Aylin's breath hitched as the door creaked open. The dim light from the cavern barely illuminated the interior, casting elongated shadows against the rough stone walls. Her fingers trembled as she instinctively reached for her silver pendant. She had been so careful. No one should have found this place.
But someone had.
The scent hit her first. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before—dark, deep, and endless, like the void of the night itself. It coiled around her senses, both foreign and oddly enticing. The scent of an alpha, but not like any she had ever known. It lacked the overbearing aggression that came with those who had sought to claim her before. Instead, it was something primal, something ancient.
Aylin stepped forward cautiously, her heart pounding as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. And then she saw him.
A man lay sprawled on the wooden floor of the small cabin, his massive frame partially illuminated by the dying embers in the hearth. He was unlike any alpha she had ever seen—taller, broader, his body scarred from what looked like countless battles. His bare chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, his skin slick with sweat. Strands of raven-black hair clung to his forehead, his features sharp yet hauntingly beautiful, even in unconsciousness.
Who was he?
Her instincts screamed at her to leave, to flee while she still had the chance. She had been running for so long, avoiding one danger after another. And yet... something rooted her in place. Curiosity? Or something far more dangerous?
Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, uneasy, alert. A rogue alpha, larger than any she had encountered, with a scent that wrapped around her senses like a whisper of fate.
She took another hesitant step, her gaze scanning his form for signs of movement. His muscles twitched, his breath hitched, but he did not wake up. Was he hurt? Did someone do this to him? The scent of blood lingered in the air, but it was faint, nearly lost beneath the overwhelming essence of the dark alpha himself.
Aylin's mind raced. She was supposed to be safe here. This was her sanctuary, her hiding place. If he had found it, then others could as well. But what if he wasn't a threat? What if he needed help?
She hesitated only a moment longer before kneeling beside him. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, close enough to see the faint rise and fall of his chest. Her fingers hovered over his shoulder before she dared to touch him, pressing her palm lightly against his burning skin.
The reaction was instant.
His body tensed, a deep growl rumbling from his chest, low and threatening. Aylin jerked her hand back, pulse racing, but he didn't wake. His brow furrowed, his jaw clenched as though he were locked in some internal battle. His scent thickened, filling the air between them until it was suffocating.
She needed to decide. Now.
Will she help him? Or will she run?
Aylin swallowed hard. Her instincts told her to protect herself and stay hidden. But another part of her, which she barely understood, whispered that this man, this rogue alpha, had not arrived by chance.
He was here for a reason.
And she needed to find out why.
She rose to her feet and took a cautious step back, giving herself space to think. Her fingers curled around her pendant, a familiar comfort against her palm. The cabin was small, with little more than a crude wooden table, a single chair, and a small old bed. It had been her refuge, her sanctuary. Now, it was shared territory.
A soft groan escaped the man's lips. His fingers twitched and his muscles flexed as if he were having a dream—or a nightmare. Aylin's breath quickened. Will he awaken soon? If he did, would he be a friend or foe?
She couldn't afford to take chances.
Moving swiftly, she retrieved a strip of cloth from a nearby chest. Her hands trembled as she knelt once more, pressing the fabric to his forehead. His skin burned with fever, his body slick with sweat. Whatever had happened to him, he had been suffering for some time.
His lips parted, and another low growl echoed throughout his chest, sending shivers down her spine. Then a faint word, which she barely caught.
"…"
Her blood ran cold.
She jerked back, the cloth slipping from her fingers. Her sister name. He had said her sister's name. But how? How could he possibly know it?
Her breath came in shallow gasps as she stared at him, waiting, hoping he wouldn't wake just yet. Panic clawed at her throat. She had never seen this man before in her life, yet he spoke her name as if he knew her.
She had to know who he was. It had to be just a coincidence.
Aylin forced herself to steady her breathing. She needed answers, and the only way to get them was to wait for him to wake. But she wouldn't be caught unprepared. Moving quickly, she found her dagger and slipped it into her belt before retrieving a small pouch of herbs from the cabin's corner. She had learned to treat wounds and fevers in secret, taught by an elderly healer who had once pitied her.
If he was dangerous, she would deal with him when the time came. But if he was a potential ally...
She shook her head. No. She couldn't think like that. She was on her own. She had always been on her own.
Minutes passed. Then an hour. The fire, she made, crackled softly, the warmth filling the small space. Aylin dozed lightly, exhaustion weighing heavy on her limbs, but she never let her grip on her dagger loosen.
Then, a sharp intake of breath.
Her eyes snapped open. The man's body tensed, his head shifting slightly before his eyes fluttered open.
Dark.
His eyes were darker than the night outside, endless pools of shadow that seemed to pull her in. His gaze locked onto hers, and for a long moment, neither of them moved.
Then he exhaled, his voice rough and strained. "You…"
Aylin braced herself, ready for anything. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart.
He didn't answer immediately. His lips parted as if to speak, but he hesitated, as if searching for words.