Prologue

512 Words
The night tasted of rain and iron. Sam ran anyway. Branches whipped at his arms as he tore through the forest, his breath ragged, the ache in his lower belly pulsing with every frantic step. The moon, round and swollen, a silver omen—hung above him like an unblinking eye. It illuminated the bruises mottling his skin, the cuts still fresh, and the faint tremor in his hands. But it also lit the path forward, away from the place he swore he would never return to. Away from him. The scent of pine and damp earth drowned out the ghost of the Alpha who had owned him, hurt him, claimed him as if he were nothing. Elias pressed a hand to his abdomen as a faint flutter stirred beneath his palm, soft, tentative, impossibly real. Even in his exhaustion, warmth bloomed through the fear. I’m getting you out. I promise. A c***k of thunder rolled across the sky, chasing him deeper into the shadows. His legs trembled, weakened from too many days without rest, without hope. But he pushed on. He couldn’t afford to stop, not when freedom was so close he could taste it. Not when he wasn’t alone anymore. Then, through the curtain of rain, another scent pierced the air, rich, grounding, commanding. It hit him like a wave, warm and strangely familiar. It wrapped around him in a way that made his breath catch. His wolf stirred weakly, lifting its head in recognition he didn’t understand. An Alpha. Strong. Near. Panic flared, then faltered on a pulse of something else something his body whispered before his mind could understand. Destiny. Sam stumbled into a clearing, collapsing to his knees as exhaustion dragged him down. Mud splashed beneath him, cold and slick, but he barely felt it. All he sensed was that scent, growing closer, steadier, like footsteps through the storm. And then a voice deep, warm, a command wrapped in velvet. “Don’t move. You’re hurt.” Sam looked up. Through the rain stood an Alpha with dark eyes full of fire and a gentleness that made Sam’s chest ache. Their gazes locked, and the world seemed to still—rain slowing, thunder quieting, pain easing. The bond snapped into place with a force that stole his breath. His fated mate. The Alpha stepped forward, slow enough not to frighten him. “I’m Ryan,” he said softly, his scent curling around Sam like a promise. “I swear I won’t hurt you.” Sam wanted to believe him. Needed to. But all he could manage was a whisper, barely audible over the storm. “Please… don’t let him take me back.” Ryan’s expression changed to protective, fierce, resolute. He knelt beside Elias, placing a steady hand on his shoulder as though anchoring him to the earth. “No one,” Ryan vowed, voice trembling with something more powerful than rage, “is ever taking you from me.” And in the shelter of that voice, for the first time in months, Sam let himself hope.
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