The wrong side of the Woods
Maya was having a very bad day. It started with her car breaking down in the middle of a forest that definitely wasn't on Google Maps, and it was currently peaking with the fact that a giant, fluffy, and strangely handsome wolf was staring at her like she was a gourmet steak.
"Nice doggy," Maya whispered, clutching her floral print suitcase. "I have granola bars. Are you a fan of oats and honey?"
The wolf tilted its head. It was massive—easily the size of a small pony—with fur the color of midnight and eyes like molten gold. It didn't growl. Instead, it let out a sound that almost sounded like a huff of laughter.
Maya took a step back, tripping over a tree root. As she fell, she expected the cold ground. Instead, she felt a pair of strong, very human arms catch her. She blinked, looking up. The giant wolf was gone. In its place stood a man who looked like he had been sculpted by a Greek god with a grudge against shirts.
"You're trespassing," the man said. His voice was deep, vibrating through Maya’s very bones.
"I'm lost!" Maya squeaked, trying to ignore the fact that he was wearing nothing but tattered denim shorts. "My GPS told me to turn left at the 'Ominous Oak,' and now I’m here."
The man leaned in, sniffing the air near her neck. Maya froze. Was he checking for perfume? Or seasoning?
"You smell like... lavender and panic," he muttered. He looked toward the darkening horizon, his expression turning grim. "The moon is rising. You can’t stay out here. The others won't be as 'polite' as I am."
"Others? You mean there are more shirtless forest models?"
He didn't laugh. He grabbed her hand, his skin unnaturally warm. "Run, Maya. If they catch your scent while the change is happening, I won't be able to protect you."
Just as they reached the edge of a hidden clearing filled with stone cottages, a piercing howl ripped through the air. It wasn't one wolf. It was dozens. From the shadows, pairs of glowing red eyes began to emerge, encircling them.
The man’s grip tightened. His fingernails began to sharpen into claws, and his gold eyes flared with light.
"Stay behind me," he growled, his voice shifting into something beastly. "And whatever you do, don't look at their Alpha."
Maya looked anyway. Standing on a high rock was a wolf even bigger than her savior, with silver fur and a jagged scar across its muzzle. The silver wolf locked eyes with her and let out a low, terrifying snarl. But it wasn't a snarl of hunger. It was a snarl of recognition.
The silver wolf leaped from the rock, transforming mid-air into a tall, imposing man with silver hair. He landed gracefully and walked straight toward Maya. The crowd of wolves parted in total silence.
He stopped inches from her, his gaze intense enough to set her on fire. He didn't attack. Instead, he dropped to one knee and took her trembling hand.
"My Queen," the Silver Alpha whispered. "You're late."
Maya's jaw dropped. She had never seen this man in her life, but her heart was suddenly beating a rhythm she didn't recognize—a rhythm that matched his.
"I think you have the wrong person," Maya stammered. "I work in accounting!"
The Silver Alpha smiled, revealing sharp canines. "The prophecy doesn't care about your spreadsheets, Maya. But we have a problem."
He pointed behind her, where the first man—the one who had saved her—was now growling at the Alpha.
"He thinks you belong to him," the Alpha said, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "And in this pack, we only have one way to settle a tie."
