Rafe's words were once a source of comfort. Of strength. Now, they're a knife. One of those serrated ones with the weird little hooks at the end. When you pull them out, they destroy everything.
How quickly those sentiments changed when faced with his true mate. How easily I was discarded, all our shared moments rendered meaningless.
Tears blur my vision as I push through a thick patch of undergrowth. Thorns slice over my skin, but I barely feel the sting. It's nothing compared to the pain tearing through my heart.
I emerge into a small clearing. No trees overhead. No creepy shadows. Just silver-blue moonlight resting against impossibly lush grass, unmarred by dead leaves.
It's unnaturally perfect here.
In the distance, a wolf howls. No matter how many years I've lived with this pack, the sound always sends a chill down my spine. Primal instinct, Alpha always said.
How many times had I stood beside Rafe, watching in awe as he shifted and added his voice to the pack's song?
Now, that howl holds no wonder, no beauty.
Just bitterness and pain.
I rub my hands over my arms, a futile attempt to generate warmth. My teeth chatter as I stumble forward, eyes darting around the eerily perfect clearing. Something about this place feels off, but I can't put my finger on why.
Have I been here before? The grass, untouched by fallen leaves, gleams silver-blue in the moonlight. It's beautiful, but wrong. Unnatural.
A frown tugs at my lips. This forest is my home—or was. I've explored so much of it with Rafe. But I have no memory of this place.
If only it were daylight. The sun would guide me, even with my poor sense of direction. I could find my way back so easily then.
A twig snaps.
My head whips up, heart leaping into my throat. The unnatural silence presses in, suffocating. No insects chirp. No night birds call. Even the wind seems to hold its breath.
Something moves in the shadows.
I freeze, eyes straining against the darkness. Another rustle. Closer now.
And then—
Oh. God.
A massive wolf emerges from the treeline. No, not just massive. Colossal. Monstrous.
I've seen Alpha in his wolf form. I've admired Rafe's powerful build. This creature dwarfs them both. It could swallow Rafe's wolf in a single bite. How could it even hide among the trees? It's impossibly large.
Midnight-black fur absorbs the moonlight, as if the very essence of shadow clings to its pelt. But there—a faint blue glow pulses beneath, like veins of starlight.
My breath catches. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure the beast can hear it.
This isn't possible. Wolves don't get this big. They don't glow.
I blink hard, certain I must be hallucinating. Maybe I hit my head. Maybe I'm lying unconscious in the forest, and this is all some fever dream.
The wolf takes a step forward. The ground trembles.
Not a dream, then.
I should run. Every instinct screams at me to flee. But my legs won't move. I'm rooted to the spot, caught in the creature's gaze.
Its eyes. God, its eyes. They burn with an intelligence far beyond any animal I've ever encountered. Even the shifters in their wolf forms don't have eyes like this. They're like storm clouds, gray and turbulent.
Ancient. Knowing. Powerful.
