Wyatt

Wyatt was the Alpha of the Night Shade Pack.

A mysterious, feared, and extremely dangerous pack whose reputation stretched throughout the werewolf community.

Night Shade was large, wealthy, and powerful. Their territory stretched for miles through heavily guarded forest surrounding an enormous stone estate that looked more like a castle than a traditional pack house. Smaller homes, shops, training grounds, and gathering buildings had been built throughout the territory over generations, creating what was essentially a private town inhabited almost entirely by werewolves.

Outsiders were extremely unwelcome, regardless of species.

And Wyatt was exactly the kind of Alpha people expected to rule such a place.

Cold, controlled, intelligent, and ruthless when necessary, he was respected almost as much as he was feared. He rarely needed to raise his voice. One look was usually enough to remind everyone exactly who was in charge.

Beside him through nearly everything was Larson.

Night Shade's Beta and Wyatt's closest friend.

Larson was dangerous in his own right, though he carried it differently. Where Wyatt was intimidating and difficult to approach, Larson was more relaxed, sarcastic, and deceptively charming. He smiled easier, joked more often, and was one of the few wolves who could openly challenge Wyatt without immediately regretting it.

Then there was Dorian.

Dorian belonged to another powerful neighboring pack and had once been its Alpha Heir.

Years ago, Dorian had fallen deeply in love with a woman named Isa.

She wasn't his fated mate.

He didn't care.

Dorian loved her.

Then, on the same day your wolf awakened, fate decided differently.

You found your mate.

Dorian.

For several wonderful seconds, you thought the Moon Goddess had given you everything.

The future Alpha of your pack was yours.

And you were his.

Then Dorian rejected you.

Immediately.

He already loved Isa, and he had no intention of allowing a mating bond to take her place.

No one knew you were Dorian's mate.

He made sure of that.

And you never told anyone.

You accepted his rejection alone.

The pain nearly destroyed you.

Your wolf had only just awakened when the bond was violently severed. Your wolf couldn't handle it.

Your wolf disappeared deep inside you.

Suppressed.

Silent.

Gone.

No one understood what had happened.

Your parents simply believed something had gone wrong when your wolf emerged. The pack whispered occasionally, but eventually everyone stopped asking.

You remained hidden away in your parents' home.

Dorian remained with Isa.

He had rejected the person fate created for him because he wanted the woman he had chosen, and while Isa was alive, Dorian never regretted that choice.

Then Isa discovered that she had a fated mate of her own.

Wyatt.

The Alpha of Night Shade.

Being bonded to Wyatt didn't make Isa stop loving Dorian.

And it didn't make Dorian stop loving her.

Whatever fate demanded of her, Isa's heart remained with Dorian.

Dorian's remained with her.

They still wanted each other.

Still loved each other.

Still wished fate had chosen differently.

Eventually, Isa became desperate enough to attempt to kill Wyatt with a silver dagger.

She failed.

Attacking an Alpha was treason.

Attacking your own Alpha and mate made the crime even more severe.

Isa was brought before Night Shade's elders and sentenced to death.

The sentence was carried out.

Isa died.

And Dorian lost the woman he had chosen over everything else.

His grief consumed him.

He blamed Wyatt for Isa's death, regardless of the circumstances that had led to her execution.

For years, Dorian carried that hatred.

And somewhere far beneath his grief was the mate he had rejected long ago.

You.

He didn't come looking for you.

He didn't apologize.

He didn't suddenly decide he had made the wrong choice.

Isa had been the woman he wanted.

Until she was gone.

Years passed.

Then came the Spring Solstice celebration.

Once every year, six neighboring packs gathered on sacred neutral territory for a single night.

It was the only night pack borders temporarily meant nothing.

Unmated wolves were encouraged to mingle freely in hopes of finding the person fate had chosen for them.

Traditionally, unmated females wore white while unmated males wore black.

Everyone searching for their mate wore a mask.

The idea was simple.

