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REYES

T he night seems to hold its breath when it happens.

At first, I don’t know what it is. It’s like a ripple through the air, something primal and electric that sets every nerve in my body on edge. I freeze in a forest clearing, closing my eyes and tilting my head, focusing all my senses. The sounds of the forest come alive around me: the hoot of an owl, the relentless drone of cicadas, a cricket chirping in the underbrush. Somewhere close, a small creature scurries away, its instincts screaming predator.

But that’s not what I’m listening for.

I sift through the sounds, the smells, the vibrations in the air, searching for something I can’t yet name. It’s faint, almost imperceptible, but it’s there—a presence, a flicker of something wild and new.

And then I feel it.

Joy. Pure and unfiltered, wild and radiant, like moonlight breaking through the Celestial Curtain. Hope, fierce and unrelenting, surges through me, and I know. She’s free.

I open my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest, and the wolves around me sense the shift. They fall into a loose circle, waiting for my command. Grant and Frankie are at either shoulder, their hackles slightly raised as they watch me. Mateo lingers behind us, his ears swiveling toward every sound. Peaches stays near the rear with Charlotte and Elijah, the three of them poised and ready, their movements cautious but steady.

I send out the command, sharp and clear. Go home.

I feel their hesitation ripple through the pack bond. They don’t understand what’s happening. They don’t know what I know, can’t feel what I feel. Tilda’s joy and determination radiate through the bond, unmistakable and vivid, like sunlight piercing through a storm. She’s close—so close. She’s hit the edge of the woods, moving fast, desperate to escape.

I have to reach her.

Go! I command again, more insistent this time.

The wolves hesitate for only a moment longer before they obey, one by one melting into the shadows. Even Frankie, who lingers at my shoulder like she’s considering ignoring me, finally growls softly and turns away. I watch her vanish into the trees, her white fur blending with the moonlit forest.

The clearing falls silent again, save for the sounds of the night. The air is charged with tension, every instinct screaming at me to run, to find her, to make sure she’s safe. If this is a mistake, if she’s not free or if something’s gone wrong, I’ll never forgive myself.

But I trust the bond.

I lower my head, sniffing the air, and there it is—her scent. It’s different now, wilder, tinged with something new. Something wolf. It calls to me like nothing else ever has, pulling me forward with a force I can’t resist.

She’s free.

She’s coming.

And I’m going to meet her.

I race toward where I sense Tilda, faster than I’ve ever run in my life. My heart is in my throat, my lungs pumping air to the rest of my body. I feel stronger already, like she’s already having an effect on me.

I need her. I need my mate.

The edge of the Celestial Curtain looms ahead, painting the forest in red. My rut surges when I feel her cross it somewhere to the west. I follow her trail, honing in on her like a sixth sense.

I scent her, then—on the tall grasses at the edge of the forest, blackberries and leather dripping from the leaves of live oaks and willows. Her scent is heady and intoxicating, drowning me in delirious desire.

And then…she howls. I didn’t just sense her freedom.

I sensed her wolf, finally unleashed.

This is real.

It’s happening.

I should have known my warrior queen would save herself.

I finally see her, and my heart soars. There’s a wolf on the other side of the clearing–green eyes flashing, a coat of silken, tawny brown. She’s loping toward me, breathless. I can feel her body like we’re living in the same skin, the whisper of grass beneath her paws, the way the wind whips through her hair.

I can smell her heat. The full moon is working its magic.

We won’t make it home tonight.

I watch as she shifts seamlessly from wolf back to human form, gloriously naked and bathed in moonbeams. She’s still sprinting, coming face to face with me in a heartbeat. “Reyes!” she gasps, flinging herself toward me. I’m shifting before I even know what I’m doing, taking her into my arms, kissing her and kissing her. She rakes long, sharp nails over my shoulders, finding the healing wound just to the left of my heart, where I was shot in the shoulder.

Her bite is a few inches above it, my saving grace.

“I knew you weren’t dead,” she breathes, touching me all over like she’s making sure I’m not a figment of her imagination.

I duck my head against her neck and inhale her scent, frustrated that I’m not inside her already. I’m still trapped in wolf brain, unable to use my words. When I do speak, her name pours out like holy water.

“Tilda,” I sigh. “Tilda.”

I need to be with her in body and mind and heart. She seems to sense my desperation—to feed off it, give into it, and she tilts her head. My lips are on my mark, my tongue running across her collarbone and making her whine with need.

“It isn’t…safe…” she gasps. Her actions don’t match her words. She’s wrapping her legs around me, kissing me hard. “Need shelter.”

