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CHAPTER 1

S ilas

I didn’t have the patience to deal with this bullshit today.

The tension in the camp had been thick for days, but tonight, it was damn near suffocating. Even the wind that howled through the snowy mountain ridges couldn’t cut through the simmering hostility that hung between the two groups like a live wire.

On one side of the fire, my wolves—battle-hardened shifters, my pack, my family—stood like restless shadows, their eyes glinting in the firelight, every movement a little too controlled, a little too tense. They weren’t outright hostile, but they didn’t need to be. Their mere presence was more than enough to set the humans on edge.

Across from them, the human Resistance huddled closer together, keeping their weapons just within reach. They were survivors, but no matter how hard they tried to hide it, I could practically smell their unease. Wolves made them nervous; I didn’t blame them.

“Look, I’m not saying we shouldn’t work together,” Commander Sorin said, her arms crossed tight over her chest. “But your people need to understand that we don’t answer to you. We’re not your subordinates. This alliance doesn’t work if you expect us to take orders from wolves.”

A low growl rumbled from somewhere to my left. Jax, my second-in-command, shifted on his feet, his jaw clenched tight. “You’re in our territory, human,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “We keep you alive out here. A little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”

“Gratitude?” A human man named Dawson barked out a laugh. “That’s rich, coming from the same kind that’s been hunting us like animals for the last twenty years. We haven’t forgotten what your kind has done to us. Don’t expect us to start trusting you just because you’re supposedly on our side now.”

Jax took a step forward, and immediately, the humans stiffened, hands dropping to weapons. Knives, pistols, whatever they had within reach were suddenly at the ready. My wolves mirrored them instinctively, shoulders squaring, eyes flashing with warning.

Fuck.

This was how it started, first words, then posturing, then blood. I’d seen it happen a hundred times before and I wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.

“Enough,” I snapped, stepping between them. My voice cut through the growing tension like a knife, silencing the low growls and muttered curses. “We don’t have time for this shit. You don’t have to like each other, but if we’re going to survive through this mess, you’ll damn well learn to tolerate each other. Or you can take your chances on your own.”

I let that settle in the air for a moment before leveling a hard look at Dawson. “That goes for you too. You don’t have to trust us, but you will respect the fact that you’re in my camp.”

His mouth pressed into a tight line, but he gave a stiff nod.

Well… Good enough for now.

I turned to Jax. “Keep everyone busy. No more standoffs. If they have too much time on their hands, find something for them to do.”

Jax hesitated, then dipped his head in respectful acknowledgment. “Understood, Alpha.”

The humans slowly relaxed. The tension never fully faded, but I knew that it wouldn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever. At least for tonight though, no one was going to start a war in my camp.

That was the hope, at least.

Satisfied that things wouldn’t devolve into chaos the second I left, I turned and walked toward my cabin, exhaustion settling deep in my bones.

Shutting the door behind me, I exhaled slowly. The silence inside my cabin was comforting, but even here, I couldn’t escape, not completely.

I shrugged off my jacket, dropping it onto a chair, and sat on the edge of my bed. The mattress creaked under my weight, and I sighed, dropping my face into my hands.

Then, as it always did when the quiet settled in, my thoughts drifted to her .

Lia.

The little girl I’d rescued all those years ago.

I ran a hand through my hair and leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, letting the memories creep in.

I could still see her, standing in the ruins of that human Resistance camp just outside the old city of Denver. She had been such a little thing back then, no more than seven or eight, her clothes dirty, her face streaked with soot and blood. She hadn’t cried even though her world was falling apart all around her. Not even once. She had just stood there, fists clenched at her sides, staring me down like she was daring me to kill her myself.

She hadn’t begged me to let her go. She hadn’t run in fear of what I might do. She hadn’t done anything the other humans had done.

Instead, she had looked at me with eyes too fierce and way too defiant for a child her age, and I had hesitated.

I’d been sent there to put down an uprising, a direct order from my father. I had marched into the ruins of the old city with a unit of trained wolves at my back, the scent of smoke and blood already thick in the air. The humans had been fighting hard, like they were desperate, cornered. They knew they were losing, but they weren’t going down without taking as many of us with them as they could.

