I never should have come here.

The moment I stepped into Blackridge territory, I felt it. The weight in the air. The unspoken laws that whispered threats through the rustling leaves. The thick scent of wolves that did not belong to me.

A rogue had no place here.

But I wasn’t just any rogue.

My entire life had been spent on the run, slipping through the cracks of territories, always a step ahead of the dangers chasing me. I had learned how to disappear, how to survive. I was a ghost, nothing more than a shadow in the night.

Until now.

Because this time, I had nowhere left to run.

I crouched low against a thick tree trunk, my breath slow and measured despite the rapid beat of my heart. The moonlight barely broke through the canopy, casting eerie silver shadows over the dense forest. The sounds of the night were too quiet, the usual chirping of crickets and rustling of small creatures absent.

They knew.

They sensed the hunters moving in the dark.

And so did I.

I had tried to avoid this. I had changed my course a hundred times, careful never to cross into pack lands. But the moment I smelled them, it was already too late.

The Blackridge wolves were close.

A chill swept through me as I pressed a hand to the ground, feeling for vibrations. My fingers brushed damp leaves and the cold, rich soil, but I sensed nothing. Yet I knew they were there. Stalking. Waiting.

The Blackridge Pack was notorious. Ruthless. Unforgiving. Their Alpha, Killian Voss, was a name spoken in both reverence and fear. A man who ruled with an iron grip, his power unmatched, his laws absolute.

And now, I was trespassing on his land.

I swallowed hard, my pulse roaring in my ears.

I needed to move.

Slowly, carefully, I shifted my weight onto the balls of my feet, muscles coiled, ready to run. The moment I stood, a low growl rumbled through the trees, vibrating in my bones.

Shit.

I pivoted sharply just as a massive black wolf stepped into the clearing. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight—silver, piercing, lethal. He was a predator, through and through, and I was his prey.

I knew what came next.

Capture. Punishment. Maybe even death.

I refused to let that happen.

Before he could lunge, I spun on my heel and bolted. The forest blurred around me as I pushed myself faster, my muscles burning, my breath sharp and ragged. The heavy sound of paws thundered behind me, closing the distance too quickly.

I wasn’t fast enough.

I never stood a chance.

A sudden force crashed into me, sending me sprawling onto the cold, unforgiving earth. A sharp cry ripped from my lips as my back slammed against the damp ground. Before I could recover, a crushing weight pinned me down, knocking the air from my lungs.

Hot breath ghosted over my throat, and when I looked up, my blood turned to ice.

Not a wolf.

A man.

And not just any man.

Killian Voss.

Even in the dim moonlight, I could see the sharp angles of his face, the brutal perfection of his features. Dark, tousled hair framed a jaw carved from stone, his cheekbones sharp enough to cut. But it was his eyes that locked me in place.

Silver, stormy, and utterly consuming.

A shiver ran down my spine, though I refused to let him see my fear.

His body was pressed against mine, a solid, unmovable force. Every inch of him radiated power, dominance. His scent—woodsmoke, cedar, and something darker, something sinful—wrapped around me, thick and intoxicating.

A scent that should have terrified me.

Instead, it did something far worse.

It called to me.

I clenched my teeth, fighting the strange pull in my chest, the heat crawling beneath my skin. It was impossible.

This couldn’t be happening.

He stared down at me, unblinking, as if he could see straight into my soul. As if he already knew.

No. No, no, no.

Not this.

Not him.

Killian inhaled deeply, his grip tightening on my wrists. His entire body tensed, his eyes darkening with something feral, something possessive.

And then he whispered the words that sealed my fate.

"Mine."

A violent shudder racked through me. My heart slammed against my ribs.

I didn’t need to hear anything else.

I already knew what he was.

What he was to me.

Fate was cruel.

Because Killian Voss—the most dangerous Alpha in the region—was my mate.

My breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. The weight of Killian Voss pressed against me, his hands locked around my wrists like iron shackles, his scent wrapping around me like a noose.

His words still echoed in my head, a dangerous whisper that made my blood turn to fire.

"Mine."