I pull back from her, gazing into her eyes. “I won’t be separated from you again,” I say, more like an affirmation than anything else.

She kisses me hard, sucking my tongue into her mouth, and against my lips she whispers, “Then run with me.”

She shifts…and she’s taken to it so naturally I can barely keep up.

I’d thought I was ready for her. I’d thought I could anticipate her movements, that the bond between us would allow me to guide her through the primal instincts tearing through her mind. But Tilda has always been unpredictable, and the wild glint in her eyes before she bolts confirms it.

She’s running.

Her sleek wolf form barrels through the underbrush, powerful and unrestrained. I barely have time to react before she vanishes into the shadows, her fur a blur of deep bronze under the fractured moonlight. The sound of her paws pounding against the earth resonates through the woods, her new form still clumsy but driven by sheer will.

The thrill of the chase hits me like a tidal wave.

I let out a growl and surge forward, my own form shifting effortlessly. My limbs elongate, claws bursting from my fingertips, fur rippling across my skin. My senses sharpen, her scent cutting through the dense foliage, and I launch myself after her.

She’s fast, but she’s new to this. She doesn’t yet know how to pace herself, how to let the rhythm of the moon guide her. Her movements are frantic, darting left and right, trying to throw me off, but I’ve been a wolf long enough to know her tricks before she even tries them.

She’s not running from me. Not really.

She’s testing me.

Teasing me.

I push harder, my paws digging into the earth, the wind roaring past my ears. The forest blurs around me as I close the distance between us, her scent growing stronger with every stride. She leaps over a fallen log, her movements more graceful than I expected, but her landing falters, and it’s enough for me to catch up.

I’m on her.

I lunge, my body colliding with hers in a tangle of fur and claws. We roll together, the impact sending us both tumbling through the underbrush. Branches snap, leaves scatter, and the forest seems to hold its breath as we come to a stop in a clearing, surrounded by wildflowers.

I shift back first, pinning her beneath me with my hands braced on either side of her head. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her green eyes wide with exhilaration and defiance as the transformation ripples through her again.

We’re both panting, the bond between us thrumming with an electric intensity.

“You ran,” I say, my voice low, ragged. “You made me chase you.”

Her lips curl into a smirk, and she reaches up, her fingers tangling in my hair. “And you caught me.”

Her pulse thrums beneath my touch, her scent mingling with mine, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “You’re mine now.”

I kiss her hard and Tilda moans against my lips, clutching my shoulders. I lower my hand to press between her thighs and I find her dripping for me, her cunt clenching and begging for me.

I’ve never given into my rut before. I’ve always fought it off, keeping careful composure so I wouldn’t break my vows.

Not tonight.

Never again.

I move away, Tilda trying to keep me close, but I snarl and grip her by the hips. In one motion, I turn her around, then I drag her up to her hands and knees. Tilda lets out a ragged breath, arching when I run my claws down her spine. My knot is swollen almost to the point of pain, urging me to take her here and now.

In the pure, unfiltered moonlight, I know this could be nothing but divine. Her hourglass form in silver, her hair falling in long chestnut curls until they kiss the blades of grass below her.

I’m going to knot her until she screams, here in the grass. I’ll mate her for hours…for days.

I’ve lived a whole life without her, and I’ll be greedy with all the days—the years, the decades—we have left.

She’s babbling nonsense by the time I finally align myself with her core, rubbing the head of my cock against her slick entrance. I push inside her completely, unable to play games or tease—not tonight, in the moonlight. With no resistance whatsoever, my knot slides in as well, locking me within her until I’m buried.

I roll my hips, finding her pliant and needy. Her inner walls clench around me, dragging me somehow deeper.

I hold her by the waist as I slam into her again and again, filling her up. Tilda falls to her elbows, clawing at the earth, her skin gleaming under the night sky. She’s just as beautiful as the first time I saw her—more so, desperate for my cock. She looks over her shoulder at me with hungry green eyes, and I give her more.

I come, filling her until my seed drips down her thighs. But my knot doesn’t relent, and neither does my desire. I keep going, hard, fast. My rut won’t allow me to stop. I reach forward to tug on her breasts, reveling in how it makes her core flutter around me in a powerful orgasm.

I fall into a cycle of waxing desire, completion, repeating. It doesn’t seem to stop. The more I fuck her, the more I want her, our sweat-slick bodies becoming one.

How could this be anything but a blessing? For something to feel so right has to be divine. I worship at the altar of her body, using my ability to pleasure her in a wordless prayer.

And the stars shine.

And the moon sets.

My mate and I howl together until sunrise.