Page 5

CHAPTER 4

LUCAS

B y the time the sun dips below the ridgeline, I’ve had just about enough of everything.

Sophia. The Windriders. The council’s useless, hollow reassurances. The fact that my own damn wolf won’t shut up about something I don’t even want to think about, much less act on. Well, I do want to act on it, but fucking Sophia McKenna wouldn’t solve a thing and would create a whole other set of problems.

Storming out of the lodge, I slam the door behind me, needing space, needing air, and ignoring my older brother. Bad enough to ignore family, but he’s alpha of The Nightshade Pack and gets pissy when he gets ignored. The lodge is the pack’s headquarters. It’s a massive timber and stone structure nestled into the mountain, and has always been and felt like home. Right now, it just feels like a goddamn prison.

I hear Ryder following me out onto the porch and calling to me. "Don’t go too far," he warns anyway, his voice even. "Whatever’s out there—it’s getting bolder."

What am I? Twelve? I don’t bother responding. My boots pad over damp earth as I make my way toward the tree line, stripping off my shirt and tossing it over a low-hanging branch. My boots and jeans follow, kicked aside as the cool mountain air prickles over my bare skin.

Then, I let go and my wolf rushes forward. The shift takes me fast. Energy pulses through my body, electricity surging through every nerve, the air ripping apart around me as the mist swirls thick. My human form dissolves into something more, something primal. The mist thickens, crackling with light, the sound of distant thunder rolling through my bones. Then—release, and the mist dissipates and all four paws hit the ground.

My wolf shakes itself out, powerful and steady, fur standing on end as my instincts sharpen to their highest edge. The world around me changes—sounds stretch, scents intensify, every detail clearer, crisper, closer.

My wolf takes off without hesitation, muscles bunching, paws kicking up dirt and leaves as I streak through the forest, leaping over fallen trees and other obstacles. The ground flies beneath me, trees blurring past in streaks of green and gold, my body moving with an effortless power that only comes in this form.

This is what I need. No expectations. No endless questions I don’t want to answer. Just the wild, the rhythm of my stride, the wind slicing through my fur as I push faster, harder, farther.

But even here, my thoughts won’t be quiet.

Sophia McKenna. Even her name unsettles something in me. She’s reckless. Arrogant. Stubborn as hell. She plays by her own rules, and worst of all—she doesn’t seem to care that she’s in my way. She challenges me, and my wolf likes it.

That’s the problem. My instincts have never betrayed me before. I’ve always known what’s right, what’s necessary. But now? I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do.

I push forward, my paws hitting stone as I move higher into the mountains, beyond the usual Nightshade borders. The air up here is colder, purer, the scent of pine strong enough to ground me, but my wolf isn’t searching for grounding. It’s searching for something else.

The unease tightens in my chest, an unfamiliar restlessness curling through my gut. What the hell am I looking for?

My claws scrape over the rock as I slow, my breathing steady, my ears pricked for any sign of movement. The forest is alive, full of quiet sounds—small creatures burrowing, birds shifting in the trees, the distant trickle of a stream.

But beneath all of it, there’s something off. A pulse, faint but steady, tugging at the edges of my awareness. I don’t like it. I don’t understand it. And yet, I follow it. I move deeper into the valley, further away from the lodge. My wolf is tracking something—something that shouldn’t feel like home.

The mountains stretch wide and endless around me, the ridgeline cutting through the sky like a jagged scar. The pull hasn’t lessened. If anything, it’s getting stronger, tugging at my instincts, making my muscles coil with a restless energy I can’t shake. The wind shifts, carrying something familiar.

Sophia—the scent of her, a mix of storm-laced air and wild earth, lingers on the wind. My wolf stops, ears pricking forward, instincts sharpening like the edge of a blade.

I don’t think. I lift my head and let out a howl—long, deep, ringing through the valley with a force that sends birds scattering from the treetops. It’s a call I shouldn’t have made, and yet, almost immediately, an answer rises from the other side of the ridge—Sophia.

Her howl differs from mine, higher, laced with a challenge, an edge of something almost teasing, almost daring. My wolf stills completely, listening, every instinct locked onto that single sound.

