The forest was my sanctuary.
Every wolf had a place where they felt the pull of the moon strongest—some in their packs, others in the arms of their mates. For me, it was here, among the towering pines, where the air smelled of damp earth and freedom. No rules. No Alpha dictating when I should bow my head. Just me, my wolf, and the memory of my father's blood staining the soil.
I tightened my grip on the dagger strapped to my thigh. Even now, years after his death, the forest whispered of betrayal. My father had been murdered in a border raid, his body torn apart under the claws of wolves who belonged to the one Alpha I swore I'd never forgive—Ronan Duskbane.
The name alone tasted like poison on my tongue.
"You're restless," my wolf murmured, her voice echoing in my mind. He's coming.
I froze, the hair on the back of my neck rising. Wolves always knew when something shifted in the air—when danger pressed in like a storm cloud. Tonight, the scent that rolled over the wind wasn't just danger. It was dominance, sharp and intoxicating, laced with power that sent every nerve in my body on edge.
I hated that my body reacted before my mind did. My pulse quickened, my wolf stirred eagerly, and heat pooled low in my stomach.
No!!! . I shoved the sensation down. Desire was weakness, and I refused to be weak.
The full moon hung heavy above the treetops, silver light painting the forest floor when the first howl cut through the night. Deep. Commanding. Alpha.
Ronan.
My chest tightened, the sound vibrating through my bones. For years, I had imagined what I would do if I ever faced him. Slit his throat? Carve my vengeance into his skin? Or spit in his face and walk away, proving I was stronger than the mate bond the Moon Goddess cursed us with?
Because yes, fate had a cruel sense of humor. The one wolf I hated most in this world was my fated mate.
The snapping of branches pulled me from my thoughts. Heavy footsteps approached, each one deliberate, as though the forest itself bent to his will. My wolf prowled beneath my skin, tail high, ears perked, aching to see him.
And then he stepped out from the shadows.
Tall. Broad shoulders cloaked in the darkness of his coat, eyes glinting silver like the moon itself. Ronan Duskbane, Alpha of the Duskbane pack—the wolf responsible for every sleepless night I'd spent reliving my father's death. His presence was a storm, and I was the lightning rod caught in its path.
"Raven Blackwood," he said, his voice a low rumble that slid over me like velvet and fire.
"I wondered how long you'd keep running."
I stiffened, drawing my dagger and aiming it at his chest. "Stay the hell away from me."
His gaze flicked to the blade, then back to my eyes, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You think that piece of steel can stop me?" he said.
"I know it can." My voice didn't waver, though my wolf howled inside me, straining against my will. Mate, she cried, tail wagging with infuriating joy.
Ronan took a step closer, the ground trembling beneath his boots. The air thickened with his scent—cedar and smoke, dangerous and addictive. My knees threatened to buckle, but I forced myself to stand tall, chin high.
"I don't want you," I spat. "The Moon Goddess made a mistake."
His silver eyes darkened, hunger flashing in their depths.
"There are no mistakes in fate."He said.
"Fate killed my father." I replied.
The smirk vanished, his jaw tightening. For a moment, something flickered across his face—regret? Pain? No. He was too ruthless to feel.
"You don't know the whole story," he said.
"I know enough." My grip on the dagger tightened until my knuckles turned white.
"You're the reason he's dead. And I will never—never—belong to you."
The bond pulsed between us, electric and undeniable. My wolf clawed at me, begging to close the distance, to bury myself in his arms. Hatred burned hotter, fueling my resolve.
Ronan moved in a blur, faster than I could blink. One second he was standing several feet away, the next his hand wrapped around my wrist, wrenching the dagger free. The blade clattered to the ground as he yanked me against him, my chest colliding with his.
Heat exploded across my skin. My breath caught, my heart hammering wildly as I stared up into those silver eyes.
"You can fight me, Raven," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "But you can't fight this."
His other hand slid to the small of my back, holding me in place. My wolf whimpered, pressing against my mind, desperate to surrender. Desire tangled with rage until I couldn't tell them apart. My nails dug into his chest, half in defiance, half to keep myself from collapsing.
"I will never submit to you," I hissed.
Ronan's lips curved into a dangerous smile, his grip firm but not cruel. "We'll see."
The moon above flared brighter, casting us in silver light as the bond burned between us—desire and hatred colliding in a storm neither of us could escape.
And in that moment, I knew one truth: whether I destroyed him or gave in to him, my life would never be the same again.