Aria woke to the restless scratching of branches against her window. For a moment she thought it was nothing more than the wind, another autumn night pressing cold fingers against the glass. But her heart was already pounding, as though it had been waiting for something, something that had stirred in her sleep.
The boy's words echoed still: "You're not safe, little wolf."
She hadn't been able to shake the sound of his voice. The stranger in the woods the way his eyes had gleamed, mocking yet hungry had haunted every thought since she'd stumbled back home. She'd told herself it was a trick of the moonlight, that maybe she'd imagined the gold in his gaze, the sharpness in his smile. Yet her instincts, the strange awareness humming beneath her skin, told her otherwise.
Tonight, it felt stronger.
She rose, padding barefoot to the window. Beyond, the forest stretched like a black sea under the glow of the waxing moon. Normally the sight calmed her; tonight it pulsed like a living heart, calling her name. The trees whispered with secrets, and she swore she could almost hear them faint voices slipping through the leaves.
A sudden sound split the night.
Not the wind. Not the creak of branches.
A howl.
Deep. Low at first, then rising, stretching until it vibrated in the marrow of her bones. The sound pierced the night, shaking it apart. Every hair on her body lifted. Her throat tightened. The glass of her window trembled.
And inside her, something woke.
She pressed a hand to her chest, gasping. Her heart wasn't only beating; it was answering.
The howl carried through the valley, rolling over the rooftops of the small town below. She could almost see it striking the houses, rattling through the streets. Lights flickered on in the neighbors' windows. Somewhere, a baby cried. Dogs barked furiously, then whimpered and fell silent. The town had heard it, all of them. And if she listened closely, she could hear the fear in their voices as they stirred.
"Wolves," someone shouted outside. A man's voice, harsh with panic.
"Too close this time," another muttered. "God help us…"
Aria's breath fogged against the glass.
This wasn't just any wolf. She knew it. The sound was too powerful, too deliberate. It wasn't wild instinct it was a declaration. A command.
An Alpha.
The thought chilled her, though she had no right to know it. Yet somehow she did. The very word rang true in her chest.
Her body shivered violently, but not from cold. The howl had sunk into her, awakening something she couldn't name. The ache that had haunted her for weeks now flared sharper, as if the sound itself had pulled on invisible threads buried deep in her blood. She clenched her fists, her nails biting her palms, desperate to hold herself together.
But a darker truth lingered under the surface. The howl hadn't terrified her the way it had the rest of the town. It had… called her.
She wanted to answer.
The realization stole her breath. She stepped back from the window, her chest heaving. What's wrong with me? Normal girls didn't long to follow wolf howls into the night. Normal girls didn't feel their veins burn with strange fire at the sound of something so savage.
And yet, the pull was undeniable.
She turned from the window, pacing the room. Each step felt heavier, as though the floor were trying to keep her here while something else dragged her toward the forest. She wanted to resist, but her body betrayed her. Her legs trembled as though ready to run, her lungs aching for air thick with pine and earth.
"Stop," she whispered to herself. Her voice cracked. "This isn't real. It isn't…"
Another howl cut through the night. Louder. Closer.
This one shattered the last of her resolve.
Aria stumbled to the door, yanking it open before she could think. The hallway was dark, her bestfriend still asleep down the hall, unaware of the primal cry shaking her friends world apart. She padded down the stairs, every nerve alive, every sense sharpened.
When she stepped outside, the cold air slapped her skin, but she hardly felt it. The night was alive with murmurs townsfolk spilling onto porches, peering nervously into the darkness. Their fear clung to the air, but it wasn't hers.
Her fear was different. Not of the wolf, but of herself.
The howl rose again, and this time she was sure it was meant for her.
She drifted from the house, her bare feet crunching over frosted grass. No one stopped her. They were too busy whispering among themselves, pulling children close, bolting doors. She barely noticed them anyway. Her eyes were fixed on the forest.
It loomed at the edge of town, black and endless. Shadows moved there, shapes she couldn't quite make out. Her skin prickled, certain she was being watched.
And she was.
Golden eyes glowed between the trees for the briefest instant so quick she might have missed them if her entire soul hadn't been searching for them.
Her lips parted in a shaky breath.
Him.
The stranger.
She didn't know his name yet, but her body did. Her blood knew. Those eyes burned like firebrands in the dark, holding her in place, pulling her closer.
The howl had been his.
The realization sank into her like a brand against flesh. The Alpha's voice had rolled over the land, but its purpose had been singular. It hadn't just warned rivals or hunters. It had claimed her attention.
Claimed her.
Aria swayed on her feet, her knees weak. She should have been terrified. She should have run back inside, slammed the door, prayed for safety. But she didn't. She couldn't.
Instead, she whispered into the night, a confession torn from somewhere deep and primal inside her:
"I hear you."
The eyes vanished. The shadows swallowed him whole.
The forest grew still again, as though holding its breath.
And then silence.
Only the pounding of her heart remained.
She stood frozen, trembling, until the cold forced her back inside. She shut the door quietly behind her, pressing her back to the wood. Her body ached as if she'd run miles. Every nerve buzzed with awareness, every thought tangled in gold eyes and that soul-shaking cry.
Upstairs, in the dark of her room, she crawled into bed and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. But sleep didn't come. Not after that.
All she could hear was the Alpha's howl, echoing through her veins, promising a truth she wasn't ready to face.
And somewhere in the forest, Damien tilted his head back and let the night claim his voice again.
This time, he didn't howl for dominance.
He howled for her.