Rain mixed with mud blurred my vision, and sharp branches tore through my flimsy gown, but stopping meant certain death.
Behind me, the bone-chilling howls of the pack echoed through the wind, closing in fast.
Tonight was the Blood Moon. In my pack, it was supposed to be a night of sacred celebration.
But for me, a late-bloomer who had failed to manifest a wolf spirit at eighteen, it was the night of my execution. The Alpha had declared my weakness a curse upon the bloodline.
My lungs burned as my foot caught on an exposed root. I tumbled down the muddy slope and crashed hard against the sharp rocks at the bottom.
Gasping for air, I pushed myself up, only to freeze.
A deafening lightning bolt split the sky, illuminating a massive, shadow-draped figure dropping from the high canopy above.
He landed heavily just a few paces in front of me, sending mud splatter across my face.
As he slowly straightened his towering frame, the lethal scent of cedarwood, crushed mint, and fresh blood hit my senses.
He turned around. Crimson blood trickled down his sculpted chest, but what made my heart stop were his eyes: a glowing, predatory amber.
It was Kael, the infamous Blood Alpha of the Obsidian Pack, a ruthless leader feared across all territories.
He took a slow, heavy step toward me. I scrambled backward until my spine hit a cold, jagged rock wall.
Kael tilted his head, nostrils flaring as he drew a deep breath from the wet air.
The brutal coldness in his eyes shattered, replaced by a dark, consuming hunger that sent shivers straight down my spine.
"Found you," he said, voice vibrating like low thunder. His warm, metallic breath brushed my trembling neck. "My fated mate."