Orders were orders. Humans were the enemy. That’s what I’d been raised to believe. That’s what had been drilled into me from the time I was old enough to understand what war was. I was there to crush the last remnants of their resistance, to remind them that wolves ruled the city now, and that they always would.

But then I had seen her.

Just a kid, filthy and half-starved, crouched behind the burned-out frame of an old car, her wide eyes locked onto me. She should have been afraid, but she just stared at me, chin jutting out, like she was ready to fight me herself if she had to.

Something about her had made my stomach twist.

She was too young to be standing on a battlefield, too small to be here among the dying and the damned. Yet, there she was, and something in me wavered.

So I did the one thing I wasn’t supposed to do.

I spared her.

When I realized there was no human left to take her, I took her with me and I left.

We were on the run for a while; her, a scared, but stubborn little shadow at my side, and me, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with her. I had no idea how to take care of a human kid, but she had adapted quickly, never complaining, and never slowing me down. Still, I knew I couldn’t keep her for long. The wolves were already hunting me for what I’d done, so she wasn’t safe in my company.

So I had left her with a small group of human survivors hiding in the mountains. A couple of them, though fearful and wary, had agreed to take her in. She had watched me go without a word, just staring at me with those same damn defiant eyes of hers.

I had told myself it was for the best, that she would be safer without me.

But I had never stopped wondering about her.

What had become of that fierce little girl? Was she still alive? Did she hate me for leaving her behind? What did she think of me? Did she even remember me?

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly, but the past never let me go so easily.

I remembered the way she had looked at me that last night before I left her in that mountain hideout. There had been no tears, no pleading. Just quiet understanding, like she had already known, even at eight years old, that people didn’t stick around when things got tough.

I had wanted to tell her it wasn’t like that. That I was leaving her to keep her safe. That she wasn’t just another casualty in a war she didn’t ask to be part of. That maybe, someday, I’d come back for her.

But I hadn’t.

I had just turned, walked away, and never returned.

I had told myself I was doing the right thing, that if she stayed with me, she would never have made it past childhood. That I had spared her not just once, but twice.

Yet, all these years later, I still saw her in my mind’s eye, still thought about whether she had survived. Had she made it out there in the woods, even when the wolves had started rounding up the humans like cattle? What kind of life had she been forced into?

Had she ever forgiven me?

I let out a slow breath and rubbed a hand over my face. It was a useless line of thinking. The past was the past. I couldn’t change it, and after everything, after all the blood on my hands, I didn’t deserve to know what had happened to her.

I let myself sink deeper into the mattress, willing my mind to shut down. I was exhausted and needed sleep. I closed my eyes with a loud sigh and put her out of my mind so I could rest.

For the first time in a long while, I actually fell into a deep sleep, but it didn’t last very long.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The pounding at my door yanked me out of sleep like a gunshot going off right next to my head.

With a groan, I shot upright, my heart slamming against my ribs, instincts snapping to attention before my brain could catch up. My ears strained, catching the muffled voices outside, the shuffle of movement.

Something was up.

Another round of knocking—louder this time, more insistent.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Whoever it was, they weren’t going away.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair as I shook off the last remnants of sleep.

Jax’s voice filtered through the wood, rapt with urgency.

“Silas. You need to come out here. Now.”

I yanked the door open, cold air slamming into me like a punch to the gut. Jax stood on the other side, his expression carved from stone, his breath visible in the frigid night air.

“We caught someone sneaking around the perimeter,” he said without preamble. “A human woman.”

I stiffened. “Alone?”

Jax nodded. “No tracks leading in or out except hers. Either she’s the best damn scout I’ve ever seen, or she’s exactly what she looks like—someone stupid enough to think she could sneak past us.”

My stomach clenched. Humans didn’t wander up this deep into the mountains by accident. Either they were running from something, or they were sent. Neither option sat well with me, but I’d find out what it was, one way or another, before the night was out.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Main clearing. We tied her up, blindfolded her in case she’s a scout or a spy.” Jax’s lip curled. “Just so you know, she fought like hell. I doubt getting any information from her is going to be easy.”

