His To Claim

Chapter 2: The Stranger With Storm Eyes

Her POV — LUNA

I should’ve kept running.

Every instinct I had screamed for it—from the tips of my toes to the wild thing in my chest that hadn’t stopped thrashing since I locked eyes with him.

But I didn’t run. I couldn’t. Not because he had me pinned. Not even because of the kiss—gods, that kiss—but because the bond was already anchoring me to the earth beneath him.

I felt it in the way my body went still, not out of fear, but recognition.

The Alpha.

My mate.

No. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this.

The sky above us was dark with storm clouds, the scent of blood still hanging thick in the air. I could hear the distant sounds of wolves snarling, the wind pushing through the trees. But all I could feel was him. His weight pressing me into the ground. His bare skin hot against mine. His eyes, glowing gold, searching me like I was already his.

And I hated how much I wanted him to look at me like that.

“You’re mine now,” he said—his voice not a question, not a plea. A fact.

He didn’t even know me.

He didn’t know what I’d done. Who I was before this. He didn’t know that my last Alpha had chained me, used me, nearly broke me. That I’d clawed my way out of that nightmare and sworn I’d never bow to another Alpha again. Never trust. Never need.

Especially not like this.

But his touch burned through all the walls I’d built.

I swallowed hard, blinking away the sudden sting behind my eyes. “You don’t even know my name.”

He raised an eyebrow, just slightly. “Tell me.”

“Why should I?” I whispered, not trusting my voice.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against the edge of my jaw, and I trembled despite myself. “Because you’re shaking,” he said quietly. “And I think you’re not sure if you want to kiss me again… or kill me.”

I bit my lip hard. “Maybe both.”

That earned me a dark, amused sound from deep in his throat. “Fair enough.”

He didn’t press me again. Just pulled back enough to give me space. His hands let go of my wrists slowly—like he didn’t want to, but knew if he didn’t, I’d never forgive him.

I sat up, wrapping my arms around myself. I was in a thin shirt and torn jeans, bare feet scraped and muddy, blood on my arms that wasn’t mine. But he was still looking at me like I was something sacred.

And it terrified me.

He didn’t ask questions. Not yet. Just watched me. Waiting.

“My name is Luna,” I said at last, voice so quiet the wind nearly carried it away.

His eyes flickered.

“Of course it is,” he murmured, almost to himself.

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He just smiled. Not arrogant. Not cruel. Just—knowing. Like my name made something settle inside him.

“I’m Ryan,” he said. “Alpha of Blackridge.”

I stiffened. Blackridge. One of the most feared packs in the north. I’d heard the stories—savage, ruthless, dominant. Their Alpha had risen young after a blood feud, hadn’t taken a mate, hadn’t let anyone close.

Until now.

I stood slowly, legs shaking beneath me. “I don’t belong here,” I said. “I’m not part of any pack.”

He stood too, towering over me, muscles tense, jaw set. “You are now.”

“No.” My voice cracked. “I didn’t choose this.”

He moved closer, slow like a predator. “Neither did I. But fate doesn’t ask permission, Luna. It chooses.”

I looked up at him, defiant even as my voice trembled. “What if I reject it?”

A shadow crossed his face, a flicker of something painful. He nodded once, like he’d considered the possibility.

“Then I’ll let you walk,” he said finally, voice gravel rough. “I won’t force you. But you should know—your scent is already in my blood. I’ll crave you every night. Dream of you. Burn for you.”

I inhaled sharply.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

I didn’t know.

But I knew I was already burning.

I turned away from him, arms still wrapped tight around my ribs like I could hold myself together. I couldn’t stop shaking. The mate bond was like a drug—I could feel it already pulsing under my skin, making me ache, making me need. And that scared me more than anything.

But what scared me more?

I didn’t want it to stop.

“I’m tired,” I said finally, hating how small my voice sounded.

He stepped closer—just one step. Enough that I could feel the heat from his body. But he didn’t touch me.

“There’s a cabin,” he said. “Safe. Private. You can sleep. I won’t come in.”

I turned to look at him. “You sure about that?”

His eyes burned. “If I walk in that room… I won’t just watch you sleep.”

My breath hitched.

We stood there, the silence between us a living thing. Heavy. Heated. Unspoken promises in the dark.

Finally, I nodded.

And without another word, he turned and led me through the trees.

Not touching.

Not yet.

But the pull between us was alive and impossible to ignore.

And I knew… it was only a matter of time before we broke.