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The forest canopy blurred above her as darkness claimed her completely.

Consciousness returned to Maya in stages, her senses waking before her mind caught up. First came a woodsy scent—pine, cedar, and something wild and masculine that tugged at a primitive part of her brain. Next, the rough texture of handwoven blankets against her skin. Then, the dull throb at the injection site on her neck.

Her eyelids slowly fluttered open to find herself in a small bed tucked into the corner of what looked to be a one-room cabin. Maya's throat felt like sandpaper, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth as she tried to swallow. The lingering effects of whatever sedative he'd used made her head swim when she attempted to sit up.

Outside the small window across the room, darkness had fallen completely. Stars glittered in a velvet sky unimpeded by light pollution. Six, maybe seven hours since her capture, she calculated, noting the moon's position. Her scientific mind continued functioning despite her predicament.

Maya scanned her surroundings methodically. The cabin was simple but not uncomfortable—more like intentional minimalism. A small kitchenette occupied one corner with basic appliances and a wooden counter. The living area consisted of a worn leather sofa, a rug that looked handwoven, and a stone fireplace where embers glowed. Bookshelves lined one wall, surprisingly full.

Not what I expected from a werewolf bachelor pad, she thought, the absurdity of her situation hitting her. A small hysterical laugh bubbled up in her chest which she quickly suppressed.

Her gaze caught on a half-carved piece of wood abandoned on a side table, the knife beside it gleaming in the low light. Tools of his human side. How fascinating. How terrifying.

That's when she noticed him.

He sat in a leather armchair positioned strategically between her and the cabin's only door, those extraordinary silver-blue eyes watching her with predatory intensity. In the dim light cast by the dying fire, shadows accentuated the sharp planes of his face. He hadn't moved or spoken—just observed her with unnerving focus.

His legs were spread wide, claiming space with the unconscious dominance of an apex predator. One hand rested on the armrest, the fingers long and powerful, while the other held a small wooden figure he'd been carving. His black henley stretched across his chest, revealing the muscular physique that had so easily overpowered her in the forest.

A frisson of something that wasn't entirely fear traveled up Maya's spine.

The surreal reality of her situation crashed over her. She'd been kidnapped by a shapeshifter—a biological impossibility according to everything she'd ever been taught. She should be terrified and planning her escape right now. Instead, her mind buzzed with questions, observations, and hypotheses.

What's your body temperature when you're in human form? Is the transformation painful? Do you maintain human consciousness in wolf form? Is it genetic or viral? Are there others besides the ones I saw?

Questions piled up behind her lips, but she bit them back. First, she needed to understand her situation. Was she a prisoner? A threat to be eliminated? Why bring her here instead of simply killing her in the forest?

Maya glanced toward the door, calculating distance and probability. As if reading her thoughts, his posture shifted subtly—a silent warning. His eyes flashed brighter for an instant, reminding her that she wasn't dealing with a normal man.

This was the predator she'd spent her career studying—just wrapped in human packaging. Dangerous, unpredictable, and utterly fascinating.

FOUR

KIERAN

Kieran remained motionless in his chair, the wooden wolf figure half-carved between his fingers forgotten as he watched her wake. The sedative had worked precisely as expected—six hours of unconsciousness, just enough time to bring her to his sanctuary and prepare. The cabin's single room felt smaller somehow with her in it, as if her presence expanded to fill every corner.

She sat up slowly, those remarkable green eyes—flecked with gold like sunlight through forest leaves—taking inventory of his space. Kieran felt an unexpected vulnerability as she studied his belongings. Each item she noticed seemed to expose another piece of him. The worn leather of his favorite chair he was sitting in now, the carefully arranged first-edition books on his bookshelves against the wall, and the unfinished carving he'd been working on to calm his thoughts while she was asleep.

This was his refuge—the one place where he wasn't Kieran Silvercrest, heir to the Silvercrest Alpha. Just Kieran. And now she was here, disrupting everything.

The pull in his chest intensified as her gaze finally found him. Six hours of watching over her unconscious form had onlyconfirmed what his wolf already knew the moment he caught her scent in the forest. Mate. The recognition hummed in his blood with primal certainty.

He'd spent years dismissing his father's lectures about finding a suitable female from an allied pack. Years deflecting the not-so-subtle matchmaking attempts from pack elders. Years ignoring the emptiness that plagued him even surrounded by his people.

And now his mate turned out to be human. A human who'd surely witnessed him shift, no less.

The corner of Kieran's mouth twitched at the memory of her fierce resistance when he'd captured her. She'd landed a solid right hook to his jaw—a jaw that had withstood blows from fully shifted Alphas. He'd been more surprised than hurt, but the audacity of it... No one challenged him that way. No one dared.

She had no idea who he was, and what power he wielded in his world. The realization was strangely freeing.

Her eyes narrowed as she assessed him, probably reasoning why she was here and calculating escape options. Kieran shifted his weight slightly, a subtle reminder of his position between her and the door. Her gaze flicked toward the window instead, as if measuring distance and drop height.

Clever little thing, aren't you?

Something flickered in those green eyes—not fear, but curiosity. Scientific interest rather than self-preservation. That was... unexpected. Dangerous yet fascinating.

The scent of her filled his nostrils—earth and wildflowers with a hint of vanilla. Clean, natural, and perfect. His wolf strained beneath his skin, desperate to claim, to mark, and to protect.