the air. His brow furrowed.
“You’re glowing,” he said to her.
Seraya looked down. Her hands glowed faintly. Not reflected moonlight. Real light. From within her skin.
Not now. Not again.
She backed away and fell. “Don’t come closer.”
He stepped forward.
“In the city,” he said. “Through the trees. I felt the bond. That’s how I found you.”
“I didn’t,” she said. But it was a lie.
Draven’s face darkened. “You’re lying.”
Far off in the woods, a wolf howled.
Then they both froze.
They weren’t alone anymore.
- Writer
