Chapter 1
Garrick
The July evening heat beat down as I hammered the last tile into Shaya's sagging roof. Sweat rolled between my shoulder blades like hot oil. Only the Alpha of Black Pine got summoned for handyman duty, but Shaya had earned her favours since the ancient witch kept the worst of our moon-madness at bay with her poultices and wards. Without her, the pack would have torn itself apart generations ago.
“Are you done yet? I would've finished by now.”
I growled, but the retort died in my throat as a scent hit me. It was wildflowers and warm skin and something sweetly human beneath. My muscles locked. My canines ached, sharp as bone shards.
BREED.
Valor, the beast in my blood, surged forward with a snarl that vibrated through my marrow. The air thickened with her. She smelled like spring blooms, salt and something else. It was so potent that it burned my nostrils. It came from the mountain pass where hikers sometimes wandered. Close. Too close.
“Did you spray perfume, Shaya?” My voice came out ragged, my throat tight with the effort of holding back the shift.
The old witch's face split into a grin, her milky eyes gleaming like tarnished silver.
“What does it smell like, boy?”
I bared my teeth. “Like heaven dipped in sin.”
“You've caught the scent of your mate, fool.” She cackled, the sound like dry leaves crumbling. “Go on, then. Hunt.”
I leapt from the roof and froze. The scent was intoxicating-honey and wild thyme and the electric tang of her, but beneath it, there was no musk of fur. No iron-sharp bite of werewolf blood.
Human.
My stomach dropped. Lycans came from around the world to our compound, yet I got a weak human?
No. No, no, no.
My gums burned as my canines elongated, venom pooling thick and syrupy beneath them—laced with the moon's curse. Useless on a human during rut. No survival. Just agony.
And my seed? Worse.
Alphas didn't fuck gently. Our bodies were built to take, to knot so deep our mates screamed-not in pleasure, but in shock.
Human flesh wasn't meant to withstand that. She'd tear. She'd bleed.
She'd die with Valor's teeth in her throat and my cock locked inside her.
Pups? Impossible. Humans couldn't carry our young, not without the gene, not without the bite. We'd learned that the hard way centuries ago.
Valor snarled, the sound rattling my ribs like a second heartbeat.
BREED. TAKE. HURT. CLAIM.
The command ripped through my skull, white-hot and relentless. I clutched the porch railing, the wood splintering under my grip.
Shaya’s grin faltered. “What's wrong, boy?”
“She's human.” I hissed through clenched teeth. My jaw ached, saliva flooding my mouth. The urge to run and bite was like a live wire under my skin.
Shaya scoffed, waving a gnarled hand toward the cluster of cedar cabins nestled in the valley below, the pack's sanctuary, hidden from human eyes by her magic.
“And? You're Alpha of Black Pine. Strongest in this godforsaken nation.” She leaned in, her breath reeking of iron and old magic. “If the moon made her yours, she'll survive it. Or die trying.”
A growl ripped from me. It was conflicted, half protest, and half need. Valor lunged against my skull, howling.
