My fate wasn’t mine to see. It washisto claim.
Chapter
Three
Pain lances through my feet with each step, tiny rocks and broken twigs cutting into my bare soles. Every stride is agony, but I dare not slow. Ryker has shifted back into his massive wolf form, and moves beside me with liquid grace, his fur still wet with the blood of those who tried to claim me. Each time I stumble, his shoulder brushes my hip, steadying me. The heat of him burns against my naked skin like a brand, leaving bloody smears where we touch.
The claiming mark on my throat throbs in time with my racing heart, hot and raw. Ryker’s power thrums through my veins, foreign and overwhelming. It moves through me like a serpent, making my human form feel too small and fragile to contain it.
I suck in a deep breath, fighting to control the fear churning in my gut, but even the air comes differently, carrying his scent deeper into my lungs.
Moonlight spills through the ancient trees, painting silver patterns across Ryker’s scarred black coat. He stands taller than any wolf I’ve ever seen, his back level with my shoulders, his paws leaving impressions in the earth twicethe size of a normal wolf’s. When he turns his head to check our trail, muscles ripple beneath fur so black it seems to swallow the moonlight itself. The silver scar that slashes across his face catches the light, transforming from shadow to silver with each movement.
We return to the grove to find the air charged and heavy. The claiming circle hums with power, I can feel it vibrating through the soles of my feet, up through my bones, making my teeth ache. Torches line the ancient stones, their flames dancing in the wind, casting writhing shadows across the gathered wolves. The scent of blood, both fresh and ancient, rises from the earth, mingling with smoke and sweat and anticipation.
Other claimed pairs have already gathered, forming a crescent before the stone altar. The females wear their claiming marks proudly, pressed against their mates’ sides, most having shifted back to human form for the ceremony. Only the Shadowmist wolves remain in their beast forms, dark shapes lurking at the edges of the firelight like living pieces of the night.
Each step toward the altar makes me more aware of my nakedness, my humanity. I can’t stand proud like the other claimed females with their sleek wolf forms and easy shifts. I can only walk forward in this vulnerable shape, guided by the blood-stained monster who has chosen me.
The eyes of every wolf in the circle burn into my skin—judging, assessing, and finding me wanting.
“Step into the circle,” Grand Alpha Thaddeus calls, his voice resonating with power that makes the ground vibrate beneath my bloody feet. “Let your union be blessed by moon and pack law.”
One by one, the pairs approach. Each step is part of a dance as old as our kind. The males bow their heads, submitting to the Grand Alpha’s authority. The females bare their claiming marks for inspection, tilting their heads toexpose the vulnerable flesh of their throats. Thaddeus presses his fingers to the marks, infusing them with magic that binds the pairs for eternity.
I watch as Xavier Drake and his chosen mate receive their blessing, the magic visible as silver light wraps around them both like ribbons.
Then it’s our turn.
Thaddeus’s eyes narrow as we approach, his disgust a palpable thing that makes the air around us grow colder. “Shift, Alpha Ashmere. Show proper respect to the ceremony.”
The massive black wolf beside me goes still. Through our new bond, I feel his contempt. For a moment, I think he’ll refuse. Then his form begins to change.
When Ryker straightens to his full height beside me, his massive form subtly shifts to place himself between me and Thaddeus. It’s not an obvious movement—nothing so blatant as to appear defensive—but the positioning is deliberate. He stands with his scarred shoulder slightly angled forward, creating a barrier of flesh and muscle that would absorb any attack before it could reach me. Through our new bond, I feel no fear in him, only calculating vigilance and a cold readiness to unleash violence at the slightest provocation.
“Fascinating,” Thaddeus’s cold voice cuts through the tense silence. “I see you still wear your beast’s savagery even in this form.”
Ryker’s laugh is low and dark, a sound that sends shivers across my spine. “Better a beast than a puppet,” he says, his teeth flashing. “At least I haven’t forgotten what we are beneath our civilized masks.”
Thaddeus ignores the jab. His cold gaze sweeps over me, then returns to Ryker. “You claimed the seer? You, who once swore to rebuild the strength of your pack, but you choose a mate who can’t shift?” His voice carries across the grove, clear and cruel.
I shrink into myself, aware that even though I’m claimed, we have yet to be bound. Ryker can still reject me as his mate, leaving me without a hope for a future.
Thaddeus shakes his head. “An alpha needs a strong partner. One who can lead beside him. Fight beside him. Your lack of judgment, Alpha Ashmere, is... disappointing.”
There’s a stirring in the wolves around us, a tension that threads through the gathered.
They smell blood.
Thaddeus’s gaze lands on me. “You would ask your pack to bleed for you, to trust you with their lives, and you choose this? A broken wolf with a gift she can’t properly wield?” He shakes his head, feigning pity. “Perhaps the Shadowmist Pack should ask itself whether its alpha is fit to lead it at all.”
Ryker’s laugh is sharp and dangerous. “If so concerned about her weakness, why allow the seer to run in the ceremony at all?” His question cuts through the Grand Alpha’s posturing like a blade. “If she’s such an affront, why would she draw alphas from five territories to hunt her? Why would you—as the one responsible for the good of all—not simply declare her unfit for claiming before the run began?”
Thaddeus’s face tightens almost imperceptibly, but I see it—the flicker of calculation behind his righteous anger.
“Or perhaps,” Ryker continues, his voice a silken threat, “you did want her claimed—just not by me. Perhaps you had another in mind, one who would be more... compliant with your demands for her gift and her offspring.”
The temperature around us plummets. Ryker’s hand finds the back of my neck, his fingers pressing possessively against his claiming mark. The touch sends jolts of electricity through my body, his power flooding my system in a rush of white-hot sensation.
