The silver threading through his black hair catches moonlight as he studies me with an intensity that sends unwelcome heat through my veins. Something about him calls to me on a level I can’t understand—a pull that feels ancient and instinctive and terrifying.
“I run under the darkness of night,” he says simply, as though it’s the most natural thing for the alpha of the Snow Mountain Pack to be miles from the palace, alone in these woods. “The moon speaks more clearly when the world is quiet.” His eyes travel over me, assessing. “And you? Why is the Queen’s guard so far from her charge at this hour?”
“None of your business,” I snap, then immediately regret my tone. I’ve been raised to respect alphas, even those from other packs. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just… needed some
