Bound by Blood and Fang

Chapter 2

Alora

The forest tore at my body as I plunged deeper into the dark, branches snapping against my exposed skin, roots grabbing at my feet like hands that wanted to drag me down and consume me just like the monster that was now hunting me. Cold air knifed its way into my lungs with every breath I took, each inhale scraping raw against my throat, causing it to burn. My heartbeat slammed so violently that it felt like it might crack my ribs from the inside, but I didn’t slow my pace.

Behind me, the clearing had already vanished—swallowed up whole by the dense forest. That's when the first screams shattered the night. High-pitched. Panicked. And entirely too close to me.

“Ignore the screams. It’s difficult, but you can’t let their pain distract you,” Mother had warned.

I flinched as the screams ricocheted through the forest, bouncing off the trees and boulders around me, but I kept running. My teeth gritted as another cry followed—and then another. Some were cut off abruptly as if their mouths had been covered to stifle their cries. Others dissolved into broken sobs, breathless gasps, and sounds that made my stomach churn even as something traitorous inside me twisted in response.

The potion was responding to them, to the sounds that were coming from all of them. Warmth bloomed low in my belly, the feeling sudden and overwhelming, and it was spreading through me like wildfire. My thighs clenched instinctively as my body betrayed me, the pulse pounding between my legs in a way that had nothing to do with the fear coursing through my veins.

I stumbled over a root that was sticking out of the ground a couple of inches, barely catching myself on the nearby tree trunk as the sensation in my body spiked—growing needy.

No.

No, no, no—

I forced myself to ignore the feeling and shoved myself forward again, letting anger cut through the haze of the potion as much as it could. But there wasn't all that much anger to begin with. This was what the potion was meant to do. Strip us down. Make us pliable during the hunt. Make us want what was coming.

Another sound echoed through the trees—this one softer. A moan that was drawn-out and breathless. A cursed groan follows right behind it, and my skin tingles.

Fighting my imagination was growing tiresome. Trying not to picture what was happening to her. To them, it was a lot harder with my own need pulsing through my veins. I couldn’t afford to get distracted. I needed to either find a way out of the forest or find somewhere to hide until sunrise. Though I wasn't sure if either option was actually going to be possible.

My calves burned as I pushed myself harder, my bare feet slipping on the frost-slick ground. The forest began to blur at the edges of my vision, as every sense was stretched too thin. I could still smell the damp earth, though it seemed heavier than before. Like I could pick out each particle beneath me if I tried hard enough.

And beneath it all, there was another scent that sent my brain and body buzzing.

Male.

Mixed with all the other scents of tonight, there was one that filled my lungs: pine and smoke. At first, I assumed that it was just the scent of the trees around me and the smoke from the fires in the clearing filtering through. But this one was different in the way it crashed into me. It was rich and warm, with that unmistakably predatory edge underneath.

My body reacted to its presence before my mind could even catch up, that need pulsing low and traitorous between my thighs, tightening every muscle inside of me in ways I despised. I slowed my pace just enough to listen to the forest. It was difficult with my heart slamming against my ribs, and I strained my hearing, listening for any sound that didn’t belong to me. The forest whispered back softly—its leaves shifting, branches creaking overhead, and the distant echo of another pursuit that might have been my imagination.

Or might not.

Did I miss something? Was I too careless and not paying enough attention to my surroundings while I ran?

Mother’s voice echoed in my head again, sharp and unforgiving. “The potion will make your senses dull. It will make you sloppy if you let it.”

I swallowed hard, forcing my focus inward to retrace everything that I had done since I entered the forest. I had been careful. I knew how to move through the woods. I had grown up near the edges of a dense forest similar to this one, though that one was not packed with monsters lurking around every fallen tree like tonight.

A branch snapped somewhere behind me. I spun around, my dagger already in my hand before I consciously decided to draw it. My breath was coming faster now as I let my eyes scan the darkness around me for the source of the sound. But there was nothing that I could see besides the trees and the underbrush.

Then the air changed.

A presence rolled through the forest. The night seemed to constrict around me as every instinct screamed at once for me to move, to run while I still had the chance. But it was already too late. A deep growl rumbled from the darkness right in front of me, not aggressive—but assessing. Like I was being measured.

My pulse stuttered in my chest as a massive shape detached itself from the trees ahead of me, moving with a confidence that made the forest itself seem to part around it. As the shadow emerged from the forest, moonlight spilling over the hard lines of a hard body. Catching on the faint sheen of sweat along a very masculine throat, before illuminating the ripple of muscle beneath his skin. Broad shoulders and a solid frame with dark hair that was cropped short, and a pair of eyes that burned so black even in the darkness as they locked onto mine.

Even the air felt different around him—it felt like it had been electrified by a bolt of lightning, as if the night recognized him as something that belonged to it.

Wolf.

The word rattled around in my head for several moments before the realization of what was standing before me. A very large werewolf.

He didn’t rush me like I thought he would. He just gave me a knowing smile as he tilted his head to the side like he already understood exactly what the potion was doing to my body, and he was merely waiting for the right time to strike.

