Her writer’s brain was spinning, sentences half-forming, images stacking on top of one another. She wasn’t just going to write about this—she was going to writefrom inside it. Raw, honest, without the safe distance of pure fiction. It was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure because there would be nowhere to hide.
She soon pulled into the narrow drive outside her cabin and quickly parked her car, unbuckling her seatbelt and planning how quickly she could get to her laptop before the feeling faded. The creative fire was burning bright and hot, and she needed to capture it before?—
The piece of paper taped to her front door caught her eye.
Her heart stuttered as she approached the door and pulled it off, then began racing for entirely different reasons. The handwriting was careful, familiar in a way that made her skin crawl. A direct quote from her bestselling novel, written in precise block letters.
The Alpha did not claim his mate by force. He waited. And when she finally chose him, he knew the world had just become more dangerous—for them both.
The forest seemed to lean in around her, the morning quiet suddenly oppressive. Her hands shook, and one name echoed through her mind like a death knell.
Tyr Grodin.
He found her.
FOURTEEN
RUNE
The scent of Electra still clung to his uniform after she drove away. Rune inhaled deeply as he crossed his driveway, savoring the memory of how she’d looked in his kitchen that morning, drowning in his black t-shirt with her legs bare and her hair wild from sleep.
His beautiful mate.
Claimed in every way that mattered but not marked yet. He’d held himself back from that final binding, knowing she needed time to choose the mate bond willingly. But the claiming had been absolute. The way she’d reached for him across his dining table, the desperate hunger in her kiss, and the trust in her eyes as he’d laid her down on that same table and thoroughly cherished her.
Everything had shifted between them in that moment. What had once felt impossible now felt inevitable. Just a matter of time and patience.
His wolf purred with deep satisfaction as he approached his cruiser. The morning stretched ahead with routine patrol calls and paperwork, but underneath it all hummed the steady awareness of their connection. She was making her way back to her cabin now, probably already lost in whatever creative firetheir night together had sparked. The thought made him smile—his fierce, brilliant mate channeling their passion into her art.
The sound of another engine cut through his contentment.
Rune’s hand stilled on the cruiser door handle as tires crunched over gravel. The black SUV that rolled to a stop in his driveway carried a presence that made his wolf surge instantly to attention—sharp, aggressive, and unmistakable.
Birch Fen.
The peaceful morning shattered like glass.
Rune didn’t bother feigning surprise or summoning false courtesy. He’d known this confrontation was inevitable from the moment Electra had stepped into his territory. Birch’s network of informants was too extensive, and his obsession with Rune’s perceived weaknesses too deep. The only question had been timing.
The driver’s door opened with deliberate precision, and Birch unfolded from the vehicle like a predator emerging from shadow. Six-foot-two of calculated menace, shoulders squared beneath a black leather jacket, and ice-blue eyes already burning gold at the edges. The scar across his right cheek caught the morning light—a souvenir from their last physical altercation three years ago.
“What brings you by today?” Rune’s voice came out flat, devoid of warmth.
The air between them thickened instantly. Alpha dominance pressed against Alpha dominance, invisible but brutal, like atmospheric pressure before a storm. Rune felt his wolf rise closer to the surface and let his own eyes flash just enough to remind Birch exactly who owned this territory.
Birch’s lips curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You’re getting careless these days.” He skipped pleasantries entirely, his tone carrying the kind of casual menace that preceded violence. “Letting a human this close to you. Lettingher spend the night.” His gaze flicked meaningfully toward the cabin. “We all know what’s happening here.”
“Careful.” The single word emerged as a low growl, vibrating with barely contained threat.
But Birch didn’t back down. If anything, his stance grew more aggressive, chin tilted in challenge. “Everyone is watching, Rune. Noticing. They’re getting uneasy about this little fling you’ve developed.” His voice held the weight of false concern, the kind wolves used when they wanted to appear reasonable while delivering ultimatums. “Tradition exists for a reason, Alpha. Humans weaken us. Especially human female romance writers. You’re compromising your judgment for?—“
Rune moved.
One second Birch was standing beside his SUV, radiating smug confidence. The next, he was slammed back against the vehicle with enough force to dent the door, Rune’s forearm braced across his chest, teeth bared in a snarl that was pure wolf.
The transformation was instantaneous—civilized sheriff to apex predator in the space of a heartbeat. His wolf was right there now, hot and furious beneath his skin, demanding blood for the insult to their mate.
“Say one more word,” Rune growled, his voice vibrating with barely leashed power, “and you won’t leave this cabin on two feet.”