Then, I move. My paws hit the ground hard as I launch forward, tearing up the earth beneath me, racing toward the ridge, toward her. A vibrant rush of green and gold blurs past, the wind a roaring symphony in my ears as I ascend, primal urges overriding my conscious thoughts.

I crest the ridge just as she steps into the clearing below. Sophia’s wolf is smaller than mine but just as strong, built for speed and agility, her fur a sleek silver-gray that gleams under the moonlight. She moves with the kind of confidence that dares the world to try to stop her.

She knew I was coming. She is waiting for me. We stand at opposite ends of the clearing, watching, waiting.

The pull between us is undeniable, stronger in this form, more instinctive. Something ancient and unrelenting thrums beneath our standoff. I shake my head, trying to dispel the dizziness, the buzzing in my brain. It can’t be. I won’t let it be.

She moves first—a slow step forward, calculated, testing. I lower my head, eyes locked on hers, matching each of her steps with one of my own. We circle one another, wary but unable to walk away.

The wind shifts again, carrying our scents between us, mixing in the space we haven’t yet closed. They seem to swirl together, almost as if they are embracing. My wolf’s instincts scream to take control, to dominate, to make her yield.

I have a gut feeling that could hurt—one or both of us. I doubt she’s ever yielded to anyone. She moves closer, brushing the edge of my personal space, her tail flicking behind her, ears twitching in curiosity. It’s a test—one I refuse to fail.

I growl low, a warning. She huffs out a breath, amused, and then does something I don’t expect. She lunges. Not an attack, at least not entirely, but a push, a challenge. Her teeth snap at my shoulder, not drawing blood, but demanding a response.

Giving her one, I strike back, faster, stronger, knocking her off balance just enough to send her skidding slightly in the dirt. She recovers instantly, spinning back toward me, eyes flashing.

She’s not afraid; she’s enjoying this. The realization slams into me hard, shaking something loose in my chest. She’s playing with me. Testing me. Just like she does in human form.

And my wolf? It wants to play back.

She charges me again, this time faster, and I let her get closer before I make a countermove. We crash together in a blur of fur and snarls, a battle for dominance neither of us seems eager to win or lose. She’s fast. She’s smart. She moves like she’s been fighting her whole life, like she knows exactly how to adapt, how to keep up.

But I’m bigger, stronger. I use it to my advantage, catching her mid-lunge, pinning her briefly beneath me before she twists out of my grasp, escaping by the thinnest margin.

We break apart, panting, circling again.

Her eyes meet mine, burning with something I know I reflect in my gaze.

Recognition. Something deeper than instinct. Something we’ve been ignoring.

For a moment, neither of us moves. The wind howls through the trees, stirring the tension in the air, the heat between us thick and crackling like a live wire.

I should walk away. I should leave her here, go back to my pack, pretend this never happened. Instead, I take another step closer… so does she.

Sophia and I circle each other, two predators caught in a moment that neither of us wants to break. Her wolf watches me with sharp, burning eyes, her muscles coiled, poised. She should have run. I should have let her or walked away on my own. But neither of us seems to be able to. We stand on the edge of something dangerous, something neither of us is ready to admit.

She flicks her tail, watching me carefully, her wolf’s body angled just enough to keep me guessing. A challenge. My wolf tenses, instincts clashing in my head, but before I can decide what to do, she moves—fast. Not toward me, but past me.

She bolts toward the trees, paws kicking up earth, her silver-gray coat flashing in the moonlight. My wolf reacts before my mind can catch up. I give chase.

We streak through the forest, cutting through the undergrowth, dodging between trees, our bodies weaving in and out of the shadows. It’s not a fight. It’s something else. Something just as primal, just as wild.

Running together.

Sophia is fast. She moves like a creature built for the hunt, sleek and agile, slipping through the trees like the wind itself. But I’m bigger, stronger, and when she veers left, trying to gain distance, I push harder, closing the gap.

Her scent wraps around me, electric and alive. She glances back, eyes gleaming in the dark, and lets out a low, teasing growl. She’s playing with me. Daring me to catch her.

