“I come before you as I am,” I say, my voice steadier than I expected. “Just as the Moon Goddess shaped me. I cannot run with you as wolf, but I will see for you as seer. I cannot fight with claws, but I will protect with visions.”
The words feel right, flowing from some deep well of certainty I didn’t know I possessed.
“I am Kitara, mate to your Alpha, claimed and marked.” I touch the claiming mark at my throat, feeling Ryker’s power pulse in response. “And I pledge my gift, my loyalty, my life to the Shadowmist Pack.”
Silence falls over the clearing, heavy with judgment and decision. For a heartbeat that stretches into eternity, I wait—exposed, vulnerable, wondering if my words will be enough to bridge the gap between what they expected and what I am.
Then, from the edge of the circle, a howl rises—Lyra, the elder, her song carries the unmistakable cadence of acceptance. Another joins her—Elias, then Zella, then more voices I can’t identify until the clearing rings with their acknowledgment.
Not universal, not complete—I can see faces that remain silent, eyes that watch with reservation. But enough. Enough to begin.
The pack shed their clothing then Ryker steps forward again, standing naked beside me as the howls gradually subside. Pride flows through our bond, warming me from within.
“Tonight we run under the full moon’s blessing,” he announces. “Tonight we hunt as one pack, one blood, one purpose.”
He turns to me, his mismatched eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Are you ready?”
I nod, knowing what comes next. We’ve discussed it, planned it, but the reality still makes my heart race with equal parts nervousness and anticipation.
In one fluid motion, Ryker shifts. Where the alpha stood a moment before, now towers his massive wolf form—midnight-black fur rippling with silver highlights, shoulders level with my own despite my standing on the raised platform. His mismatched eyes—gold and blood-red—fix on mine as he moves to position himself beside me.
The gasps and murmurs from the gathered pack confirm what I already knew—this is unprecedented. The Alpha will carry his mate who cannot shift, rather than leaving her behind.
With practiced movements, I gather my dress and slide onto Ryker’s back. My fingers tangle in his thick fur, securing my position as he adjusts to my weight. Through our bond, I feel his satisfaction, his pleasure at this public display of our connection.
Mine, his thoughts reach me, clearer than they’ve ever been before.My mate. My queen.
He turns to face the pack, presenting us together—Alpha and Alpha Female, unified despite my inability to shift. Then, without warning, he leaps from the platform, landing with effortless grace despite my added weight.
The pack parts before us as Ryker pads to the edge of the stone circle. At some unspoken signal, the gathered wolves begin to shift—a wave of transformation rippling through the clearing until hundreds of wolves stand where humans had been moments before.
Lithia approaches in her wolf form—silver-gray withstriking white markings around her eyes, the same scar that marks her human face visible as a line of white fur down her muzzle. She bows her head to us before taking position at Ryker’s right flank.
Elias joins her, his russet fur gleaming in the moonlight, followed by the rest of his hunting unit. Zella’s wolf form is sleek and lithe, with unusual markings that remind me of dappled sunlight through leaves. She nods to me as she takes her place, eyes bright with excitement.
Ryker throws back his head and howls—a sound so powerful it seems to shake the very stones beneath us. The pack answers, hundreds of voices joining in a primal chorus that vibrates through my chest and echoes across the mountains.
Then we run.
Ryker leads the charge from the clearing into the forest beyond, the pack flowing around us like a living river of fur and fang. I cling to his back, the wind whipping through my hair as we race through the darkness. His powerful muscles bunch and release beneath me, carrying us effortlessly over fallen logs and rocky outcroppings.
I’ve never experienced anything like this—the speed, the freedom, the belonging. Through our bond, I feel Ryker’s wild joy, his wolf exulting in the run, in the night, in the pack that follows him. And beneath that, pride that his mate rides with him, that he can share this most sacred ritual with me despite my human form.
Ride me, my queen.
I lean down, pressing myself against him.
Like this?
He lifts his head to howl his approval.
We race along hidden paths, climbing higher into the mountains until we reach a ridge overlooking a vast valley. The pack gathers around us, breathing hard but vibratingwith energy. Below, in the moonlit basin, a herd of elk grazes, unaware of the predators watching from above.
Ryker turns his head, meeting my gaze with those mismatched eyes. Through our bond, I understand what he’s asking.
Watch. See. Guide us.
I close my eyes, reaching for my gift with the practiced control I’ve been developing. The vision comes easily—smoother, clearer than before—showing me the herd’s movements, the strongest prey, the best approach.