“Found you,” he said, his voice rough and warm, the sound vibrating straight through me, making my toes curl in the damp earth.

And I knew—deep in my bones the moment that he spoke, that running was no longer an option. I was found. And if I wanted to make it out alive, I was going to have to fight for it. My body rejected the notion almost instantly, but I fought to keep control over my actions.

I didn’t scream or give him the satisfaction of a war cry. I just lunged.

Steel flashed in the minimal light as I drove the dagger forward, aiming for his throat with everything that I had. The wolf moved impossibly fast, but not fast enough to avoid the sting of my attack entirely. The end of my blade kissed his skin as he moved out of the way, drawing a sharp line of blood at the base of his throat before his hand snapped around my wrist.

Pain exploded up my arm as his grip tightened, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out.

“Easy,” he rumbled, sounding more amused than angry that I had just tried to slice him open. “You’ll cut yourself rushing in like that. You have to wait for the right moment to strike.” He leans in a little like he wants to scent the side of my neck. "Otherwise you'll find yourself in this predicament."

“Let go of me,” I hissed, yanking against his grip in a vain attempt to free myself, but it was pointless.

His fingers tightened around my wrist instead, like iron shackles. “Or what?” His eyes flicked to the dagger, then back to my face. “You think that little thing’s enough to stop me?”

I bared my teeth at him rather stupidly. But I didn't stop to think about the words I was saying. I was in a fight for my life. “I think it’s enough to make you bleed.”

The look that crosses his face is dark and pleased, like he had been hoping that I would fight back against him a little bit more. He shoved me back away from him—not enough to injure me, but just enough to remind me of how easily he could. I stumbled as my feet skidded across the slippery ground, the cold biting through my soles as I fought for my balance. I recovered fast, my minimal training kicking in before panic could fully take over. I dropped my weight and pivoted hard, letting the momentum carry my blade low in a sweeping arc, the point slicing towards his thigh. Missed.

Every movement now felt too slow, my senses dulled more and more by the potion. He laughed when I tried again, that strike also falling short of its target. The sound rolled through the forest, deep and rough, and vibrating through my bones as he dodged and grabbed a fistful of my dress, tearing the fabric with a sharp rip, and cold air hit my overly warm skin.

“Alright, princess, what now?” he taunts when he yanks me back into his grasp, pressing my body flush against his.

My rage burned hotter, and I twisted, driving my knee up between his legs with every ounce of strength I had. The impact made him grunt, and his grip loosened just enough, and I tore free from his grasp.

“Feisty,” he said, his black eyes gleaming as he rose to his full height. “I like that.”

"Too bad, I don't care what you like," I snapped, slashing with the dagger again.

This time, instead of him dodging the blade, he caught it barehanded. Blood welled instantly as the sharp edge sliced into his palm, dark against his tan skin—but he didn’t even flinch at the pain. Didn’t even act as if the sight bothered him one bit. My stomach dropped to the bottom of my stomach as I watched the blood slowly drip from the dagger's edge to the forest floor below.

He leaned closer, his voice low, intimate as his breath brushed against my flesh. “You don’t run like the others.”

“Because I’m not like them,” I snarled in return, trying to pull my dagger from his bleeding hand.

My mother had warned me. She spent months preparing for the day that I would be forced to take part in this barbaric ritual. I would not let her down now. I would fight until I had nothing left to give.

“Clearly, the others don't dare to fight,” he whispered. "But you, princess..."

Something in the air shifted, and his gaze sharpened, his nostrils flaring as if he caught a scent he hadn’t noticed before. His already darkened gaze blew wider, the blackness overtaking every ounce of white that was still in his eyes as his wolf pressed in closer to the surface. The potion must have decided that this was the moment to surge violently, spiking so hard that my knees trembled—but I refused to fall in front of him.

His body moved, forcing me backward until I tripped over a boulder sticking out of the ground. I rolled out of the way, barely avoiding his grasp when he attempted to help me up. I push up hard on my feet and throw dirt straight into his eyes. He cursed while swiping blindly to remove the particle of dirt from his eyes as I dove between his legs and came up behind him.

I didn’t hesitate, and I slammed the hilt of the dagger into the base of his skull with everything I had in me.

Once.

Twice.

Fates, why is he so tall?

The third strike landed solidly, and he went down with a startled growl, one knee hitting the ground as his hands braced against the dirt. I didn’t wait to see if it was enough to take him out for very long; I just turned and ran.

My lungs seized from having to run once again, dragging in air that felt like I was breathing in shards of ice. Every muscle in my body trembled with exertion and leftover adrenaline. Yet, the potion is still burning hot just beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.

More branches whipped past me, leaving more scratches along my skin as the forest blurred into streaks of black and silver. But even as I put as much distance as I could between us, I still felt him there—like a pressure on my back, a promise in the dark, a presence my body couldn’t forget.

Behind me, I heard him coming for me—heard the heavy thud of his footfalls hitting the ground again, then a low, impressed chuckle that sent a chill down my spine.

“Running doesn't matter, princess,” his voice called after me, dark and full of promise. “I’ll hunt you down and enjoy catching you.”