“Well, well... what do we have here? A little kitten trying to hide from the big bad wolves?”
Our pack’s most lethal enforcer towers over me, broad-shouldered and thick with muscle, a wall of violence barely contained by skin. His blond hair is cropped short, neat and orderly, a sharp contrast to the chaos he brings. He uses his bulk like a weapon, cornering, crowding, crushing.
His voice drips mockery, his presence pressing in. Kieran doesn’t just enforce pack law, he is the punishment. His steel-gray eyes lock onto mine with predatory focus, and I feel my throat go dry. When he smiles, it’s slow and sharp, full of teeth and threats.
“I’m not hiding,” I lie, lifting my chin despite my trembling legs.
His laugh is dark velvet. “No? You’re certainly acting like it, crouching here in the shadows, ready to scatter at the first sign of danger.” He leans down, bringing his face close to mine. “But we both know there’s no hiding, don’t we, Kitara?”
I can’t stop the shiver that runs down my spine.
“The ceremony begins soon,” he says, reaching out to brush a fallen leaf from my hair. The casual touch sends cold dread racing along my skin. The wolf within me bristles, but we both know she’s unable to protect me.
“I’d recommend finding a better hiding spot than this, kitten. Unless...” His smirk widens. “You want me to catch you.”
My stomach turns at his words. For the past few weeks, Kieran has been my constant shadow. He’s Alpha Varick’s chosen enforcer, tasked with keeping me in line. Every time I left my room, he was there. Every time I was forced to speak to a wolf from another pack, he appeared. He’s made it his mission to remind me daily that I belong to the Silvercrest Pack.
To him.
“Alpha Varick has chosen me as your mate,” he tells me, crowding me into the tree. “No more games, no more delays.” His fingers trace my cheek, and I see the cruel intent in his eyes. “I know how to make you behave, little seer.”
All will be well, my wolf says once more.A mate cannot harm you.
But I know better. I’ve seen the bruises on claimed females, heard the whispered stories of mates who view their bonds as ownership. A claiming mark doesn’t guarantee kindness.
Besides, I’m nothing but a broken wolf with little to offer a pack. I’ve always known my place. I’m the seer who can’t shift.
The vision flickers once more at the edges of my consciousness—blood, hot and crimson, a dark silhouette, eyes watching from shadows—I push it away before it can take hold. I can’t afford the weakness now, can’t risk collapsing in front of Kieran, and each vision has the potential to leave me bleeding and shaking for days.
I meet Kieran’s gaze directly, remembering the burning eyes from my vision. “What if you’re not meant to catch me?”
His expression darkens. “Who else will want you?” He laughs, but there’s an edge to it now. “You’ll learn your place soon enough.”
Before I can respond, a howl pierces the night—the signal for all females to take their positions. Kieran’s eyes flash amber as his wolf stirs just beneath the surface.
“Run well, little Kit,” he growls. “But know this—no matter where you hide tonight, I will catch you. I’ve seen how you move, how you think... and unlike the others, I know exactly what that pretty little head of yours can do. You’re mine, kitten. You just don’t know it yet.”
With those words hanging in the air between us, he melts into the shadows, leaving me trembling against the ancient oak.
If he catches me tonight, I’ll never be free.
Please, Mother Wolf. Help me.
I close my eyes, seeking calm. Instead, my earliest memory surfaces, my mother’s face crumpling in disappointment during my first attempted shift. While other pups exploded into fur and fang with pure joy, I remained stubbornly human. No matter how hard I tried, my wolf stayed locked away, just out of reach.
“Again,” my father demanded, his patience wearing thinner each time at my childish attempts. “Focus.”
But focusing wasn’t the problem. Even as a toddler, I could feel her, my wolf, coiled tight inside me, fierce and wild. I could sense her power, her heartbeat echoing mine. My wolf wasn’t silent. She spoke in instincts, howled behind my ribs when danger neared. She simply couldn’t shift. Her body—ourbody—wasn’t built for the change.
The healers called it a curse. The elders called it a weakness. Until I turned seven.
I breathe out slowly and step forward, feet crunching over dried pine needles. The air is thick with tension. Wolves gather, murmuring, waiting for the moon to rise and the challenge to begin. My stomach flips as I move through them, head high, spine locked tight with practiced calm.
They can smell my fear. Taste my difference.
But they don’t know the whole of it. Not yet.
The first time I saw death was in a vision.
