Down On Your Knees, Alpha.

Chapter Three

Kiara's POV

The woods remember everything. That's what my mother used to say. Every death, every hunt, every secret whispered beneath the shadows— the trees hold them all.

Which is why I'm here, at two in the morning, armed with nothing but a flashlight and a desperate hope that I'll find something, anything, that connects the Silver Crest Pack to the m******e that destroyed my life.

The forest is different at night. Alive in ways the daylight hides. Every rustle could be prey or predator. Every shadow could be a friend or foe.

I've searched the library records, hacked into the school's digital archives, even stolen glances at old pack registries. But the real secrets aren't kept in buildings. They're kept here, in the places wolves think humans are too afraid to venture.

They underestimate me.

Everyone does.

My flashlight catches something— claw marks on a tree trunk, deep and deliberate. Too high for a normal wolf. My pulse quickens. This could be territorial markings from eight years ago, from when—

A twig snaps behind me.

I spin, my hand already reaching for the silver knife at my hip, but I'm too slow.

Two massive wolves emerge from the darkness, their eyes reflecting my flashlight like twin coins. Rogues. I can tell by their matted fur, their wild scent, the way they move without pack coordination.

But they're still wolves.

And I'm still pretending to be human.

Shit!

"Easy," I say, backing away slowly, keeping my voice calm even as my heart hammers against my ribs. "I'm just a student. I got lost. I'll leave—"

The larger one lunges before I can finish my words.

I dive sideways, the knife finally in my hand, but the second rogue catches my leg, its teeth tearing through denim and into flesh. Pain explodes up my calf and I bite back a scream.

I can't scream, can't draw attention, can't reveal that I'm more than I seem.

I s***h with the silver blade, catching the rogue across the muzzle. It yelps and releases me, but the damage is done. Blood soaks my jeans, warm and sticky. The larger rogue circles, its lips pulled back in a snarl that promises death.

I'm going to die here.

After everything— after eight years of planning, of surviving, of swallowing my pride and my rage— I'm going to die in these woods without ever avenging my parents.

The thought fills me with fury so pure it burns away the fear.

No.

I shift my weight, preparing to fight even though I know it's hopeless, even though my suppressed wolf is screaming in the hollow of my chest, desperate to break free.

A blur of motion suddenly crashes into the larger rogue. For a moment, I can't process what I'm seeing.

A wolf— massive, dark gray with silver undertones— has appeared from nowhere, its jaws locked around the rogue's throat. They tumble across the forest floor in a savage tangle of teeth and claws.

The second rogue abandons me, lunging to help its companion.

And then I see him shift.

Zephyr.

He's magnificent in his wolf form. But he's also outnumbered, and these rogues fight with the desperation of wolves with nothing to lose.

I should run. I should disappear into the darkness and let him handle this alone. But my traitorous feet move forward instead, the silver knife steady in my hand. When the smaller rogue tries to flank Zephyr, I strike, driving the blade deep into its hindquarters.

It howls, whipping toward me, and for a second I'm staring into eyes that promise retribution.

Then Zephyr is there, placing himself between us, blood matting his fur. The rogues seem to realize they're outmatched, or maybe they just decide we're not worth the trouble, because they retreat, limping and snarling into the darkness.

Silence crashes over the clearing.

Zephyr shifts back to human form, and I immediately avert my eyes because he's naked and this is absolutely not the time to notice the way moonlight catches on his skin, the way his chest heaves with exertion, the way—

Focus, Kiara!

"What the hell were you thinking?" His voice is raw with fury and something else. Fear? "You could have been killed!"

I finally look at him, keeping my eyes firmly on his face, and that's when I see it. A deep gash across his ribs, blood streaming down his side. He took that protecting me.

Something in my chest clenches painfully. He got hurt because of me. Because he followed me into these woods when he should have stayed away, when any sane wolf would have let the rejected human face the consequences of her own stupidity.

But he didn't.

"I didn't ask for your help," I snap, even as guilt twists in my stomach. "I had it under control."

"Under control?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You were about to become a midnight snack, and you had it under control?"

"I'm tougher than I look."

"You're also bleeding." His eyes drop to my leg, and his expression shifts, darkens. "s**t, Kiara."

