Chapter 1
Dane
The intruder’s scent hits me three seconds before the alarm screams through my skull.
Female. Wild honey and knife-sharp citrus with something else beneath it—something that makes my wolf surge forward, clawing for control. Something wrong. Off.
Half-fae. In my territory. Uninvited.
I’m moving before the thought fully forms, abandoning my patrol route for the enhanced speed that made me useful as Viktor’s Hunter. Boots strike frozen ground as I follow the scent trail deeper into Ash Hollow’s territory, my body moving faster than any normal wolf could manage. She’s fast—whoever she is—but she’s not trying to hide her tracks. Either she’s arrogant or she wants to be found.
Both possibilities piss me off.
The ward network screams again, sensors tripping in sequence as she moves through the forest. East boundary. Then south. Now cutting back toward the heart of our territory like she owns the fucking place.
My wolf presses against my skin, demanding shift, demanding hunt. I hold him back by sheer will. Better to corner her in human form first, then decide if she lives long enough for questions.
I cut through the pine grove, using terrain I know better than my own heartbeat. If she keeps this trajectory, she’ll hit the clearing near Raven’s Rock. Dead end. Nowhere to run except through me.
The scent gets stronger. Fresher. Close enough that my wolf goes insane beneath my skin, something primal and possessive clawing at my control.
What the hell—
I break through the treeline, and there she is.
Pressed against the ancient ponderosa at the clearing’s edge, chest rising and falling hard. Five-six, maybe. Every line of her coiled tight. Ready. She shifts her weight like she’s calculating distance to the nearest exit—or the fastest way through me.
Her hair’s dark with weird violet streaks that catch the moonlight wrong, too perfect to be natural. Something glints silver near her temple. Braids, maybe. One strand hangs in her face like it doesn’t give a shit about gravity.
Her eyes hit me like a punch—violet that shouldn’t exist in nature, flecked with gold and glowing faintly in the darkness. Fae eyes. Predator eyes.
She’s not cowering. Not begging. Just watching me with that unnerving stare, completely unbothered by the fact that a pissed-off Alpha just cornered her.
“You’re trespassing.” My voice comes out rougher than intended, part growl, part command.
She tilts her head, studying me like I’m the one who doesn’t belong here. “Your wards are intact, Alpha. I didn’t break them.”
Her voice doesn’t waver. Doesn’t drop in pitch. She meets my stare without blinking, chin level. Like getting cornered by a territorial Alpha is just another Tuesday night.
“That’s impossible.” I step closer, using my height to crowd her space. Most wolves would bare their throat. She doesn’t even blink. “Nothing crosses my boundaries without triggering every sensor we have.”
“Nothingbreaksyour boundaries,“ she corrects, something almost like amusement flickering across her features. “I never said I didn’t trigger them.”
Rage flares white-hot in my chest. She walked into my territory knowing it would set off alarms. Knowing I’d come hunting. Like this is some kind of game.
I move faster than humanly possible, closing the distance until there’s barely a breath between us. My palm slams against the pine tree beside her head, bark biting into my skin.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t snap your neck right now.”
Her scent hits me full force at this distance—honey and citrus and something wild that makes my wolf howl with desire. Every breath pulls her deeper into my lungs, and my body responds like she’s calling to something I buried years ago.
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t press back against the tree. Just meets my stare with those impossibly violet eyes, lips curving in the barest hint of a smile.
“Because someone’s been pulling your pack’s strings for months, and your wolves are about to tear each other apart.”
The words hit like ice water. The increasing tension among the pack. The fights that escalate too quickly. The way trust seems to evaporate the moment someone raises their voice.
“Bullshit.” But even as I say it, something deep in my gut recognizes the truth.
