The night was too damn quiet. Kael crouched at the edge of Crestwood, a sleepy human town that reeked of asphalt and cheap coffee.
His pack, the Silverfangs, didn't come here unless they had to, too many eyes, too many risks. But the rogue werewolf tearing through their territory had bolted this way, leaving a trail of blood and broken livestock. Kael wasn't about to let it reach his borders again.
His boots sank into the mud as he scanned the empty street. Neon signs flickered, casting a sickly glow over shuttered shops. His wolf paced inside him, restless, claws scraping at his control. The rogue's scent-sour, like rotting meat, was faint but fresh. It was close.
"Spread out," Kael growled to his enforcers, his voice low enough to blend with the wind. "Find it. Kill it."
Rhea, his second, gave a sharp nod, her silver braid glinting as she melted into the shadows with the others. Kael stayed put, nostrils flaring. The rogue's trail led toward the town square, but something else hit him, a scent that didn't belong. Warm, like honey and cedar, with a kick that made his chest tighten. His wolf snarled, slamming against his ribs. What the hell?
He shook it off. No distractions. Not tonight.
The rogue had already killed two of his scouts last month, and the pack was baying for blood.
As Alpha, failure wasn't an option. Kael straightened, all six-foot-five of him coiled like a spring, and followed the rogue's trail down a narrow alley.
The scent grew stronger-both the rogue's and that other one, the one that made his pulse hammer. It wasn't human, not entirely, but it wasn't wolf either. He gritted his teeth, forcing his focus back to the hunt. The alley opened to a dimly lit street, where a single shop glowed against the dark: Moonlit Brew, a coffee joint that looked one bad day from closing.
Kael froze. The rogue's scent stopped here, mingling with that honey-cedar pull. His eyes narrowed on the shop's foggy window. Inside, a girl moved behind the counter, wiping it down with a rag. She was maybe twenty-two, with chestnut hair tied in a messy bun, strands falling over her face as she worked. Her apron was stained, her sleeves rolled up, and she hummed something soft, oblivious to the world.
His wolf roared. Mate.
No. Kael's fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. The word was impossible. Silverfang law was carved in blood: no human mates.
They were weak, a threat to the pack's strength, their secrets. But as he watched her, those quick hands, that flicker of a smile—his body betrayed him. His blood burned, every instinct screaming to cross the street, claim her, protect her.
He stepped closer, boots silent on the pavement. The glass door was cracked open, letting her scent flood out. It hit him like a drug, drowning the rogue's trail. His wolf clawed harder, demanding. He caught her name tag in the window's reflection: Lena.
Lena. The name felt right, like it belonged in his mouth. She glanced up, not at him but at the empty shop, her hazel eyes catching the light.
They weren't just human eyes, there was something else, a spark he couldn't place. His wolf didn't care. It wanted her now.
A crash snapped him out of it. Across the street, a trash can toppled, metal clanging against asphalt. Kael's head whipped toward the sound. The rogue's scent surged, sharp and feral, from the alley beside the shop. It was circling her.
Kael moved, silent and lethal, his body half-shifting as he crossed the street. Claws tipped his fingers, his eyes glowing gold in the dark.
He reached the alley just as a low snarl echoed from its depths. The rogue was there, mangy, bigger than he'd expected, its fur matted with blood. Its yellow eyes locked on the coffee shop's back door, where Lena was still cleaning, unaware.
"Wrong move," Kael growled.
The rogue lunged, jaws snapping. Kael met it mid-air, slamming it into the brick wall. The impact shook the alley, but he kept his grip, claws sinking into its shoulder. The beast howled, thrashing, its teeth grazing his arm before he twisted, pinning it to the ground.
"Why here?" Kael snarled. "What do you want?"
The rogue's laugh was wet, guttural. "Not me... her. She's not what you think."
Kael's blood went cold. He glanced at the shop, where Lena was stacking cups, her back to the door. The rogue's words didn't make sense, humans didn't draw rogues. But that scent, her scent... it wasn't normal. He tightened his grip. "Talk."
It choked out another laugh, then went limp, eyes dulling. Dead. Kael cursed under his breath. Rogues didn't just drop like that.
Something was wrong.
He stood, wiping blood from his knuckles, and turned back to the shop. Lena was outside now, tossing a bag into the dumpster, her breath visible in the chilly air. She froze, sensing something, and her eyes flicked toward the alley. Toward him.
Kael stepped back into the shadows, heart pounding. She couldn't see him, not yet. But as she scanned the dark, her gaze felt like a touch, searing through him. His wolf howled, the mate bond snapping taut, undeniable.
Every muscle screamed to go to her, to tell her... what? That she was his? That she was in danger she couldn't understand?
The shop's bell jingled as she hurried inside, locking the door. Kael exhaled, forcing his claws to retract. He'd found the rogue, killed it, but Lena—Lena was a problem he hadn't expected. Pack law said to walk away. His enemies would gut him for even thinking about a human mate. But walking away felt like tearing out his own lungs.
He lingered, watching her through the window as she turned off the lights. That spark in her eyes, the way her scent clung to him, it wasn't just the bond. There was something about her, something hidden. The rogue's words echoed:
She's not what you think.
A low growl pulled him back. Not his own.
Kael's head snapped to the rooftop across the street. A figure crouched there, barely visible, but he caught the glint of silver eyes— werewolf, not Silverfang. The scent was sharp, hostile. A rival pack. Thornclaw, maybe, or worse.
The figure's gaze wasn't on Kael. It was on Lena, tracking her as she grabbed her coat inside. Kael's wolf surged, protective rage flooding his veins. Whoever they were, they'd seen him watching her. They knew.
The figure vanished over the roof's edge, silent as death.
Kael's fists tightened. Lena was his mate, his forbidden mate, and now someone else had her in their sights. He'd just started a hunt he couldn't stop.