Page 9

Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps and—

The cottage came into view. My breath caught.

The door was hanging off its hinges, cracked down the middle, swaying in the wind like a broken jaw. Inside, I saw movement—shadows. Boots scuffing against the floor. My stomach dropped.

Two of them were inside, digging through our things like scavengers—one already holding the tattered blanket from our bed, the other rifling through the small crate where I kept what little food we had left. They turned the moment they saw me. Sharp eyes. Hungry eyes. Wolves.

“You live here?” one asked, stepping toward me. His voice was too calm, too cold.

“Yes,” I said, barely managing the word. Dain pressed behind me, holding my coat with both fists.

“We’re looking for someone,” said the second. “Young male. Seventeen to nineteen. Blonde hair. Human-born. Seen anyone new pass through?”

I shook my head. “No strangers here.”

They looked at each other, then back at me. The first one stepped closer, nostrils flaring slightly as he sniffed the air. His gaze flicked toward the bed. His lip curled.

“If you’re not hiding anything,” he said, voice shifting into alow growl, “why does your cot smell like wolf?”

Before I could answer, he grabbed my arm and yanked me forward, hard enough to knock me to my knees. I hit the floor with a gasp, pain flaring up my spine.

“You lying bitch.”

He raised his hand, and the back of it came down hard across my cheek. Stars burst in my vision.

“Lexi!” Dain screamed, darting forward.

“No—Dain!”

He kicked the man square in the shin with his little boot, fists clenched and eyes wide with rage. The wolf snarled and rounded on him.

“Filthy human brat!”

His hand came up again, aimed to strike. And something inside me snapped. I saw red. I moved before I even thought. The runes on my back burned hot, but they didn’t stop me.

I lunged.

My body collided with his, knocking him off his feet and into the wall. The breath went out of him in a surprised grunt. I landed hard, straddling his chest, fists already flying.

“You. Don’t. Touch. Him!”

My fist cracked against his cheekbone, the sound dull and wet. Again. And again. Blood coated my knuckles—warm, slick, righteous. His snarl turned to a grunt, then to silence. I didn’t care if he was breathing. He laid a hand on my boy.

Then—ice.

A hand closed around my throat. No warning. No footsteps. No sound. One second I was on top of the soldier, the next I was in the air, hoisted off him like a rag doll. My body slammed back against a cold, unyielding chest. Fingers, pale and long, dug into the sides of my neck—not squeezing, not yet, but owning. Possessing.

My boots kicked uselessly above the floor. The soldier belowme groaned, blood dripping from his nose, but no one looked at him. Not even his partner. They were all looking at the man behind me.

I didn’t need to turn to know what he was.

The air was wrong now. Thicker. Heavier. It vibrated with something ancient, dark, and hungry.

An Alpha.

Not one of the half-bred thugs that passed through on Crescent Moon patrols. No. This was something else. Something far worse.

Power rolled off him in waves—predatory, absolute. Every hair on my body stood on end, and I went still, the way prey does when it knows the predator is watching. But it wasn’t just fear.