The way he says my name shouldn't affect me. But it does.

"It's just a scratch." I try to put weight on it and immediately regret it. Pain lances up my leg, sharp and unforgiving. The world tilts sideways, and suddenly his hands are on me, steadying me.

"Just a scratch," he mutters, and I hear the fear beneath his anger. "You're impossible."

Zephyr is beside me in an instant, his arm around my waist, supporting my weight. This close, I can smell him, pine and copper-bright blood. This close, the mate bond roars to life, screaming at me to touch him, to press against him, to lean into the warmth of his body and never let go.

"Don't," I say weakly, trying to pull away. "I don't need—"

"For once in your life, just shut up and let me help you."

There's something in his voice, something desperate and confused and almost… hurt, that makes me stop struggling.

He guides me to a fallen log, and I sit, trying not to think about the fact that he's still naked, still touching me, still looking at me like I'm a puzzle he can't solve.

"Why were you out here?" he asks, crouching in front of me to examine my leg. His hands are surprisingly gentle as they push aside the torn fabric. "And don't lie to me. Humans don't wander into werewolf territory at night unless they have a death wish or a secret."

"Maybe I have both."

His eyes snap to mine, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. The bond pulls taut between us, impossible to ignore.

"You're infuriating," he says quietly.

"You're insufferable."

"You rejected me in front of the entire school."

"You mocked me for being human."

"I thought—" He breaks off, his jaw clenching. "I don't know what I thought. But every time I try to hate you, every time I try to make your life hell like I promised, something stops me."

His fingers trace the wound on my leg with infinite care, and I shiver despite myself. "My wolf goes insane if you're hurt. I followed you tonight because I had to, because the thought of you out here alone made me—" He shakes his head. "I don't understand this. I don't understand you."

"Good," I say, but my voice comes out softer than I intended. "You're not supposed to."

His hand is still on my leg, warm against my skin, and I should push him away. I should maintain the distance, the hatred, the clear lines between us.

But God help me, I don't want to.

"There's something you're not telling me," he says, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "Something about why you're really here. About what you were looking for in these woods." He leans closer, and I can feel his breath against my skin. "You fight like someone trained. You carry a silver knife like you know how to use it. And tonight, when that rogue attacked you, for just a second, I could have sworn I felt..."

He trails off, but I know what he was going to say. He felt my wolf. The suppression spell my mother cast is strong, but in moments of extreme danger, cracks appear.

"There's nothing to tell," I lie, hating how easily the deception comes. "I'm just a human who's tired of being prey."

"Liar." But he says it almost gently, without accusation. "You're keeping secrets, Kiara Quinn. And one day, I'm going to figure out what they are."

"Good luck with that."

"I don't need luck." His thumb brushes across my knee, a touch so light it might have been accidental. Except nothing about Zephyr Thorne is accidental. "I have time. And whether you like it or not, I'm not going anywhere."

"We should go back." I stand abruptly, ignoring the pain in my leg, ignoring the way my body screams at me to stay close to him. "Before someone realizes we're both missing."

He rises too, and suddenly we're too close, his bare chest inches from me, heat radiating off his skin. The mate bond flares, and I see his pupils dilate, see his breathing change.

He wants to kiss me.

I want him to kiss me.

This is a big disaster.

"Put some clothes on," I say, my voice embarrassingly breathy. "Before you freeze to death."

A slow smile curves his lips— the first genuine smile I've seen from him. "Worried about me, mate?"

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? It's what you are. Even if you did reject me."

"Which you still haven't accepted."

"No," he says softly, seriously. "I haven't. And I don't think I will."

He shifts back to wolf form, and I understand it's so I can lean on him as we make our way back to campus. I should refuse. I should maintain my pride.

But my leg is screaming, and his fur is warm, and for just this moment— just this one stolen moment— I let myself accept his help.

My fingers tangle in his fur as we walk, and I feel him shudder beneath my touch. The bond hums between us, a living thing neither of us knows how to kill.

Tomorrow, I'll go back to hating him, and remember why I'm here.

But tonight, in these woods that remember everything, I let myself forget that Zephyr Thorne is my enemy. Even though I know I'll regret it.