Page 11 of Craved by the Werewolf (Mystic Ridge Monster Mates #2)

THORNE

T he crowd's roar rolled over us like thunder the second we stepped into the light.

Vala's hand was in mine—her idea, not mine—and if the cheers got louder, I couldn't tell if it was for House Party or the fact that Mystic Ridge's favorite gossip target had just walked out holding hands with the Alpha.

I didn't care. Not right now.

Her skin was warm against mine, and she smiled slightly at the crowd's reaction. The lights were hot on my shoulders, the bass from the speakers thrumming through my chest.

She looked perfect—radiant in a flowing, black dress that hugged her curves before spilling into sheer, layered skirts that swirled with every step.

Silver charms winked from the belt slung low on her hips, catching the light like tiny spells.

Her blonde hair tumbled in loose waves, alive with glints of blue and violet under the shifting spotlights. My wolf liked the look far too much.

She slid her hand from mine, stepping forward to the mic like she owned the stage.

"Good evening, Mystic Ridge!" Her voice rang out clear and smooth over the speakers, earning an instant wave of cheers. "I'm Vala Nightingale — and this is your favorite Alpha, Thorne Kaine."

The crowd erupted, stomping and clapping. Some joker in the back howled, and half the wolves in the audience answered back.

Vala grinned, leaning into the moment. "We're going to raise the roof tonight, and more importantly, raise funds for Haven House — so let's start this party right."

She shot me a quick glance over her shoulder before turning back to the crowd. "Give it up for our first act — Vail Breakers!"

The band surged onstage, the first pounding chord cutting through the night. We stepped back into the wings together, the sound of the crowd still ringing in my ears.

Between acts, we retreated to the VIP tent—a canvas pavilion strung with soft amber lights, filled with people who thought "Very Important" was a personality trait.

Mika was the first to pounce. She swooped in with a grin and a glass of champagne, eyes darting to our still-linked hands. "Wow. Holding hands in public? Should I alert Ridge FM or just let the gossip column handle it?"

Vala smirked. "Don't act like you're not already posting."

"Please," Mika said, already thumbing her phone. "By the time you finish that water, the whole town will have opinions."

"An excellent start." Liam's voice cut in—crisp, measured, carrying that polished council cadence. He stepped forward from a small group near the back. "The crowd was engaged from the first word. Well done, both of you."

"Appreciate it," I said, giving him a short nod.

Lana slipped in beside him, her smile genuine. "You two were perfect out there. The energy's incredible, and donations are already ahead of projection."

That got Vala to smile — the real one, the kind she didn't give away freely. "Good. Haven House deserves it."

Mika thrust a bottle of water into Vala's hand. "Keep hydrating. You've got another introduction coming up."

I leaned down to murmur to Vala, "I'll be back before your next stage cue."

She arched a brow. "Patrol?"

"Always."

The bassline from Vail Breaker's closing song was still humming in my chest when I made it back to the wings. From here, I could see Vala already at the mic, ready to introduce the next act, pacing the stage like a predator.

"Alright, Mystic Ridge, I hope you're not getting tired on me," she called, her voice smooth and dangerous. "Because we're just getting started."

The crowd answered with a wall of sound—stomps, cheers, a few unfiltered howls.

From the corner of the VIP tent, Malrik tipped his chin toward the stage.

A ripple of magic shimmered through the air, subtle but unmistakable, and the lights shifted in a way no mortal tech could pull off.

A spotlight bloomed around Vala, wrapping her in a halo of silver-gold that made her dress flare like smoke around her legs. The crowd went wild.

Vala didn't miss a beat. She glanced toward the VIP tent — right at him — and smirked. "That all you've got?"

The lights answered with a playful pulse, perfectly in time with her words. I sent Malrik a look that promised we'd be having a conversation later. He only grinned, all teeth and trouble.

I stepped out into the lights.

Vala's gaze found me instantly, and without missing a beat, she reached out her hand.

I took it.

The reaction was immediate—louder than before, a tidal wave of noise that rolled over the stage. Whistles, claps, stomps, and another round of howls from the back.

"Your favorite Alpha's back," she told them, her voice dripping with mischief. "And he's here to make sure you're still awake for the next round."

I leaned into her mic. "Wouldn't miss it."

The cheer that followed was absurd — like they'd just been promised free drinks for life.

She squeezed my hand once before turning back to the crowd. "Coming up next — more strings than sense, and we love them for it. Give it up for The Sirens!"

The stage lights flared as the band swept on. We stepped back together into the wings, the noise still rattling my bones.

We'd barely cleared the stage when my comm crackled in my ear.

"Thorne," Raina's voice was tight, clipped. "Something's heading your way. I'm thirty seconds out."

My wolf surged to the surface instantly, hackles up. "What is it?"

"Not sure. Fast. Wrong scent."

I scanned the crowd beyond the VIP tent, the music from The Sirens a sharp, pulsing counterpoint to the sudden shift in my blood. Lights flashed over the sea of faces, but the movement I caught wasn't dancing — it was slicing through the edges of the crowd. Precise. Intentional.

"Keep it contained," I said, already moving.

Vala was a few steps ahead, weaving between guests as she aimed for the drinks table, her hair catching the stage lights. Too far from me, too close to the outer perimeter.

"Vala—"

The breach happened in a blink. Two figures in dark, fae-cut leathers slipped through the side opening, their glamour sparking as they crossed the ward line. They moved like knives, cutting straight toward the tent.

Malrik appeared in their path, his presence striking like a wall of heat and shadow. "Not tonight," he growled, voice edged with something older than the Ridge itself.

The attackers shifted, splitting — one for him, one for the gap he'd left open. It was fast.

And Vala was right in their path.

I didn't think. My wolf ripped free enough to twist my body into a half-shift, claws catching the light as I lunged. Chairs crashed out of my way, startled guests scattering.

The fae was three strides from her when I hit, the force of my shoulder sending him sprawling into a table with enough momentum to splinter wood. He snarled, rolling to his feet with a blade in hand.

"Stay behind me," I yelled to her, keeping my body between her and the threat.

She stepped back toward the safety of the tent, eyes locked on me.

The fae lunged, blade flashing. I caught his wrist mid-swing, claws digging deep until the weapon clattered to the ground. His glamour flickered under the stage lights, revealing pale, sharp-boned features twisted in fury.

I drove my knee into his gut, following with a shove that sent him crashing back into the table again. He was quick — but I was quicker, and my wolf was in full control.

Out of the corner of my eye, Malrik's opponent didn't last long. A pulse of heat rolled through the tent, the air shimmering like it might catch fire, and the fae crumpled to the floor in a heap.

"Yours?" Malrik called over, like we were discussing borrowed tools.

"Mine," I growled.

The fae in front of me slashed upward with a hidden blade, but I caught his arm, twisting until I heard the sharp pop of a dislocated shoulder. He hissed, teeth bared — and then he spat the words at me like a curse.

"This place is a sickness. You think peace makes you strong. It only rots the blood."

His voice was low but carried a weight you couldn't ignore. My wolf bristled, not just at the insult but at the conviction behind it.

Before I could demand more, Raina slid in, fast and efficient. "Want me to take out the trash?"

"Do it," I said, already turning back toward Vala.

She was still where I'd left her, half in the shadow of the tent, eyes locked on me. Safe.

By the time I reached her, Raina and Malrik had the intruders out of sight, the music from the stage still pounding like nothing had happened. Most of the crowd hadn't even noticed — and those who had were quickly distracted by Malrik's glamour haze, a subtle push to forget what they'd seen.

Vala's voice was steady, but her eyes gave her away. "I've never seen fae like that. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I took her arm, guiding her toward the deeper cover of the tent. My wolf wasn't settling down anytime soon.

Malrik emerged from the shadows, the last wisps of his magic curling away. "Ashen Accord," he said flatly. "Old fae bloodlines. They don't tolerate interspecies ties. They'll be back."

I had no doubt — shadow plays, disappearances — but never targeting Mystic Ridge. Until tonight.

I locked eyes with him. "Not if I find them first."

The rest of the night went on without another incident, but my wolf stayed restless. Security tightened, the crowd never knowing how close the night came to shattering. Vala kept her composure, moving through the event like nothing had happened. I stayed close enough to reach her in one breath.

By the time the last song of the set faded, Lana hurried in, flushed with triumph. "We crushed last year's numbers—record fundraiser before the finale."

That got Vala hugging her. And for a moment, the tension in my chest eased.

We stepped back on stage for the last act, crowd still roaring. Vala leaned into the mic. "Thank you, Mystic Ridge, for making this a night to remember. This is Nightingale... and the Alpha... slipping into the mist."

The crowd exploded.

We left the stage for the wings and cut through the VIP tent. Mika was waiting, phone glowing. "You're all over Glitter," she said. "Hashtag AlphaGoals is blowing up. And there's fan art. A lot of fan art."

Vala groaned. "Great."

Mika smirked. "You ready to head home? I can give you a ride?—"

"She's not going with you," I said, stepping closer, letting the crowd noise fade behind us. "You're coming with me tonight."

Her head tilted, eyes narrowing just enough to be dangerous. "That sounds less like a request and more like an order."

"It is."