No. No, no, no.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

I had spent my entire life running from the past, from the chains of fate, from the possibility that anyone—anyone—could ever claim me. And yet, here I was, pinned beneath the most feared Alpha in the region, his scent now imprinted in my senses, his voice sinking deep into my bones.

This wasn’t how my story was supposed to go.

"Get off me," I snarled, shoving against him with every ounce of strength I had left.

Killian didn’t move. Not even an inch.

If anything, his grip tightened, his body shifting slightly, the weight of him pressing me deeper into the cold earth. His silver eyes flickered, searching my face like he was trying to make sense of something, trying to understand.

Like he couldn’t believe this any more than I could.

I gritted my teeth, my wolf clawing at the inside of my chest, but I forced her down. She was restless, confused, tempted—but I wasn’t.

I refused to be.

"I said, get off!" I growled, twisting beneath him.

A muscle ticked in his jaw, his expression unreadable. He was watching me—studying me. I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves, a storm brewing just beneath his carefully controlled surface.

Then, as if deciding something, his grip loosened.

He pulled back just enough for me to breathe, his body still hovering over mine, his heat searing through my clothes. His scent was intoxicating, an assault on my senses. I hated it.

I hated that I liked it.

Killian exhaled sharply, his voice a low, rough rasp. "Who are you?"

I swallowed hard. Lying wouldn’t work. He was an Alpha. He’d smell deception a mile away. But that didn’t mean I had to give him everything.

"A rogue," I said simply.

His gaze darkened, his jaw clenching. "No rogue crosses my land without a death wish."

I bit the inside of my cheek. That part wasn’t exactly untrue.

His eyes flicked lower, scanning me, lingering at the hollow of my throat where my pulse thundered wildly beneath my skin.

He could hear it.

He could feel it.

The bond.

His pupils dilated slightly, his nostrils flaring, as if taking in more of my scent, confirming what he already knew but couldn’t believe.

My stomach twisted.

I had spent years running, hiding, avoiding this very moment. And now, with just a single step into the wrong territory, fate had thrown me into the hands of a man who was never supposed to find me.

An Alpha who could never be mine.

"Let me go," I said, forcing my voice to be steady.

Killian let out a humorless chuckle, the sound low and laced with something dangerous. "You think I can just let you go?"

I met his gaze, refusing to look away. "I don’t belong here."

Something flickered in his expression. "You do now."

A shiver ran through me, not from the cold, but from the absolute finality in his tone.

He meant it.

He believed it.

No. No, I refused this.

With one last surge of desperation, I twisted sharply, using the distraction to break free. I scrambled backward, breath ragged, legs shaking as I forced myself to my feet.

But Killian was faster.

The moment I moved, he was already standing, already reaching for me.

I spun, ready to bolt—

And slammed straight into a wall of muscle.

A second wolf.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing green eyes and a knowing smirk. His scent was different—still dominant, still Alpha-like, but not like Killian’s.

His pack.

I was completely surrounded.

"Going somewhere?" the man asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

I took a slow step back, only to hit another body behind me. More wolves had closed in, their eyes gleaming in the darkness, their stances rigid with unspoken orders.

Killian’s orders.

I gritted my teeth.

I had never been this trapped before. Never.

Killian stepped forward, his presence swallowing up the space between us, his gaze locked on me like a predator who had just decided his prey wasn’t going anywhere.

"Take her back to the packhouse," he commanded.

Panic shot through me.

No.

If they took me there, I’d never get out.

I lunged to the side, trying to break free, but hands caught my arms, holding me firm.

"Let go!" I snarled, my wolf thrashing inside me.

"Easy, sweetheart," the green-eyed wolf drawled, his grip firm but almost amused. "Wouldn’t want you to get hurt."

I hated him.

I hated all of them.

But most of all… I hated the pull in my chest, the sickening warmth that curled in my stomach as Killian took one last step forward, his presence suffocating, overwhelming.

"Enough," he growled. "You’re coming with me."

And just like that, the world tilted.

A sharp prick of something cool and stinging met my neck.

I barely had time to process it before my vision blurred, my limbs going numb, my head spinning.

The last thing I saw before everything went dark was Killian’s silver eyes watching me—unblinking, unwavering—like he had just captured something he would never let go.