When her chores were finished, Asena slipped out the back door without asking. The air outside was sharp and clean, filled with the scent of pine. It always smelled like freedom out here. She pulled her shawl tighter and started down the familiar path that led toward the creek.
Her aunt and uncle didn't know she came here almost every day—they wouldn't care if she did—but this little patch of forest was hers. Here, she wasn't the orphan niece they resented. She wasn't a Delta. She was just Asena.
She crouched by the water, watching the reflection of her own green eyes shimmer on the surface. "You'll get out of here someday," she whispered to herself. "You'll find a place where people aren't cruel for fun."
Her reflection smiled faintly back. She smiled too, even if she didn't believe it.
Then the forest went still.
Not quiet—still.
The wind stopped. The birds fell silent. The creek seemed to hush. Asena froze, her skin prickling with a sudden instinct she didn't understand.
Something was coming.
A twig snapped behind her. She turned.
Out of the shadows stepped a man.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, devastatingly handsome, with dark hair that caught faint sunlight and eyes that glowed—not human eyes, but something deeper, older. There was something about him that made the air feel heavier, like gravity itself bent around him.
She swallowed. "Who are you?"
He didn't answer right away. He just looked at her. Studied her. And in that look, Asena felt something she'd never felt before—like her very soul had been seen.
Then he said quietly, "You shouldn't be out here."
Asena blinked. "I live here. You shouldn't be—" She hesitated. "You're not from this territory, are you?"
He smiled slightly, a sharp edge to it. "No. I'm not."
There was no fear in his voice, no hesitation. Only certainty. Alphas spoke like that, she thought suddenly, though the idea made her chest tighten.
"You could get killed for trespassing," she said.
"Could I?" His tone was almost teasing, but his eyes—those eyes—didn't soften. "Tell me something, little wolf." He stepped closer, the scent of cedar and smoke surrounding her. "Do you know what you are?"
Asena frowned. "I told you. I'm a Delta."
The man's smile faltered, replaced by something unreadable. "Is that what they told you?"
"I—of course it is. Everyone knows."
"Hmm." He stepped close enough that the warmth of his presence brushed her skin. "You wear your wolf like armor. But it's not armor, is it? It's a cage."
Her breath caught. "What are you talking about?"
He didn't answer. For a heartbeat, his eyes changed—flickering gold before returning to storm-gray. The color made her heart stutter. She'd only ever seen that shade once before, in a book her uncle had burned. Alpha eyes.
She took a step back, pulse racing. "You're an Alpha."
"And you," he said softly, "don't know what you are yet."
Then he was gone. Just like that.
No sound, no trace. The air shifted, and he vanished into the forest like a shadow slipping back into the night.
Asena stood there trembling, staring at the empty space he'd left behind. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
"What I am?" she whispered.