Covetous Wolf

Ash

The air in the clearing still reeked of poison.

Even though the boy lived, the scent of his sickness lingered, clinging to the pack’s mood like smoke after a fire. Noel kept her head low as she walked past the others, but it didn’t matter. Their eyes followed. Some burned with pity. Others, with blame.

She was the stranger. The omega. The easiest one to point fingers at.

By midday, whispers had grown sharp enough to cut.

“She drew the rogues here.”

“She’s bad luck.”

“She’s dangerous.”

Noel tried to swallow the fear rising in her throat, but it stuck, bitter.

“You hear them too.”

The voice came soft, steady. Noel turned to find Kieran—the alpha’s loyal enforcer—standing just behind her. His dark hair fell into his eyes, his expression unreadable.

“They’ll keep talking,” he said, folding his arms. “Until something proves them wrong.”

Her heart sank. “And if nothing does?”

Kieran’s gaze softened for a breath. “Then the alpha will silence them himself.” He glanced toward the alpha’s cabin. “You might not like his ways, Noel, but his word is law.”

Noel’s stomach twisted. His law. His protection. His claim. She hated how the thought made her pulse quicken.

That night, as the pack gathered around the fire, Maris slipped into place beside Dorian, her hand brushing his arm with casual familiarity. Her laughter rose above the crackle of flames, sweet and sharp. She looked every inch the alpha’s perfect match.

Noel tried to ignore it. Tried to focus on the stars above, the warmth of the fire on her skin. But when she looked up, she found Dorian staring at her instead of Maris.

The weight of his gaze stole her breath.

Maris noticed. Of course she did. Her lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile—it was a promise of war.

Later, when the pack had begun to drift into sleep, Noel stole away to the river. She knelt in the cool grass, splashing water on her face, willing her thoughts to still.

“Running again?”

Her heart jumped. She spun.

Dorian stepped from the shadows, silent as ever. But tonight, his control looked thinner, his eyes darker.

“You can’t keep sneaking after me,” she whispered, though her voice lacked bite.

“I can’t seem to stop,” he admitted, the words rough, dragged from somewhere deep. He moved closer, slow and deliberate, until his shadow covered hers. “Do you know what it does to me? To smell you in the air and not have you under me?”

Her breath caught, heat flooding her veins. “You don’t own me,” she managed, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

His hand brushed her jaw, thumb grazing the corner of her lips, barely a touch. His eyes burned into hers.

“No,” he growled softly. “But I will.”

The bond between them snapped taut, electric, undeniable. Her wolf surged forward, desperate to close the space.

But before either of them could break, a sharp howl split the night. Urgent.

Dorian jerked back, every muscle tensing. His voice dropped to a dangerous rasp.

“Stay here. Do not move.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the darkness with the speed of a predator answering a call to war.

Noel stood frozen, her heart racing. She didn’t know what was waiting out there in the woods. She only knew one thing: danger had come again.

And this time, she feared it wasn’t meant for the pack. It was meant for her.

The forest hushed after Dorian vanished, every sound swallowed by the weight of his absence. Noel wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the trees, waiting for the echo of footsteps that never came.

Minutes dragged like hours. Her skin prickled with unease.

Snap.

Her head jerked toward the sound. Branches shifted, too close. Her throat tightened. “Dorian?” she whispered.

But it wasn’t him.

From the shadows stepped two wolves she didn’t recognize—faces hard, eyes glinting with hostility. Not rogues. Pack wolves.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, omega,” one of them said, his voice thick with disdain. “It makes you look… suspicious.”

Noel’s pulse spiked. “Suspicious of what?”

“Poison.” The second wolf’s lip curled. “Everyone’s saying it. You’ve cursed us since the day you stepped foot here.”

They closed in, shoulders rolling, their intent sharp in the air. Her wolf shrank back inside her chest, but she forced her chin high. “If you think I’m afraid of you—”

The first wolf lunged.

Noel stumbled back, hitting the damp earth hard. Claws slashed through the space her face had been a moment before. Her scream ripped out before she could stop it.

And then the trees exploded with motion.

A blur of dark hair and fury slammed into the wolves, sending them sprawling. Dorian.

He didn’t bother with words. His fists connected with flesh, savage and unrelenting. One wolf yelped, another spat blood, both scrambling back under the storm of his blows.

“Mine!” The word tore out of him, half-growl, half-roar. His wolf glared through his eyes, feral and unchained. “Touch her again, and I’ll tear your throats out.”

The two wolves bolted into the trees, whimpering, too terrified to look back.

The clearing went still again. Dorian turned, chest heaving, blood dripping from his knuckles. His eyes—wild, glowing—locked on Noel.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. His fury wasn’t aimed at her, but it wrapped around her like fire all the same.

Slowly, he knelt, his massive frame lowering until his face hovered close to hers. His hand brushed her jaw, rough and trembling, as if anchoring himself.

“You don’t run. You don’t hide. You don’t breathe without me knowing.” His voice was a rasp, his control paper-thin. “Do you understand, Noel?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her body hummed with fear, with heat, with something dangerous she couldn’t name.

And then he leaned closer, his mouth grazing her ear.

“They will not touch you again. Because you’re already mine.”

Noel’s heart slammed against her ribs, torn between denial and surrender. And in the shadows beyond them, just out of sight, Maris watched with eyes that burned like knives.