The air around them grew colder as the silver-haired man stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a malicious intent that made Jerome's blood run cold. She could feel Ian's body tensing beside her, his powerful presence bristling with barely contained fury. These wolves—whoever they were—had crossed into White Wolf territory without permission, and worse, they had come for Ian.
The man's companion, a woman with strikingly red hair and a predatory smirk, stood back, watching with sharp eyes. She exuded a dangerous confidence, her gaze flicking between Ian and Jerome as if assessing their weaknesses.
"We're not interested in your pack," the man said smoothly, his voice unsettlingly calm. "We've come for the White Wolf."
Ian growled low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down Jerome's spine. "You're not taking anything from me," he snarled, stepping forward, his posture protective. "Leave, or you'll regret crossing into my territory."
The silver-haired man chuckled darkly, exchanging a glance with the woman. "You misunderstand, Ian. We're not here to take you by force—at least, not yet. We've merely come to offer… an opportunity."
Jerome's heart pounded as she tried to understand the meaning behind the man's words. Ian remained rigid, his body poised to attack if necessary. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, a clear warning that he wasn't in the mood for games.
"State your business and leave," Ian demanded, his voice cold.
The woman with red hair finally spoke, her voice smooth but dripping with mockery. "Oh, it's simple, really. We're here to see if the stories about you are true. About the power of the White Wolf Alpha. If you're as powerful as they say, we'd like to make you an offer—join us."
"Join you?" Ian scoffed, his lip curling in disdain. "I don't join anyone."
The man's smile faded slightly, his expression hardening. "Think carefully before you refuse, Ian. You're strong, yes, but there are forces moving beyond this little pack of yours. Forces that will swallow you whole if you try to stand against them alone."
Jerome's stomach twisted at the man's words. The mysterious woman's warning from earlier echoed in her mind—stronger enemies, forces beyond their control. Could these wolves be part of what she had meant?
Ian's growl deepened, his voice deadly. "I don't care what forces you think you control. This is my land, my pack. Leave now, or I'll tear you apart."
The silver-haired man's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, Jerome saw the flicker of something dangerous in his expression. He wasn't afraid of Ian—if anything, he seemed excited by the prospect of a fight.
But before the tension could boil over, the woman with red hair stepped forward, placing a hand on the man's arm. "Easy, Leon," she murmured, her gaze still locked on Ian. "We're not here to spill blood—not yet, anyway."
Leon's eyes remained fixed on Ian, but he nodded slowly, taking a step back. "Consider our offer, White Wolf," he said, his voice filled with quiet menace. "When the time comes, you'll either stand with us—or be crushed by those who do."
With that, the two strangers turned and disappeared into the trees, their departure as swift and silent as their arrival. The tension in the air remained thick, and Jerome let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Ian stood motionless for a moment, his fists clenched at his sides. She could see the muscles in his jaw tightening, the fury barely contained beneath the surface. Jerome knew he wasn't just angry—he was worried, though he would never admit it.
"They'll be back," Kael muttered, stepping up beside them. His expression was grim as he stared into the forest. "Whoever they are, they won't stop."
Ian's eyes blazed as he turned to face his Beta. "Let them come," he growled. "We'll be ready."
But Jerome wasn't so sure. The pack was already weakened from the battle with the rogues, and now they faced an even greater threat—one that seemed far more calculated and sinister. These wolves weren't just after territory or revenge. They wanted Ian for a reason, and whatever it was, Jerome feared it went far deeper than simple power struggles.
As the pack regrouped and the tension began to ease slightly, Ian pulled Jerome aside, his intense gaze locking onto hers. "You're staying close to me from now on," he ordered, his voice low and firm. "I don't trust them, and I'm not taking any chances."
Jerome's heart skipped a beat at his protectiveness, but she couldn't help the flicker of rebellion that rose within her. "Ian, I'm not helpless. I can take care of myself."
His hand reached out, gently but firmly gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You don't understand, Jerome. They're not after the pack. They're after me—and that puts you in danger."
Jerome swallowed hard, her mind racing. She knew Ian was possessive, obsessive even, but this was something else entirely. He wasn't just trying to protect her—he was terrified of losing her. She could see it in his eyes, the way his grip tightened just enough to remind her of the bond between them.
"I won't let them take you from me," he whispered, his voice a mix of desperation and determination. "You're mine."
Jerome's breath caught in her throat at his words, the intensity of his emotions crashing over her like a wave. Despite everything, despite the danger and the darkness that seemed to follow Ian wherever he went, she couldn't deny the connection between them. It terrified her and thrilled her all at once.
Before she could respond, Ian's lips crashed against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. The world around them disappeared, and for a moment, all Jerome could feel was the heat of his body, the overwhelming need in his touch. It was dangerous, it was consuming, but she couldn't pull away.
When he finally released her, his eyes were dark and filled with an unspoken promise. "You belong to me, Jerome. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."
Jerome's heart raced, her mind spinning as she stared up at him. She didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain—this was far from over.
To be continued...