The forest was alive with whispers, the kind only those with heightened senses could hear. The full moon hung low, its pale light filtering through the thick canopy and casting silver streaks over the forest floor. Lyra ran, her breaths shallow but steady, her bare feet pressing into the cool earth. Her instincts screamed at her to stop, to retreat, but defiance was a fire that burned brighter within her. She wasn’t running away—she was running toward something.
The ceremony was supposed to be her rebirth, the moment she accepted her place as part of the pack. Instead, it had become a prison sentence. The elders had spoken of fate, of bonds stronger than the will of any wolf, but Lyra refused to accept that her life would be dictated by some mystical pull to a man she didn’t know—and didn’t want to know.
And yet, her wolf knew him. The bond had snapped into place the moment her eyes met his across the ceremonial fire. Alpha Ryker. The pack’s ruthless, dominant leader. The man whose reputation for power and cold authority had reached even her remote corner of the territory. He was everything she despised—arrogant, commanding, and worse, utterly unapologetic about it.
“Stop running,” came the deep, gravelly voice behind her.
Her heart lurched. He was close. Too close.
“I don’t take orders from you!” she shot back, quickening her pace.
“You do now, little Luna.” His words were a growl, low and menacing, but there was a wicked edge to them that sent a shiver racing down her spine.
Lyra spun to face him, her wolf clawing beneath her skin, ready to fight. Ryker emerged from the shadows, every inch of him exuding power. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair slightly disheveled from the chase, and his piercing silver eyes glowed with a predatory light. His presence was suffocating, magnetic, and impossibly infuriating.
“Stay back,” she warned, her voice steady despite the thundering of her heart.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You think you can stop me?”
Her wolf growled in response, and she let the sound escape her lips. “You might be the Alpha, but you’re not my Alpha.”
Ryker’s expression darkened, and in a flash, he closed the distance between them. He was fast—too fast. His hand shot out, gripping her wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make it clear who was in control. The heat of his touch seared her skin, and she hated the way her body reacted to it, a traitorous spark of electricity shooting through her veins.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low but resolute.
Lyra glared up at him, her chin lifting defiantly. “I’m no one’s.”
Ryker’s grip tightened just slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. “Fate doesn’t care what you want, Lyra. Neither do I.”
Her pulse quickened, not out of fear, but out of sheer fury. She yanked her hand free, taking a step back. “Then maybe I’ll change my fate.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest, and he took a deliberate step toward her. “Try, and see how far you get.”
The tension between them crackled like lightning, thick and volatile. Lyra’s wolf itched to submit, to bare her neck to her Alpha, but Lyra herself refused to yield. She met his gaze head-on, her amber eyes blazing with defiance.
“What do you want from me, Ryker?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
His smirk returned, but this time it was sharper, more dangerous. “Everything.”
The weight of his words settled over her, heavy and inescapable. She hated the way his voice sent a shiver through her, hated the way her wolf yearned for him despite her mind’s protests.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she whispered, her voice softer now but no less firm.
Ryker’s expression softened for the briefest moment, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Neither did I,” he admitted, his tone quieter, almost grudging.
That surprised her. She hadn’t expected honesty from him, hadn’t expected anything but dominance and control. For a moment, she saw something in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that disappeared just as quickly as it had surfaced.
“But here we are,” he continued, his voice hardening again. “And there’s no running from it.”
Lyra took a shaky breath, her resolve faltering. The bond between them was like a chain, pulling her toward him even as she fought to stay away. She could feel his presence in her very soul, a connection deeper and more primal than anything she’d ever known. It terrified her.
“I won’t make this easy for you,” she said finally, her voice steady once more.
Ryker chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent heat pooling in her belly. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Before she could respond, he turned and began walking away, his movements fluid and confident. He didn’t look back, but his voice carried through the stillness of the forest.
“Run all you want, Lyra. I’ll always catch you.”
Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched him disappear into the shadows, his words lingering in the air like a promise—or a threat. She stood there for a long moment, the night air cool against her skin, the forest silent once more.
The bond was real, undeniable, but so was the hatred simmering between them. Lyra clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. She would fight this, fight him, with everything she had.
Because if Ryker thought she would roll over and accept her fate, he was sorely mistaken.