1. Elise

CHAPTER ONE

ELISE

“ Y ou can’t just roll over and show your belly every time Declan snaps his fingers, Rafe!”

The screen door slammed shut behind me. I stomped off my porch and into the clearing where the rest of the pack gathered in anticipation of the moonlit run. Tension puffed into the air from them like human-shaped diffusers. It made my wolf stir, and I hated her for it. Hated myself for noticing.

Rafe’s shoulders heaved with his deep inhale. His jaw clenched tight as he slowly turned to face me, a muscle ticking beneath his skin. Good. Let him feel some of the frustration churning in my gut. This argument had been building for days since he dropped the news of no more assistance from the Crescent Hollow pack, then fucked off for days on some work trip without the decency of a debate.

“We don’t have a choice, Elise,” Rafe said, his tone measured. Always so fucking measured. “The landscape has changed. We need to adjust with it.”

“Adjust?” I spat the word like poison. “Is that what you call leaving us exposed? You want the humans and your pup left vulnerable?”

The words landed like blows. Orion and Kai stiffened where they stood. Brielle and Claire—their human mates—exchanged a wary look. Tara shrank back, but Maddy growled at the implied threat to her daughter and stepped up to Rafe’s side.

I should have cared. Should have stuffed myself back into the cabin that became mine when the new alpha installed himself in the pack house. Should have wanted to keep one shred of dignity left.

The proud papa himself narrowed his eyes, but Rafe’s voice stayed infuriatingly calm. “We’re not vulnerable, Elise. We’re adapting.”

“By reducing patrols? By letting our guard down?” I stalked closer, fury building with each step. My wolf snarled and snapped through my head, devouring any hint of patience or calm. “Have you forgotten what happened with Bowen? With Lincoln?”

With every other fucker that tried to destroy the pack? Hunters. Rival wolves. Monsters on two legs, and four.

My own father, fates torment his soul.

“Of course not.” A flicker of something—anger? Guilt?—crossed Rafe’s face. “But Declan can’t keep loaning us wolves from Crescent Hollow. We need to stand on our own.”

“Then bring back the wolves who left!” I glared at Rafe, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I hated relying on the neighboring pack for help guarding our territory when the straightforward solution existed. “Call them home. We need the numbers, Rafe. We need?—”

“No.” Rafe’s voice cracked like a whip. “I won’t force anyone to return against their will. I refuse to be like?—”

He cut himself off, but I knew. I fucking knew.

“Like Marcus?” I snarled around the dagger of pain lancing through my chest. “Is that what you were going to say?”

Rafe’s silence was answer enough.

Father. Murderer. Warmonger. Marcus Whitman’s crimes deserved the final justice of a quick death. Deserved to have half his pack turn on him while the other half abandoned him to his daughter’s fangs.

I could still taste the blood on my tongue.

“You think you’re so much better than him, don’t you?” I sneered, the words pouring out of me like acid. “Saint Rafe, the reluctant alpha. So noble. So fucking righteous.”

“Elise—”

“No.” I cut him off, my voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to play the martyr here. You took this position. You accepted the responsibility. And now you’re failing. You’re weak, Rafe. And your weakness is going to get us all killed.”

I asked for this, too.

I hadn’t wanted to step into my father’s shoes. For the good of the pack, to heal wounds left by a Whitman, I’d begged Rafe to take a role I won by spilling blood.

And now we were weak. Our downward spiral looked more like a straight plunge into extinction. One by one, the wolves who stuck around after toppling my father’s rule found themselves needed elsewhere and asking to be released from Dusk Valley obligations.

“Maybe that’s the plan. Leave us as easy pickings until you’re free to fuck off without all this baggage.” I scoffed. “I’m sure Declan would love to claim this territory for his own. Maybe cede it with a kiss?”

I saw the words hit their mark. Saw the way Rafe’s shoulders tensed and the hand he threw out to keep Maddy from charging for me. His face remained impassive, but I could smell the anger rolling off him in waves.

But he didn’t snap back. He refused to rise to my bait.

And suddenly, I hated him for it.

“What’s the matter?” I taunted, circling him like prey. The others shifted on their feet, fighting that battle between stepping in or making themselves scarce. “Afraid to put me in my place? