Page 15 of Fated to the Lone Shifter (Curse of the Lunaris Alpha #1)

Chapter fourteen

The Mark of the Alpha

NOAH

T he night clung to me like smoke—thick, choking, impossible to shake. I woke up damp with sweat, her scent vanished.

My wolf reacted before I could form a thought, already lunging toward the door, toward the woods, toward her. I didn’t shift, not yet. I followed the pull, half-man, half-beast, driven by something ancient and raw. But I never found her.

Until I spotted her getting out of a black SUV, slipping back into the dorms like nothing had happened. She was safe. But a great deal had happened.

She had disobeyed me. And worse—she chose to.

Something inside me cracks. My breath hitches, tight in my chest, like a blow I never saw coming.

She lied. She left. She chose someone else—over me.

A pulse of heat rises in my throat, bitter and raw, and I clench my fists to stop the shake.

I don’t know which bothers me more—the danger she put herself in, what she was doing off on her own after that fiasco at the funeral service or the fact that she didn’t trust me enough to confide in me.

Now I can’t sleep.

Not because of everything that went down today.

It’s her.

Sera.

She’s under my skin. In my dreams. And now buried somewhere deeper I don’t dare name.

Her scent lingers in the women’s dorm hallway—ash, wildflower, and something untamed, like a spark of magic and defiance twined with longing. I can feel her eyes burning questions into my back from a hundred feet away, probably wondering what I'm going to do next.

And after what I saw on that body cam…I don't know.

Back in my office, I pace in the dark, the only light coming from the glowing blue screensaver flickering across my monitor. My thoughts twist like barbed wire—sharp, suffocating. That footage was real. And the thing in it? It was so much more than a rogue werewolf.

And it knew what it was doing. Maybe even who it was targeting.

My wolf growls low in the back of my mind, agitated, on edge.

I drag a hand through my hair and sink down at my desk. I’m about to scroll through the rotation schedules when a glint from the desk drawer catches my eye.

I open it.

The stone. The one Sera touched.

It’s humming.

Not audibly, but in my bones. A pulse. Like a heartbeat.

I pick it up and instantly smell her. Not just her soap or her skin. Her magic. Her essence. This isn’t just a rock—it's a connection between us.

The stone glows faintly, pulsing with a heat that seeps into my skin. My claws prickle like they're awakening, the sensation traveling up my arm like static. A low snarl slips from my throat—raw, involuntary, and possessive.

What the hell is she doing to me?

And why does every instinct in me want to burn the world down to protect her?

I close my hand around the stone, clutching it tight.

Answers. I need them.

And I need them before the next full moon rises… or before I lose control completely.

Because I can feel it now—just beneath the surface.

The curse. The bond. The burn. Is that what the rune on the rock was trying to protect against?

Either way, it’s all tied to her.

Sera. My probie. My weakness.

My mate.

Morning comes with a hot shower and a haunting. The body cam image loops behind my eyes. The massive black wolf. Standing. Intelligent. Dangerous.

There’s only one kind of creature that moves like that. And I know it well. But I don’t know exactly who…yet.

I scrub my face hard, trying to wash away the doubt, the fury, the heat rising in my chest every time I think of her out in the woods with that thing.

What if that had been the one that had attacked her?

Would we have been able to hold it off? Or would we be underground in caskets with Nicole right now?

I turn off the water and dry off with the towel, making my way back to my locker.

I spin the combination and open it. There’s the body cam.

Sera must have felt so desperate if she was willing to share its footage with me.

A glimmer of hope flies through my brain like an air tanker dousing one patch of a giant wildfire. Perhaps she is beginning to trust me.

I’m still angry with her though. Who was she meeting with? And what is she really up to? There’s still too many secrets between us.

Last night, I was too stunned to ask questions. Caught in her orbit and everything it stirred up in me. But today, I’m grounded again. Sharp. In control. It’s time to get answers.

I step into the firehouse kitchen and instantly regret it.

The smell of bacon and hash browns should feel comforting.

Instead, the cheery clatter grates on my nerves.

Marcus is back in full story mode, throwing animated gestures across the table, and the probies are eating it up.

Sera sits among them, cool and unreadable.

Too cool if you ask me.

She’s the first to break the banter.

“So… what did they find on the body cam, Marcus?”

Forks stop halfway to hungry mouths. The air shifts.

Marcus blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

“I saw you with it that night,” she says. Calm, but pointed. “I thought maybe the police told you something.” She tries to make it sound like a perfectly routine question. It isn’t.

Marcus hesitates, then shakes his head slowly. “Nah. Haven’t heard a thing.”

That’s a lie. He’s many things—smooth, charming, loyal—but not a good liar. Not to me.

I catch her eye and give her the briefest shake of my head. Not here. Not like this. But she’s already pulled the pin. Still, she gave me what I needed. Marcus had the cam. Now I just need to know who he gave it to.

After breakfast, I pull Marcus aside near the truck bay. The doors are cracked for ventilation, but no one’s around. “Did you turn the body cam into the police?”

He doesn’t answer right away. “I turned it into the authorities.”

“Which authorities?” I growl.

Marcus shifts, glancing around. “I can't say.”

“But you watched it. You saw the footage.” No answer. A silent yes.

“What did you see?”

He lowers his voice. “Weird shit, man. Real weird.”

I grab his arm. He breaks free.

“I can’t say. I promised.”

There's been a lot of promises made as of late. And each one piles more secrets on the fire.

I clench my jaw, glance back toward the kitchen. Sera’s leaning against the counter, pretending to listen to the television as she watches us out of the corner of her eye.

How did she even get the cam? The police had it—unless they didn’t.

“She promised.”

The phrase snakes through my thoughts. Who the hell is she making promises to? And why does it feel like every one of them pulls her farther from me?

No matter. I’ve got to clean this up before any of us burn for it. First step? Get that camera back into the Captain’s hands… without turning us all into suspects.

He’s already in the gear room, laughing too hard at some joke only he finds funny, while the other probies prep their packs for the morning drills.

I’m duly impressed with how quickly Marcus has been able to set his grief aside.

Now that the service is over, he is back to his old self it seems. Was it all an act?

I keep my distance, at first. But then I catch him watching Sera again—too long, too hungry.

My wolf stirs, bristling.

Not this again.

I step between them, almost on instinct. “Alright, everyone outside. Hydration check, twenty push-ups, then meet me by the hose rig.”

They scatter. Sera lingers a second, glancing up at me with those guarded eyes that always look like they’re holding back. She doesn’t say anything. Just gives me the smallest nod and walks off.

And I swear, I feel the sun get hotter.

Marcus slinks out last. I grab his shoulder before he gets through the door.

“You got something you want to say?” I ask, low enough so the others don’t hear.

He smirks, all teeth. He gives it a moment. “Nah, Benson. Just admiring your… leadership style.”

I narrow my eyes. “Keep your admiration to yourself. And your hands.”

His grin falters for just a split second. Then he shrugs and walks out.

I watch him go, jaw tight, blood humming. There’s something off about him. And it’s not just the way he looks at her—it’s the way he moved the night of the full moon. The way he reappeared after the attack with that camera like he’d been expecting the attack or had the camera all along.

I don’t trust him. And if he lays a single finger on her, I’ll gut him.

I head out to the field. Sera’s already got the hose over her shoulder, waiting for my instructions. She looks exhausted, but sharp—like a blade that’s been through hell and come out gleaming.

“Ready, probie?” I ask.

“Always,” she says, no hesitation.

My chest tightens again.

Goddammit.

This is getting dangerous.

For both of us.

By mid-afternoon, the sun’s baking the compound, and the drills are grueling enough to weed out the weak. Which is exactly the point.

I’ve had them hauling the hose line up and down the trail incline for the last hour, then back into a ladder climb and simulated flare-up containment. They’re soaked, smoked out, and ready to collapse.

And Sera? Still standing. Still locked in.

She’s pushing herself harder than anyone—ignoring thirst, wiping sweat from her brow with a grim set to her jaw, waiting until the last recruit has had their fill before even glancing at the cooler, refusing to quit even when her knees start to buckle.

I keep expecting her to break. She doesn’t.

She just resets and keeps going. The girl’s not human.

Correction: she’s not just human.

I call for a pause. She crouches in the shade near the tree line, pulling off her helmet, steam rising from her skin like she’s about to ignite.

“Probie,” I bark.

She looks up fast, waiting for a reprimand.

Instead, I toss her a protein bar and nod toward the water cooler. “Take five.”

She catches it without a word and drags herself toward the cooler, shoulders tense. It’s not just exhaustion—it’s nerves. Guilt. She’s been somewhere she shouldn’t have been. She’s holding something back. I can feel it crackling in the air between us like static before a lightning strike.

I stalk past the rest of the crew, eyes scanning for Marcus. He’s disappeared. Again.

Damn it.

Then I catch movement—just a flicker—in the corner of my eye. A faint trail of flame on the grass behind the tree line. Subtle. Almost invisible.

Unless you’ve seen it before.

My boots thud over the ground as I charge forward, stomping out the trail one step at a time. It snakes back toward the edge of the drill site.

She left it.

No one else noticed. But I did.

The burn pattern is faint, curling in a delicate arc like a fingerprint made of heat. It ends exactly where she’d crouched minutes earlier.

I glance back toward her.

She’s watching me now. Not even trying to pretend she isn’t.

We lock eyes, and I see the panic flicker behind her calm, even as her jaw tightens and her shoulders square like she’s bracing for a blow. She's not in control of her magic.

I cover the spot with dirt and stand, wiping my hand clean on my thigh.

No words. No accusations.

But she knows.

And now she knows I know.

This secret between us? It’s about to get a whole lot harder to bury.

The station’s back hall is quiet, lit only by the green glow of the exit sign and the hum of an old vending machine. Most of the crew is still out on assignment or passed out in the bunkroom. Perfect.

I move quickly, the charred video cam wrapped in an old cleaning rag inside my jacket.

Captain Greene’s office is cracked open just enough. I slip inside, heart steady, steps silent.

The evidence cabinet sits against the wall—locked. I pull the spare key from the lip of the fire extinguisher casing. He always hides it there. Old habit.

The cabinet creaks faintly as I open it. Inside, rows of plastic bins are labeled and numbered. I find the one marked Murder (Nicole) – Initial Response . It’s already half full with scorched debris bags and labeled photos.

I slide the camera in under a folder, adjusting the contents just enough to make it look untouched.

A boot scuffs outside.

I freeze. Breath held. Door still open.

But the footsteps pass.

I lock the cabinet, replace the key, and slide out just as the vending machine hum kicks back on.

Evidence returned. No questions asked.

At least, not yet.