A wolf shouldn't choose with their eyes.

They should find their mate through scent.

You had never attended.

Why would you?

You had already found your mate.

And he'd rejected you.

But your parents didn't know that.

After years of watching you avoid mating celebrations, relationships, and nearly every social event involving other wolves, they finally lost patience.

They gave you an ultimatum.

Attend the Spring Solstice celebration.

Or leave their home and fend for yourself.

So you went.

You dressed in white.

A delicate mask covered your face.

And your wolf remained silent inside you, just as your wolf had for years.

The Spring Solstice was held in an enormous clearing considered sacred to werewolf kind.

A massive bonfire blazed in the center.

Fairy lights had been strung between the branches of ancient trees, casting a soft glow over hundreds of wolves.

Music played throughout the clearing.

Couples danced.

Others wandered between groups, searching for the scent that would change their lives.

A seemingly endless refreshment table stretched along one side of the clearing.

You stayed near the edges.

You weren't searching.

You were simply fulfilling your parents' demand and waiting until enough time had passed that you could reasonably leave.

Night Shade attended as well.

Wyatt was there to watch over his wolves.

Nothing more.

He wore a fitted black button-down shirt and dark dress slacks.

But he refused to wear a mask.

Larson stood beside him, properly dressed in black with his own mask covering the upper half of his face.

Larson glanced toward Wyatt.

"You know you're supposed to wear one."

Wyatt barely looked at him.

"No."

"Compelling argument."

Wyatt took a drink.

"I'm not looking for anyone."

"Still ruining the tradition."

Wyatt gave him a flat stare.

Larson grinned.

Then the wind changed.

Wyatt froze.

A scent drifted through the clearing.

Sweet.

Warm.

Addictive.

It hit him so violently his wolf surged forward beneath his skin.

Mate.

Wyatt's fingers tightened around his glass.

His head lifted.

Another wave of your scent passed through the crowd.

Stronger.

His eyes flashed.

Without warning, Wyatt reached over and stole Larson's mask.

"Hey—"

Wyatt put it on.

Larson stared at him.

"You just spent the last ten minutes refusing to wear one."

"I changed my mind."

Then Wyatt started toward the crowd.

Not walking casually.

Hunting.

His eyes moved over every white-clad figure as he followed your scent through the celebration.

Larson watched him for several seconds.

"What the hell..."

Then he smelled it too.

Larson went completely still.

The scent reached him.

And his wolf slammed forward.

Mate.

His playful expression vanished.

Larson stared toward the crowd.

Then toward Wyatt.

Understanding settled over him.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

They were following the same scent.

The same mate.

Larson immediately followed.

Across the clearing, Dorian was standing with several wolves from his pack when something achingly familiar reached him.

His entire body locked.

For a moment, he couldn't place it.

Then his wolf erupted.

Mate.

The glass slipped from Dorian's hand and shattered against the ground.

His head snapped toward the opposite side of the clearing.

No.

It couldn't be.

He hadn't smelled you in years.

He had buried the memory of your scent beneath Isa, grief, anger, and everything that came afterward.

But his wolf hadn't forgotten.

His wolf had never forgotten.

Dorian started moving.

You remained unaware of all three men approaching.

Because something impossible was happening inside you.

Your wolf moved.

You sucked in a breath.

Your hand instinctively pressed against your chest.

For years, there had been nothing.

No thoughts.

No voice.

No comforting presence.

Now your wolf stirred weakly in the darkness.

"Are you there?"

You didn't realize you'd whispered the words aloud.

Your wolf moved again.

Then came one broken word.

Mate.

Your blood went cold.

No.

That wasn't possible.

Your mate had rejected you.

The bond was gone.

Then a familiar scent reached you.

Your stomach twisted.

You slowly turned.

And saw Dorian.

Years disappeared in an instant.

You remembered standing in front of him shortly after your wolf awakened.

You remembered the wonder of recognizing him.

