Page 26 of When Two Worlds Collide (Fated Mates, Stubborn Hearts #1)

ZANE

T he scent hits me first—bear musk, dried blood, and something else. Death. Not the clean death of a hunt, but the rancid sweetness of massacre.

Twenty wolves fan out behind me as we crest the ridge overlooking River’s Edge. Ember paces at my right shoulder, her fire-bright fur catching moonlight. Through our new bond, I feel her rage like a second heartbeat. The settlement below us should be sleeping. Instead, screams pierce the night air.

We’re too late.

Not all of them, Ember’s thought brushes mine, fierce with determination. We can still save some.

I catch movement below—bears circling the settlement’s eastern quarter, driving terrified shifters toward the center like cattle. My wolves growl, eager for blood, but I hold them with a look. We’re outnumbered five to one. Rage won’t win this.

Then I see him.

Ridge Stormcrow stands in the settlement square, and even from this distance, his presence dominates.

Massive doesn’t begin to describe him—in human form, he towers over the cowering settlers.

Scars crosshatch his bare chest like a map of violence.

When he throws back his head and roars, the sound carries primal authority that makes even my wolves flinch.

This is what the council fears when they think of wild shifters. This is the nightmare they believe we all are.

Strategy? Ember asks through the bond.

Draw them out. Separate the warriors from those guarding prisoners. Hit and run until ? —

Stormcrow’s head snaps toward our position. His nostrils flare.

“Shadow Wolves!” His voice booms across the valley. “Come down, little puppies. Come see what real predators do.”

So much for surprise.

I shift to human form, gesturing for my wolves to hold position. Ember shifts beside me, and I feel the spike of protective fury through our bond. Less than a day mated, and every instinct screams to keep her from danger.

I’m not staying behind, she warns.

I know. I start down the slope. But let me talk first. Maybe ? —

“Talk?” Stormcrow laughs as we approach. Up close, he’s even more intimidating. Seven feet of scarred muscle and barely leashed violence. “The mighty Zane Blackthorn wants to talk? I heard you’d gone soft, taking a civilized bitch to your bed.”

Ember’s growl vibrates through the bond. I touch her wrist—steady.

“Let the settlers go, Ridge. Your quarrel is with Haven’s Heart, not farmers.”

“My quarrel is with anyone who builds walls on our land.” He steps closer, and I smell fresh blood on his hands. “Anyone who forgets what it means to be wild. Like you, apparently.”

His gaze shifts to Ember, and his nostrils flare. “Freshly mated. How sweet. Tell me, does she mewl prettily when you mount her? Does she?—”

Ember moves before I can stop her.

Fire explodes along her form as she shifts mid-leap. Not the controlled flames I’ve seen before, but an inferno that turns night to day. She strikes Stormcrow with claws of living flame, raking across his chest before dancing back.

He roars—pain and fury mixed—and shifts to bear form. Nine hundred pounds of muscle and claw charges after her.

Everything erupts.

Bears pour from buildings. My wolves leap from the ridge. Settlers scatter. And in the center of it all, my mate dances with death himself.

I’ve never seen her like this. The claiming has changed her, unleashed something primal. She moves like liquid fire, always a heartbeat ahead of Stormcrow’s massive paws. Where she touches, she burns. Where she strikes, she scars.

But she can’t face him alone.

I shift and launch myself at his flank, teeth finding purchase in thick hide. He spins, batting me aside like a cub. I hit a wall hard enough to see stars, but I’m already rolling, already attacking again.

Together, I tell her through the bond. Like the hunt.

We fall into the rhythm we learned in the forest. I drive, she strikes. I distract, she burns. But this prey fights back with calculated viciousness.

Around us, chaos reigns. Marcus leads a wedge of wolves against the bear guards, freeing settlers who flee in panic. Some bears break ranks, torn between following orders and escaping the fire panther who fights like something out of their darkest legends.

Then I hear it—cubs crying.

Three bear warriors have cornered a group of settler children against the meetinghouse. The adults who tried to protect them lie motionless nearby.

Go, I tell Ember. I’ll hold him.

She doesn’t hesitate.

