The forest felt different the next morning.
Not just in light—the shadows seemed longer, deeper, almost deliberate—but in the way my own skin prickled whenever I moved. Every branch that cracked beneath my boots, every leaf that fluttered in the wind, set my nerves on edge.
And yet… I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Kael.
The Alpha.
His presence lingered in my mind, even though I had no right to it. I didn’t even know him—at least, not properly—but every detail about him was impossible to forget. The strength in his stance. The sharp, commanding intensity of his gaze. The way he seemed to see right through me.
I shook my head and tried to focus on my research. Birds, small mammals, anything that could give me data for my study. I told myself firmly: He’s a distraction. Nothing more. Focus.
But the moment I stepped onto the trail leading deeper into the forest, I felt it again—a weight at the edge of my awareness, a presence watching me.
I froze, heart hammering.
Not again, I thought, my mind racing. It can’t be him this time… can it?
And yet, instinct warned me. My body tensed. My every nerve screamed to turn around and leave. But curiosity, that reckless trait I couldn’t seem to abandon, pushed me forward.
“Focus,” I whispered to myself. “Focus on the birds. The study. The research.”
The wind shifted, carrying a scent I couldn’t identify at first—earthy, metallic, and sharp. My pulse jumped. I realized I had been holding my breath.
I took a careful step forward.
Then I heard it: a rustle in the underbrush, quiet, deliberate. Not an animal. Too precise. Too aware.
I froze again, scanning the trees, trying to locate the source.
And then I saw him.
Kael.
He was perched on a low branch, almost invisible against the dark bark, watching me. My stomach knotted. How does he move like that? Like he’s part of the forest itself?
Before I could even speak, he landed softly on the ground, no sound from the fall, and stood there—tall, imposing, impossibly present.
“Why are you here?” he asked. Not a question, but a command disguised as one.
I swallowed. “I—uh—I’m studying wildlife. I’m—”
“Don’t lie to me,” he said, cutting me off. His eyes narrowed, and a shiver ran down my spine. “I can tell.”
Can tell what? I thought frantically. But the words caught in my throat.
“I’m… not sure what you mean,” I said finally, trying to sound calm.
Kael stepped closer, and the forest seemed to shrink around him, the trees bending into shadow like they were giving him space. My breath caught in my throat. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my body froze.
“You’re reckless,” he said, voice low and smooth, vibrating against my chest. “Curious. Dangerous.”
“I—what?” I stammered.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” he said, eyes flicking toward the dense thicket beyond the trail. “And you’re lucky I was here to keep you alive.”
I blinked, heart racing. Alive?
“What do you mean?” I asked, though part of me already knew. There was something about him—something primal—that spoke to the part of me that always noticed danger before it arrived.
Kael’s gaze hardened. “The forest isn’t kind to those who don’t belong.”
I shivered, the weight of his words pressing down on me. Does he mean me? Or the forest itself?
Then he stepped back, almost casually, but his eyes never left mine. “I’ve been watching you since yesterday,” he admitted. “I know more about you than you realize.”
My stomach flipped. Watching me? Panic flared, but alongside it, a strange thrill pulsed through me—an undeniable pull I couldn’t resist.
“Why?” I whispered.
Kael’s expression softened slightly. “Because you’re here. And being here… changes things.”
I swallowed hard. “Changes things how?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the trees, alert, calculating. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Something moved in the shadows. I could feel it—predatory, tense, dangerous.
Kael’s muscles tensed. “You should leave,” he said, voice firm. “Now.”
“I… I can’t,” I admitted, my own curiosity winning over fear. “I need to finish my research.”
He studied me for a long moment, and I could see the struggle in his eyes—the alpha instinct to protect, the dominance, the raw power barely restrained.
Finally, he said, “Fine. But you stay on the path. You don’t wander off again.”
“I—yes,” I said quickly, relieved to have some kind of guidance, even if it was intimidating.
We walked in silence for a while. His presence beside me was suffocating and exhilarating all at once. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig seemed amplified. My senses were on fire, alert, heightened in a way I had never experienced before.
Then a low growl echoed through the trees. I froze, heart hammering. Kael’s head snapped toward the sound, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered, and without warning, he moved into the shadows with incredible speed. One moment he was beside me; the next, he had vanished.
A flash of movement, a blur of fur and muscle, and then he was back, standing between me and whatever had been in the forest. I couldn’t even tell what it was, but the tension in his stance told me it had been dangerous.
“It’s nothing,” he said, voice calm but carrying the edge of menace. “For now.”
I swallowed, trying to steady my shaking hands. “I… thank you,” I said softly.
Kael’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “Don’t thank me yet. Surviving here is a choice. You need to be aware of what’s around you. Everything wants to take advantage of weakness.”
I nodded, feeling the truth of his words deep in my bones. Everything wants to take advantage of weakness… and I’m not ready for this world.
But a part of me—a part I couldn’t ignore—thrilled at it. The danger, the unknown, the pull toward him.
“You’re… different,” I whispered, almost to myself.
Kael’s head snapped toward me. “Different?”
“Yes,” I said, heart racing. “You’re… not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, eyes glinting with a strange, predatory curiosity. “Neither are you.”
I wanted to run. I wanted to turn back and leave this forest, this Alpha, this danger behind. But I couldn’t. My feet refused to move. My mind refused to focus on anything else.
Something in me knew—whatever this was, it wasn’t over.
And the pull between us, magnetic and terrifying, was only beginning.