The happiness.

Then his expression.

His rejection.

Isa.

The pain.

Your wolf screaming.

Dorian stared directly at you.

The mask couldn't hide you from him.

Not from his wolf.

Recognition crossed his face.

Then shock.

Then something you had never seen directed toward you before.

Possession.

Dorian began walking toward you.

You stepped backward.

Once.

Twice.

Then collided with a hard chest.

A large hand caught your waist before you could fall.

Your wolf suddenly surged harder than your wolf had in years.

Mate.

You spun around.

Wyatt.

Even wearing a mask that clearly belonged to Larson, there was no mistaking the Alpha of Night Shade.

He towered over you.

His hand remained around your waist.

And he was staring at you as though the hundreds of wolves surrounding you had ceased to exist.

His nostrils flared.

His wolf pushed forward.

"Mate."

The word came out rough.

Almost disbelieving.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Your wolf responded.

Mate.

But that didn't make sense.

Dorian was your mate.

Or had been.

Then another scent surrounded you.

Another presence.

Larson stopped beside Wyatt.

He'd followed the scent straight to you.

The moment his eyes met yours, his wolf reacted.

Violently.

Mine.

Larson's usual teasing expression disappeared.

For once, he seemed completely speechless.

He looked at you.

Then Wyatt.

Then back at you.

"Well."

Wyatt slowly turned his head toward him.

Larson exhaled.

"This is going to be a fucking problem."

A growl came from behind you.

Dorian.

His attention was fixed on Wyatt's hand around your waist.

"Take your hands off them."

Wyatt slowly looked toward him.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Two powerful wolves stared at each other across you.

Wyatt's expression went cold.

"Who are you?"

Dorian barely seemed to hear him.

His eyes were fixed entirely on you.

"you."

Hearing your name from his mouth after all these years made your stomach drop.

Your body went rigid.

Suddenly the celebration disappeared.

The music.

The laughter.

The bonfire.

All you could see was Dorian.

And all you could remember was the night everything inside you had shattered.

Dorian stepped closer.

"you, come here."

Something inside you snapped.

No.

You couldn't do this.

You couldn't stand there surrounded by three powerful wolves while your newly awakened instincts screamed things you didn't understand.

You couldn't listen to Dorian speak to you as though he still had the right to summon you.

You couldn't look at him.

You couldn't look at Wyatt.

Or Larson.

Your wolf was stirring after years of silence, flooding you with emotions and instincts faster than you could process them.

Mate.

Mate.

Mate.

It was too much.

Dorian took another step.

"Come here."

You ran.

You twisted out of Wyatt's hold before any of them realized what you were doing and bolted toward the edge of the clearing.

"you!"

You didn't know which one of them shouted your name.

You didn't look back.

You shoved past startled wolves, nearly collided with a couple dancing near the bonfire, and kept going.

Your mask slipped sideways.

You tore it from your face and let it fall somewhere behind you.

Then you reached the tree line.

And disappeared into the woods.

Away from Dorian.

Away from Larson.

Away from Wyatt.

Away from all three of them.

Branches clawed at your clothes as you ran deeper between the trees, your shoes slipping over damp leaves and uneven ground.

You had no idea where you were going.

You only knew you needed to get away.

Your heart hammered painfully against your ribs while your wolf paced restlessly inside you.

Mate.

Mate.

Mate.

"Stop," you whispered breathlessly.

Your wolf didn't.

For years, there had been nothing but silence.

Now your wolf wouldn't stop calling for them.

You ran harder.

The music from the celebration grew quieter behind you.

The glow of the bonfire disappeared between the trees.

Soon there was nothing but darkness, moonlight, and the sound of your own ragged breathing.

You didn't know how far you'd gone when your legs finally began to ache.

You slowed.

Just enough to catch your breath.

Then you heard it.

Boots.

Heavy footsteps crushing leaves and snapping twigs somewhere behind you.

Someone or someones was coming.