The fire that erupts from her as she races toward the cubs makes her previous display look tame. She becomes a living meteor, streaking across the battlefield. The bear warriors see her coming and brace for impact.

They might as well brace against the sun.

She hits them in a wave of flame and fury. One bear’s fur ignites instantly. Another stumbles back, pawing at eyes seared by her brightness. The third manages one swipe before her jaws find his throat, fire cauterizing even as she tears.

The cubs huddle behind her, eyes wide with terror and awe as she stands between them and danger, wreathed in flames that don’t touch the children but promise death to any who approach.

Even some of Stormcrow’s bears pause, watching her with something like reverence. This is no tame shifter playing at civilization. This is elemental fury given form.

Stormcrow sees it too. For the first time, uncertainty flickers in his eyes.

“What are you?” he growls, circling me but watching her.

“She’s the future,” I tell him, blood dripping from wounds his claws left. “Wild and civilized. Primal and controlled. Everything you’re too stupid to understand. ”

He charges again, but halfheartedly. Around us, his forces are fragmenting. Some still fight, but others retreat, unwilling to face the fire panther who makes their chief hesitate.

“This isn’t over,” Stormcrow snarls, backing toward the forest. “You’ve chosen your side, Blackthorn. When I return with the full clan, we’ll see how your pet’s fire fares against true numbers.”

“We’ll be ready,” I promise.

He shifts to human form, that massive scarred body still intimidating despite his retreat. “The old ways are ending, pup. You can’t straddle both worlds forever. Soon you’ll have to choose—be wild or be nothing.”

“I’ve already chosen,” I tell him. “I chose both.”

His laugh is bitter as he melts into the forest, his remaining bears following.

And then silence, broken only by whimpers of wounded and crying of saved children.

I shift back, legs barely holding me. Ember races to my side, her flames dying as she shifts to human form. Through our bond, I feel her exhaustion, her pain from burns pushed too far, her fierce joy that we survived.

“The cubs,” she says, already turning back.

“Safe. You saved them.” I pull her against me, needing the contact. “You were magnificent.”

“We were.” She examines my wounds with gentle fingers. “But Zane?—”

“I know.” I look around at the devastation. Three of my wolves lie still. Seven more bear wounds that will take days to heal. “He’ll be back. With more.”

Marcus approaches, blood matting his gray fur. He shifts, face grim. “We held them, Alpha. But at cost.”

“Our dead? ”

“Toren. Sasha. Young Kai.” His voice cracks on the last name—Kai was barely past his first hunt.

Ember makes a soft sound of grief. Through our bond, I feel her pain for wolves she barely knew but fought beside. Already, she mourns as a pack.

“The settlers?” I ask.

“Fifteen dead. More wounded. But...” He looks at Ember with something like respect. “They saw her defend their cubs. Saw us bleed for them. Some are actually grateful.”

Small comfort against the losses, but something.

“Gather our wounded,” I order. “We need to?—”

“Alpha Blackthorn?” A trembling voice interrupts. A settler woman approaches, holding one of the cubs Ember saved. “I... we... thank you. Both of you. We thought all wild shifters were like them. But you proved different.”

Ember steps forward, still naked, still blood-streaked, still magnificent. “We’re all shifters. Wild or civilized, we protect our own.”

The woman nods, tears streaming. “The council needs to know. They need to understand—not all wild clans are the enemy.”

“They will,” Ember promises. She glances at me. We need to get word to Haven’s Heart. Tonight.

Agreed. But first ? —

First, we tend to our dead. Honor our wounded. Show this settlement that Shadow Wolves grieve their losses, that we’re more than the savages Stormcrow represents.

As dawn breaks over River’s Edge, I stand with my mate among the ruins, our bond still raw and new but already tested in blood and fire. We saved some. Lost others. Proved something that might matter more than either.

But Stormcrow will return. And next time, twenty wolves and one fire panther won’t be enough .

We’ll find a way, Ember says through the bond, her determination blazing as bright as her flames. Together.

Together. The word settles in my chest like a promise. Like a prayer.

Like the future neither of our peoples expected, but both might desperately need.