The wind cut through the towering pines, carrying the scent of rain and something else—something foreign.
Alpha Alexander Nightbane stood at the edge of the overlook, his silver eyes locked onto the valley below. His wolf prowled beneath his skin, restless. A storm was coming, but it wasn't just the weather that set his instincts on edge.
Then he smelled it.
Blood.
His jaw clenched, his sharp gaze snapping toward the eastern border of Nightfall Pack's territory. The scent was faint but unmistakable. It mingled with something wilder, something untamed.
A rogue.
Behind him, the sound of approaching footsteps barely registered before his Beta, Elias Blackwood, came to stand at his side. "You smell that?" Elias asked, his voice low, alert.
Alexander gave a curt nod. "A rogue. Close."
Elias exhaled sharply, his expression hard. "They never learn, do they?"
Rogues were dangerous, unpredictable. Some were desperate wanderers, others were killers. Either way, they weren't welcome here.
Without another word, Alexander shifted. His bones snapped and reformed, muscle stretching and reshaping until his massive black wolf landed on all fours. The transformation was seamless, practiced. He wasted no time. He tore through the forest, the damp earth kicking up beneath his paws as he followed the scent. Elias's silver-gray wolf ran beside him, silent and alert.
The storm loomed overhead, thunder rumbling in the distance, but Alexander paid it no mind. His focus was sharp, locked onto the growing trail of blood. It was fresh, the coppery tang sharp against the crisp night air. The scent twisted with something else—pain, desperation.
And then—he saw her.
A lone figure lay crumpled at the water's edge, her body half-submerged, the river's current licking at her torn clothing. Blood smeared her pale skin, her dark hair matted with dirt and dampened by the rain. She wasn't moving.
Alexander slowed, his sharp gaze sweeping the area. No sign of another threat. No pack scent. She was alone.
Shifting back into his human form, he strode forward, eyes locked on her. The closer he got, the more details he took in. Her body was covered in bruises, her breathing shallow. Deep claw marks raked down her arm, jagged and angry, as if she had barely escaped something—or someone.
His wolf growled, a deep, possessive sound. Mine.
The word hit him like a punch to the gut, raw and undeniable. His fated mate.
No. His fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't have a mate. Wouldn't. He had sworn never to claim one, never to condemn another woman to the curse that plagued his bloodline. Every Alpha of Nightfall Pack had watched their fated mates waste away, consumed by a dark magic no one could break. His father. His grandfather. Every generation before him.
He refused to let history repeat itself.
The rogue stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. And when her eyes locked onto his, his breath caught.
Gold.
Not hazel, not amber—but molten gold, a shade he had never seen before.
A ripple of recognition surged through him, primal and unrelenting. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice harsher than he intended.
She blinked at him, her lips parting as if to answer, but only a soft, pained gasp escaped. She tried to push herself up, but her arms trembled beneath her weight.
"She's injured," Elias muttered from behind him. "She won't last the night if we leave her here."
Alexander hesitated. He should walk away. Should leave her. She was a rogue. She was dangerous. But his wolf rebelled, a fierce growl vibrating through his chest.
Protect her. Claim her.
Grinding his teeth, Alexander crouched beside her, his presence looming over her fragile form. "You're on my land, rogue. Give me one reason not to kill you where you lie."
A flicker of something—fear, defiance—crossed her face. She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Help."
The word was soft but strong, cutting through the storm brewing inside him.
Alexander exhaled sharply. Damn it.
His wolf howled in protest as he hesitated, but the moment stretched unbearably long. The scent of her blood was thick in the air, mixing with the earth and rain. The rational part of his mind screamed at him to let her die. A rogue was a risk. A rogue with a connection to him was even worse.
Yet, despite everything—despite the danger, despite the curse, despite his own damn rules—he reached for her.
Without another word, he scooped her up into his arms. The moment he touched her, a jolt of energy shot through him, a burning sensation that seared through his veins like wildfire. His wolf roared, the bond snapping into place with terrifying force.
Elias stiffened. "Are you sure about this?"
No. He wasn't.
But as he cradled her against his chest, her weight light yet grounding, he knew one thing for certain.
Everything had just changed.
As he lifted her, a soft whimper escaped her lips. Even in her unconscious state, her body tensed as though bracing for pain. The scent of her blood clung to her like a brand, making his wolf restless. She was too fragile, too thin, as if she hadn't eaten properly in weeks.
"She's been running," Elias observed, shifting into his human form beside him. "Look at the state of her."
Alexander didn't answer. His mind raced with a thousand questions. Who was she? Why was she here? And why the hell was fate cruel enough to make her his mate?
Elias exhaled heavily. "If anyone finds out—"
"They won't," Alexander said sharply, his voice leaving no room for argument. "She's coming with us."
He turned toward the packhouse, his grip firm but careful as he carried her through the trees. The rain picked up, soaking through his clothes, but he didn't care. The pull toward her was too strong to ignore.
He told himself he was just bringing her back to interrogate her. To find out why she was here. To see if she was a threat.
But deep down, he already knew the truth.
He wasn't letting her go.
Not now.
Maybe not ever.