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THREE

MAYA

"This is either career-making or career-ending," she muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the cramped bed in her research van.

She dressed quickly in her practical clothes—worn dark hiking pants, navy thermal shirt, and her lucky army-green field jacket with a multitude of pockets. Her fingers traced over the small wolf embroidered on the collar, a gift she'd given herself after receiving her PhD.

"Today's the day I find you," she whispered, whether to the embroidered wolf or the shapeshifter from her footage, she wasn't entirely certain.

She finished packing her field kit methodically—notebook, pencils, small specimen containers, compass, high-resolution camera, water, protein bars, and the small silver pendant her grandmother had pressed into her palm years ago with those cryptic words about the deep woods.

Maya had always dismissed it as superstitious nonsense, but today, the pendant felt important somehow.

The hike took longer than anticipated. By the time she reached the clearing where she'd set up the motion-activated camera that captured that strange man, golden morning sunlight filtered through the trees. Nearly 9 AM—later than she'd planned.

"What the hell?"

The camera lay in pieces at the base of the tree, clearly destroyed with purpose rather than by accident or animal. Maya knelt beside the fragments, picking up the shattered lens.

"Someone really doesn't want to be on camera." Her scientific mind cataloged the destruction, while a small voice whispered that perhaps her grandmother's warnings held more truth than she'd credited. "Was it you, wolf-man?"

For the next hour, Maya scoured the clearing, methodically documenting every irregular mark, every broken twig, and every footprint that might tell her something about the visitor who'd destroyed her equipment.

The scientist in her remained clinical, but something deeper, more primal, sent occasional shivers up her spine despite the warming day.

Finding nothing conclusive, she ventured deeper into the forest, compelled by a strange certainty that answers lay ahead. The scientific part of her brain tried to convince her that the footage must have a rational explanation—a hoax, perhaps, or a trick of the light. But she knew what she'd seen.

As she walked, last night's dream resurfaced unbidden—a vivid fantasy of silver-blue eyes and strong hands. A dream-kiss that had felt so real she'd woken with her lips tingling.

"Focus," she chided herself, her cheeks warming. "No time for ridiculous fantasies when there's literal werewolves to study."

After several hours of hiking, Maya froze.

Through the trees, nestled among natural formations that camouflaged their presence, she spotted what appeared to be homes.

Not the rough cabins of off-grid enthusiasts, but impressive structures that somehow blended perfectly with their surroundings.

Further along, a larger building stood with people outside of it—people who moved with a fluid grace that immediately struck her as familiar.

Maya slipped behind a large pine, notebook in hand, and began documenting their movements. The way they communicated with subtle head tilts and body postures. The clear hierarchy evident in how they interacted. The territorial way they patrolled the perimeter.

"Those aren't human behaviors," she whispered, excitement making her hands tremble as she sketched a quick outline of what appeared to be a security or medical center. "That's pack behavior."

One particular man caught her attention—tall, broad-shouldered, and commanding. The others clearly deferred to him with subtle nods and gestures that Maya recognized instantly from her years studying wolf packs. An alpha, in a human body.

"Impossible," she breathed, even as the evidence mounted before her eyes.

She pushed a branch aside for a better view, becoming completely transfixed by the display of wolf pack dynamics in human form.

Her fingers itched to document every interaction, and every subtle head tilt and body posture that confirmed her wildest theories.

This was it—proof of something revolutionary.

The crack of a twig behind her came a millisecond before a large hand clamped over her mouth. A muscular arm wrapped around her waist like an iron band, pinning her against a rock-solid chest.

"Don't move. Don't scream." The voice was low and commanding—a rumble that vibrated through her back where it pressed against his torso.

Something electric shot through Maya's body at the contact—a jolt that started where his skin touched hers and radiated outward in waves of heat.

It wasn't fear, though fear certainly pulsed beneath it.

This was something primal, something her body recognized even if her mind couldn't comprehend it.

Instinctively, she turned her head slightly to glimpse at her captor, and her breath caught.

Silver-blue eyes—bright, almost luminous—bore into hers from a face sculpted with harsh angles and shadowed by dark stubble.

A jagged scar ran from his right temple to his jaw, somehow enhancing rather than detracting from his fierce attractiveness. Recognition slammed into her.

"You're him," she whispered against his palm. "The wolf."

His eyes narrowed, flashing brighter. "And you're the camera woman."

The heat lingering in her veins transformed into panic. This man—this creature—had most likely destroyed her equipment. What would he do to the woman who'd witnessed the start of his transformation?

Maya drove her elbow back hard into his ribs. He grunted but didn't loosen his hold. She stomped on his instep next, twisting to create leverage, and managed to break free enough to spin and land a solid punch to his jaw.