My wolf answers the challenge. I lunge forward, driving my paws into the earth, propelling myself toward her. She laughs in the way only a wolf can, quick and sharp, darting just out of my reach.

She likes this. So do I.

We race through the trees, chasing each other through the night, neither one of us willing to stop, neither one of us ready to end whatever this is.

The moon hangs heavy in the sky, bathing the valley in silver light. We move in sync, our strides aligning, our instincts pulling us closer and closer to something we shouldn’t want but can’t deny.

This is dangerous. This is a mistake. I don’t care; neither does she.

The mountains open up before us, the sky bleeding from black to deep blue, the first hints of dawn creeping over the ridgeline. We slow, our pace easing into something steady, something natural.

Sophia’s wolf glances at me, her ears flicking forward, the energy between us humming with something undeniable. We stop at the edge of a clearing, standing side by side, our breath heavy in the crisp morning air.

A silent truce.

A moment neither of us is willing to break.

Then, without warning, she moves.

Mist curls around her form, wrapping her in a cocoon of storm-lit energy, lightning flickering through the dense fog. The crackling swirl lasts only a few seconds, and when it clears, she stands before me—human again.

Naked.

Her hair is loose, tumbling over her shoulders, her sharp eyes locked onto mine like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do. Waiting to see if I’ll follow suit. I do.

The shift wraps around me, swallowing my form in a haze of thunder and light, my body reforming, my senses snapping back into human focus.

The second the mist clears, I’m standing before her, bare, exposed, nowhere to hide. Silence stretches between us, thick with everything we aren’t saying. Her gaze drifts over me—not in embarrassment, but curiosity, acknowledgment.

She doesn’t look away. Neither do I.

She lets out a slow breath, lifting her chin. "You going to just stand there, Stone?"

I should tell her that whatever the hell this is, it doesn’t change a damn thing. I should remind her she’s still a Windrider, that I’m still Nightshade, that our packs have never neem allies, but the words won’t come. Instead, I hold her gaze, my jaw tight, my instincts still snarling.

Sophia’s lips curl slightly, but there’s no humor in it, no tease. Just understanding.

She shakes her head, grabbing the bundle of clothes she must have left nearby. "Thought so," she murmurs as she turns away.

I reach out, grab her wrist, and drag her to the ground, grappling with her until I pin her beneath me. She can't move, but she doesn’t struggle. I keep her wrists trapped in one of my hands, pinning her arms above her head. Her body stretches out beneath me—slick with sweat and need and exposed to the cool night air. A low growl vibrates through my chest before I mark her with slow, wet kisses, drowning her in my scent.

"Lucas, this is a bad idea..."

“I don’t care.”

The scent of her arousal is overwhelming. I’m aching for her and she’s wet, ripe and ready for me. I hold her down, spreading her legs as I settle between them, pressing the head of my cock against the entrance to her core. I don’t push in and chuckle as she whimpers in frustration.

She arches her hips, silently pleading, but I hold her still. I’m stronger than she is, unyielding, and all she can do is surrender. Her scent surrounds me, my weight holding her down. She hisses as I run my hands over her, every part of me caging her in.

When I finally push inside, she moans in abject pleasure. I’m well-endowed and my cock stretches her pussy, but her body takes mine in greedily. She needs to be filled, and I need to fill her. Her walls clench around my length, pulling me deeper.

I give her little time to adjust before I start to move powerfully within her. I need this… need her. The forest fades around us, my world narrowing to her heat surrounding me. Sophia goes limp, surrendering completely.

My eyes close. Every thrust is harder than the last, reducing us both to pure sensation. My thrusts turn rough, desperate until I give a final thrust and her body clamps down on me, holding me tight as I empty myself deep inside her—flooding the ache, soothing the need. Pleasure crashes over me, raw and consuming, ripping a primal howl from my throat.

The heat fades. The desperation ebbs. Satisfaction takes its place, deeper and more fulfilling than anything else. I roll from her, but before I can pull her close, she moves away, calling forth her she-wolf before grasping her sweater in her jaws and charges off.

How the fuck can she do that? I’m fucking spent. I let her run… let her think nothing had changed. We both know differently.