ALPHA’S CHOSEN ENEMY

The forest burned The smoke twirled up in the midnight sky as Ronan Blackclaw ran silently through the ash-streaked trees. The wolves padded up alongside him — silent shapes darting between the fire. They were trained not to bark. Not tonight. Tonight was about stealth. Retrieval. Extraction. And blood. “The border’s clear,” Taron, his Beta, whispered. “But we’ve seen a path taking us to the Hollow Cave.” Ronan’s jaw tightened. “Alive?” “Could be. Or bait.” He didn’t care which. And that the Hollow Cave was off-limits to all Nightshade and Ashbane wolves. If there were Ashbane wolves taking cover, it was for one reason and one reason only. They had something they shouldn’t. And it was up to Ronan to retrieve it. He lifted his hand. The signal was clear. Move.They ran, changing with each stride, and didn't say anything. Fur exploded along their spines. Bones snapped and twisted. Instead of a handful of warriors dashing along, the formation of five massive wolves was racing perfectly toward the cave. Ronan's coat was black as pitch. Silent. Fast. Unseen. He didn't have that burning in his muscles. The wind slicing across his fur didn't seem to faze him. He only felt purpose. Retrieve the stolen relic. Kill whoever took it. The ceasefire between Nightshade and Ashbane had been hanging by its fingernails. That thievery — which is to say, the insult — might very well burn the place down. And maybe it should. Ronan was done pretending peace with a pack that had murdered his sister six winters past. But orders were orders. Capture first. Kill later. They were at the mouth of the cave by moonrise. It was quiet. Too quiet. Ronan looked down again, crouching low, taking on a human shape. His men followed. They crept inside, weapons drawn. The silence was absolute. Then — A whisper. A breath. A stirring at the back of the cavern, half obscured by sharp boulders and luminous moss. "Don't," Taron hissed. But Ronan was already moving. Crouched low, every muscle tensed, he picked his way around scattered leaves. A soft rustle. A broken inhale. He turned the corner — And froze. There was a girl huddled against the wall. Pale. Dirty. Barefoot. Her clothes torn. A leather satchel was clutched to her chest like a life preserver. Ronan's vision blurred with rage. Another spy. Another cowardly Ashbane trap. He zipped across the distance and pulled the bag out of her hands. "Don't — !" she cried out. Too late. The bag tore open — and there it was. The Nightshade Relic. A black stone disk with silver runes around the edge, emitting a faint aura of power. Power that was that of his forebears. He looked down at the girl. She was trembling. Lips cracked. Dirt smeared across her cheek. But it was her eyes that seized him — wild and silver-blue, large with terror. "You robbed my pack," he growled. "I — I didn't know it was — " "Liar." He stepped forward. She scrambled away, struck the wall. And that's when it happened. The air snapped between them. It's like the cave was sort of tilting sideways. Ronan's heart pounded once, twice — and then felt as though it had stopped entirely. Her smell filled his nostrils like a storm. Soft. Clean. Devastating. Mate. His wolf roared inside him. He took a step back, flabbergasted. "No," he whispered. She blinked. "What… what was that?" "You're… " he couldn't say it. Couldn't believe it. She was Ashbane. A thief. A spy. The daughter of his enemy. And his mate. The bond seared through his chest like hot iron, snapping instincts to life. Protect. Claim. Shield. Kill anyone who touched her. He wanted to vomit. Ronan stepped back from her, shaking as he fought to keep himself in hand. "Take her," he barked at Taron. "What?" "Shackle her. Gag her if she resists. We take her back alive." Taron frowned. "I had an impression we were shooting them on sight—" "She's carrying the relic. She's valuable now." He didn't explain further. He couldn't. Not yet. The ride back was silent. The girl — no, Kaia, her name was Kaia — said nothing. She was riding with her back to the man who rode behind her, and quite low in her seat, leaning on two warriors on each side of her, her face set toward the horizon and her silent tears flowing on her dirty cheeks. What had just happened she did not know. And Ronan wanted to keep it that way. Nor did he want to acknowledge it. Not to her. Not to himself. As soon as they entered the Nightshade compound, Kaia was hauled into the inner holding area. Ronan came after her, slinking behind like a predator. It was as if with each one his lungs would be pulled tighter together in the bond. She shouldn't be his mate. The moon must have been fooling itself. He found her sitting in the stone cell, chained and trembling. She jerked her head up when he appeared. "I didn't mean to steal it," she whispered. "They said it was nothing but a stone." "Who told you?" he barked. She flinched. "My father." "Name." She hesitated. "Alpha Cain Thornveil." His blood went ice cold. So it was true. The enemy's daughter. And now the mate he was meant to kill. He ought to have killed her then and there. Snapped her neck. Buried the bond. Erased the weakness. But instead… Snatching the blanket from his own shoulders, he threw it at her. "Eat. Warm up. Then tell me everything." Kaia blinked back at the surprising kindness. She didn't trust it. Neither did he.