"Damn it," he growled, his eyes flashing electric blue. "You'll bring the entire patrol down on us."

Rather than escalating, he somehow moved with liquid precision, catching her mid-swing on her second punch. His fingers encircled her wrist, and that same inexplicable current raced up her arm. Maya gasped, momentarily disoriented by the sensation—like recognition on a cellular level.

"What are you doing to me?" she demanded, hating how breathy her voice sounded.

His expression shifted, revealing a flash of confusion that mirrored her own before hardening again. "I'm not doing anything. Yet."

With supernatural speed, he pulled her against him, one arm locked around her waist while the other reached into his jacket pocket.

Maya struggled, simultaneously terrified and fascinated by the inhuman strength in his hold—a hold that, despite its firmness, seemed carefully calibrated not to hurt her.

"I can't let you expose us." His breath was warm against her neck, his voice almost regretful. "I'm sorry about this."

A sharp sting in her neck made Maya jerk. "What did you—" Her tongue suddenly felt thick, her thoughts fuzzy at the edges. "No fair... I had... questions..."

As her knees buckled, he caught her with surprising gentleness, sweeping her up into arms that felt bizarrely safe despite everything.

Maya fought the encroaching darkness, desperate to stay conscious.

The world tilted as he began walking, carrying her deeper into the forest, away from the settlement.

"You're... really strong," she mumbled, her scientist's brain still cataloging data even as consciousness slipped away. "Fascinating muscle... density..."

The last thing she registered was a rumbling chuckle against her cheek and those silver-blue eyes looking down at her with an unsettlingly complex emotion.

"Rest now. We have much to discuss when you wake up."

The forest canopy blurred above her as darkness claimed her completely.

Consciousness returned to Maya in stages, her senses waking before her mind caught up.

First came a woodsy scent—pine, cedar, and something wild and masculine that tugged at a primitive part of her brain.

Next, the rough texture of handwoven blankets against her skin.

Then, the dull throb at the injection site on her neck.

Her eyelids slowly fluttered open to find herself in a small bed tucked into the corner of what looked to be a one-room cabin.

Maya's throat felt like sandpaper, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth as she tried to swallow.

The lingering effects of whatever sedative he'd used made her head swim when she attempted to sit up.

Outside the small window across the room, darkness had fallen completely. Stars glittered in a velvet sky unimpeded by light pollution. Six, maybe seven hours since her capture, she calculated, noting the moon's position. Her scientific mind continued functioning despite her predicament.

Maya scanned her surroundings methodically.

The cabin was simple but not uncomfortable—more like intentional minimalism.

A small kitchenette occupied one corner with basic appliances and a wooden counter.

The living area consisted of a worn leather sofa, a rug that looked handwoven, and a stone fireplace where embers glowed.

Bookshelves lined one wall, surprisingly full.

Not what I expected from a werewolf bachelor pad , she thought, the absurdity of her situation hitting her. A small hysterical laugh bubbled up in her chest which she quickly suppressed.

Her gaze caught on a half-carved piece of wood abandoned on a side table, the knife beside it gleaming in the low light. Tools of his human side. How fascinating. How terrifying.

That's when she noticed him.

He sat in a leather armchair positioned strategically between her and the cabin's only door, those extraordinary silver-blue eyes watching her with predatory intensity.

In the dim light cast by the dying fire, shadows accentuated the sharp planes of his face.

He hadn't moved or spoken—just observed her with unnerving focus.

His legs were spread wide, claiming space with the unconscious dominance of an apex predator.

One hand rested on the armrest, the fingers long and powerful, while the other held a small wooden figure he'd been carving.

His black henley stretched across his chest, revealing the muscular physique that had so easily overpowered her in the forest.

A frisson of something that wasn't entirely fear traveled up Maya's spine.

The surreal reality of her situation crashed over her. She'd been kidnapped by a shapeshifter—a biological impossibility according to everything she'd ever been taught. She should be terrified and planning her escape right now. Instead, her mind buzzed with questions, observations, and hypotheses.

What's your body temperature when you're in human form? Is the transformation painful? Do you maintain human consciousness in wolf form? Is it genetic or viral? Are there others besides the ones I saw?

Questions piled up behind her lips, but she bit them back. First, she needed to understand her situation. Was she a prisoner? A threat to be eliminated? Why bring her here instead of simply killing her in the forest?

Maya glanced toward the door, calculating distance and probability. As if reading her thoughts, his posture shifted subtly—a silent warning. His eyes flashed brighter for an instant, reminding her that she wasn't dealing with a normal man.

This was the predator she'd spent her career studying—just wrapped in human packaging. Dangerous, unpredictable, and utterly fascinating.