Taming the Cold-Hearted Alpha

Chapter Sixteen: Hunted

The forest doesn’t sleep.

Even as dawn stains the sky a bloodshot grey, the wind carries whispers—footsteps not my own, breaths not belonging to the trees.

I’m being hunted.

Not by Kael.

Not yet.

But someone else.

Someone who waited for me to leave his side.

My feet are blistered. My hair, soaked. The cloak clings to me like regret. But I keep going—deeper into the woods, farther from the campfire scent of Kael's tent and the searing look in his eyes when I walked away.

I can’t stop hearing his voice.

"You are my war."

And I believed him.

Until the past showed up in my fist—cold, golden, and cruel.

A branch snaps behind me.

I spin, eyes wide, heart pounding.

A wolf steps out of the trees.

Not Kael.

Not Eastern.

His fur is black-brown, streaked with scars, eyes yellow like flame.

Rogue.

I back up slowly. But there are more now—two more wolves emerging from opposite sides.

Trapping me.

I curse under my breath, reaching for the dagger Kael made me carry.

Too late.

The first wolf shifts mid-lunge, landing in human form before me—naked, grinning, and bloodthirsty.

“Well, well,” he drawls, voice thick with lust and cruelty. “The Cold-Hearted Alpha’s pretty little Luna, all alone in the woods. You’re worth a dozen packs’ ransom.”

“I’m worth your death,” I spit.

He lunges.

I move.

Steel meets flesh.

But I’m not fast enough.

A claw rakes across my side—hot pain erupts as I stumble, gasping.

The world spins.

And then—

He hits the ground.

Hard.

With a snarl that doesn’t come from me.

A second wolf—massive, silver, eyes like lightning—crashes into him.

Blood flies.

The rogue screams.

And I see him—

Tobias.

Kael’s former Beta.

The one who vanished after Elira’s death. Branded a traitor. Presumed dead.

He shifts as the other two rogues flee.

His voice is rough gravel. “You always had bad timing.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” I hiss, blood soaking through my dress.

“Not yet.” He pulls me to my feet, eyes scanning the forest. “But if we don’t move, you will be.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“And I didn’t ask for your sass.”

I sway, dizzy.

He catches me.

And for a moment—just one—his voice softens.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

I clutch the dagger tighter. “Why are you here?”

He hesitates.

Then: “Because Kael’s lying to both of us.”

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