Chapter1
Lorien's growl split the air. "There! After her!"
I ran.
The forest blurred around me as I moved, my limbs fluid and silent. I was faster than them, but I couldn't afford to vanish completely. I needed them to follow.
The river. That was my destination. I could already hear the rushing water, the scent of rain and stone filling the air. If I played this right, I could stage my entrance into the Blackthorn Pack as a lost rogue, hunted and desperate.
I reached the riverbank just as Lorien's claws sliced through the space where I had been moments ago. I twisted mid-air, landing hard on the rocks below. A pained cry tore from my throat—a sound I had forced out, just convincing enough to sell my deception.
The impact sent a jolt of pain up my leg. I gritted my teeth. The wound would heal quickly, but weakness—even faked weakness—was dangerous in a place like this.
Lorien loomed over me, his emerald eyes glowing in the moonlight. "Who the hell are you?"
I gasped, dragging in breaths as if I'd been running for hours. "Please... I don't want any trouble." My voice trembled—not from fear, but from carefully practiced deception. "I was being chased. Rogues."
Lorien's eyes narrowed. Good. Suspicion meant he was thinking. Thinking meant he was distracted.
"Rogues?" His partner stepped closer, scanning the trees. "I don't smell anyone else."
"I swear," I whispered, my fingers digging into the wet earth. "They—they killed my pack. I ran. Please... I have nowhere else to go."
Lorien studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he exhaled sharply and muttered, "Ronan’s going to love this."
My stomach twisted. Not with fear. But with something far more dangerous.
Anticipation.
They bound my hands before dragging me toward their camp. I allowed it. It would make my deception even more believable. A rogue with nothing left to lose. A stray with no home. A girl too weak to be a threat.
The Blackthorn camp was a fortress of stone and towering walls, tucked deep into the heart of the forest. Wolves moved through the camp, their gazes flickering toward me with curiosity and distrust. I kept my head down, every movement calculated. I had spent years perfecting the art of being overlooked.
But then he stepped forward, and all of my careful planning shattered.
Ronan Stormbane.
I had known he would be powerful. I had known he would be strong. But nothing could have prepared me for the sheer force of his presence.
He was taller than I expected, his broad shoulders carrying the weight of leadership with ease. His dark brown hair was tousled by the wind, and his emerald eyes burned with the intensity of a man who took no chances. He was lethal, but there was something else beneath the danger—something that made my pulse falter.
And then, he spoke.
"Who is she?" His voice was deep, commanding, the sound of a man used to being obeyed.
Lorien shoved me forward. "Found her on the border. Claims she was being hunted by rogues."
Ronan's gaze swept over me, sharp and assessing. I knew the second he caught my scent—because his body tensed, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
Fated mates recognize each other by scent.
He knew. He felt it.
My blood turned to ice.
The air grew thick with something unspoken, a tension that neither of us acknowledged. His expression remained unreadable, but the storm in his eyes told me everything.
He didn’t trust me.
Good.
I needed him to doubt. To hesitate. To question. Because the longer he kept me here, the closer I got to fulfilling my mission.
I dropped my gaze, letting my voice waver. "Please… I just need a place to stay. Just for the night."
A long silence stretched between us. Then, finally, Ronan exhaled through his nose and muttered, "Put her in the east cabin. Under guard."
I bowed my head, masking my triumph. Step one was complete.
I had entered the Blackthorn Pack.
And soon, the Alpha would be dead.
