The scent of blood clung to the air, thick and metallic, as Selene Blackwood sprinted through the dense underbrush. Her heart slammed against her ribs, the sound echoing in her ears like a war drum. Twigs snapped beneath her bare feet, each step leaving a smear of crimson in its wake. She couldn't stop. Not now. Not when they were so close.
A feral snarl cut through the night, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. They were gaining on her. Wolves. Hunters. The very people she had once called her own. Betrayal twisted in her chest, the sting more profound than any wound they could inflict. She hadn't asked for this. She hadn't wanted to be different. But the mark on her skin—the ancient sigil of a bloodbound oath—had sealed her fate long before she even knew what it meant.
Her legs burned, but she pushed harder, dodging between towering pines as the moon cast an eerie glow over the landscape. The whispers of the forest seemed to mock her. Run, run, little wolf. But you can't outrun fate.
A branch snagged in her tangled midnight hair, yanking her back with a painful jolt. She gasped, clawing at the strands, but it was too late. A massive shadow lunged from the darkness, tackling her to the ground. The impact knocked the wind from her lungs, pain splintering through her body as she struggled beneath the crushing weight.
"Found you." A voice like crushed velvet, deep and laced with amusement, sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't need to look up to know who it was. Killian Voss.
The Alpha King.
His scent—smoky cedar and something inherently lethal—enveloped her as he pressed her down, his grip ironclad. Selene bucked beneath him, snarling, but he only chuckled, the sound infuriatingly calm.
"You should know better than to run from me, little wolf." His breath ghosted over her ear, igniting a traitorous shiver.
"I don't belong to you," she spat, her voice ragged.
Killian hummed, as if considering her words, before his fingers traced the mark on her collarbone. The moment his touch met the symbol, white-hot pain lanced through her, stealing the breath from her lungs. A cruel smirk curved his lips as he watched her writhe beneath him.
"Oh, but you do," he murmured. "This mark says otherwise."
Selene's nails raked across his forearm, drawing blood, but he didn't even flinch. His molten silver eyes darkened, amusement giving way to something far more dangerous.
"You're coming with me," he said simply, as if it was law. And maybe it was. He was the Alpha King, after all. His word was as unbreakable as the bond now tethering them together.
"I'd rather die," she snarled, baring her teeth.
Killian's gaze dropped to her lips, his expression unreadable. Then, just as suddenly, he was on his feet, dragging her up with him as if she weighed nothing. She fought, twisting against his hold, but it was useless. He was stronger. Faster. A predator honed to perfection.
"You had your chance to run, little wolf. Now, you'll face the consequences." His voice was laced with finality, and for the first time that night, true fear coiled in her stomach.
Because Killian Voss never let his prey escape.
The ride back to his territory was suffocating. Selene sat rigid in front of him on the massive black steed, her hands bound with thick leather straps. The wind whipped through her hair, chilling her skin, but the heat radiating from Killian's body behind her was even more unsettling.
She should have seen this coming. The moment the mark appeared on her skin—the bloodbound oath tying her to him—her fate had been sealed. Killian had claimed her before she even knew what she was. Half-wolf, half-witch, an abomination in the eyes of the pack.
She had spent years hiding, denying her lineage, hoping that if she pretended to be normal, they would leave her be. But fate was cruel. It had other plans.
The fortress came into view, its dark stone walls looming like a beast waiting to devour her whole. Shadows stretched across the courtyard as they rode through the massive iron gates. Wolves watched in silence, their eyes flicking between her and their king.
Killian dismounted first, landing gracefully before turning to haul her down. She refused to move, but his patience was thin. With one swift motion, he pulled her into his arms and carried her through the grand entrance. She struggled, but his grip was relentless, his jaw set in a firm line.
"Put me down, you arrogant—"
He did. Right in the middle of the throne room.
Selene staggered, barely catching herself before falling to her knees. The room was massive, lined with towering pillars and banners bearing the sigil of the Voss lineage. Warriors stood along the edges, silent and watchful. At the far end, a throne of black stone loomed like a promise of ruin.
Killian strode forward, unbothered, every step exuding dominance. "Kneel," he commanded.
Selene lifted her chin, defiance burning in her veins. "Go to hell."
A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. "You're testing me, little wolf."
"I don't belong to you," she repeated, though the mark on her skin begged to differ.
Killian closed the distance between them, towering over her like a storm waiting to break. His fingers brushed her jaw, tilting her face up. "You were born to be mine, Selene," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost reverent. "Deny it all you want, but this bond won't be broken."
She trembled, hating the way his touch ignited something deep within her. A pull. A calling. The bloodbound oath thrummed between them, an unbreakable chain forged by something greater than them both.
Her fate was sealed.
And she had never hated anything more.