I let out a slow breath and grabbed my jacket off the chair. “Let’s go.”

I followed him to the central campfire where my wolves stood in a loose ring, their faces painted with suspicion, their stances ready for violence if it came to that.

In the center of them was the intruder. She was standing, her arms pinned behind her back with rope. A blindfold covered her eyes, the cloth pulled tight across her face. Snow clung to her dark hair, her clothes ragged from travel, and her breath came in short, measured bursts. She seemed in control of herself, even now when she was surrounded by a camp full of wolves.

Something about her put me on edge.

Not fear. Not danger.

Something achingly familiar .

Possibly hearing someone new joining the group, or becoming aware of how the others stilled, she cocked her head. Even blindfolded and bound, she owned the space around her. Not in an obvious way, not in the way some women flaunted their beauty, knowing exactly the kind of attention they commanded, but in the way a storm settled over a mountain, quiet and irrevocably inevitable.

She was tall, her posture erect and effortless. Her body was built for movement, sleek and toned, with curves that weren’t soft and yielding, but strong, meant to endure. She had the kind of body that came from a life of running, fighting, and surviving.

And yet…

My eyes dragged lower, over the dip of her waist, the way her hips flared just slightly, the way her clothes clung to her frame in a way that shouldn’t have been distracting, but sure as hell was. She wasn’t delicate, but she was undeniably feminine.

Her lips—fuck, those lips—were slightly parted, like she was tasting the air the same way I was, her breath only slightly unsteady, like she was working to control herself, just as much as I suddenly was. The blindfold covered her eyes, but it didn’t matter.

She was gorgeous.

Not in the way most men would call beautiful. Not polished, not dainty, not something fragile to be placed on a pedestal. This girl wasn’t a princess to be coddled, but a queen to be worshipped.

She was the kind of beautiful that cut deep. The kind that made you want to reach out and touch it even when you knew it would draw blood.

My body responded before my brain could tell it not to.

Heat stirred inside me, twisting low in my gut in a way I hadn’t felt in years, raw and unbidden. My fingers itched to touch her, to pull that blindfold away, to see her—really see her.

But it wasn’t the time for that; not yet, at least.

I pushed the thought away and took a slow step forward, tilting my head as I studied her.

“You’re a long way from home, human,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Start talking.”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t even tense. If anything, I caught the slightest tilt of her chin as she cocked her head in my direction like she was bored .

“Funny,” she muttered. “I was about to say the same thing.”

Jax stepped forward, fists flexing. “You should watch your tone, girl. You’re not in a position to be mouthy.”

“Relax. She’s just testing us,” I said before he could get too worked up. I moved forward and stood in front of her, studying her closer. She was calm, too calm…

She didn’t react, but now that I was closer, I could hear her breathing—steady, careful, the breathing of someone who knew how to control their fear, and that nagging feeling of familiarity wound between my ribs.

“Who sent you?” I asked.

No answer.

“Are you with the Resistance?”

Nothing.

Jax growled, shifting impatiently. “We should put a knife to her throat; see if that loosens her tongue.”

“Try it,” the girl said, and there was something almost amused in her voice. “See how that goes for you.”

I shouldn’t have been impressed.

But I was.

Who the hell was this?

I reached out and gripped her chin, tilting her face slightly toward the firelight. A strange sensation passed through me as my fingers brushed her skin—wind-burned but soft, battle-worn but warm and alive.

And then she smirked .

A cold chill wormed up from the base of my spine. I knew that smirk. I just couldn’t place it.

I sighed and let her go.

“Untie her hands,” I ordered.

Jax’s head snapped toward me. “Silas?—”

“Do it.”

Reluctantly, Jax moved behind her and cut the rope. The second her wrists were free, she shook out her hands, rolling her shoulders and lifting her chin, the bold little thing.

Jax hovered behind her, tense, ready to grab her if she tried to bolt.

She didn’t.

The fire crackled next to us, throwing flickering shadows across her face, but she didn’t move to take off the blindfold either.

Something about that got under my skin.

Most prisoners—hell, most people —would have ripped the thing off the second they got the chance. But she just stood there, wrists now free, but hands resting loosely at her sides, like she was completely at ease. Like she wasn’t surrounded by wolves who could tear her apart in an instant.

That kind of composure wasn’t normal. It wasn’t natural .

It was so familiar.

Could it be her?

I clenched my jaw, pushing the thought aside. No. Lia was long gone, probably swallowed up by the city or still somewhere living in the forest. She wouldn’t be here, in my camp, captive and waiting for me to decide what to do with her. The chances of that were so close to zero that it wasn’t even worth thinking about.

Deep inside me, though, the same instinct that had told me to spare a little girl in the ruins of Denver all those years ago whispered that I was wrong.

I studied her, the way the firelight kissed her skin, the way her lips pressed together in defiance even now. There was a quiet, beautiful tension in the way she held herself—like a blade honed sharp over years of hardship.

Not fragile. Not delicate.

But fierce.

“Can I take off the blindfold now?” she said, a bit of a challenge evident in her tone. It made my wolf rise to the bait.

“You won’t like what happens if you do,” I warned, and she stood there for a second with her chin held high, but I heard her quick intake of breath anyway.

I’d gotten to her, and I couldn’t help but smirk right back at her.

My pack was still tense, still watching, but I barely noticed them anymore. The scent of burning wood coiled through the cold air, but beneath it, something else reached me then.

Her.

A warm, intoxicating scent, tempting and a little wild, laced with something unmistakable.

Desire.

It hit me like a lightning bolt to the chest, and I had to school my expression before anyone noticed the way my breathing changed.

She was aroused. Not in fear. Not in panic. But in anticipation.

I swallowed hard, my body tightening against my will.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I shouldn’t be thinking about how good she smelled. I shouldn’t be wondering what she would look like if I pressed my fingers beneath her chin and tilted her head back, forcing her to bare her throat to me. I really shouldn’t be fantasizing about what she might look like on her back as she writhed beneath me, coming over and over again as she took my knot deep in that needy little pussy.

I exhaled slowly, grounding myself. She was a trespasser. A possible spy.

My mind blanked out the second the breeze shifted, and I caught another wave of her scent, mingling with my own.

Fuck.

A low growl rumbled in my chest before I could stop it. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I fought against the rush of heat crawling up my spine.

I didn’t want to react like this, but her scent was seeping into me, threading through my blood like wildfire, latching onto something instinctual buried deep inside me. I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering.

All at once, I knew.

It slammed into me like a lightning bolt, fast and merciless, setting every nerve on fire. The realization hit with the force of a war drum, reverberating through every part of me, making the world tilt, making my wolf snarl inside my chest in brutal, unshakable recognition .

She wasn’t just some trespasser.

She wasn’t just another human.

She was my mate .

I took a step back, inhaling sharply through my nose, trying to shove it down, trying to fight the way my body reacted to her, the way my blood surged toward her like the tide being pulled by the fucking moon . My own arousal was rising to meet hers, low and slow like a fire smoldering in my gut.

No.

I tensed my muscles. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t me . I had control over my instincts, over my wolf, and yet, I couldn’t look away from her.

Did she feel it too? Did she know?

I forced myself to take another step back, raking a hand through my hair. I needed space. Distance. Anything to break this hold she had on me, but I didn’t want anyone else near her either…

“ Jax .” My voice was hoarse, rough. “Take her to my cabin. I’ll deal with her myself.”

The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

Jax hesitated, the look on his face incredulous. “ You? Since when do you personally handle prisoners, boss?”

I shot him a look that shut him up real fucking quick.

“Since right fucking now,” I countered, narrowing my eyes in his direction.

He exhaled through his nose with as much frustration as he dared, but eventually nodded, hauling her forward with a firm grip. She didn’t resist, but just before Jax could lead her away, she spoke, her lips curling slightly.

“Careful, Alpha,” she murmured. “I might be more than you can handle.”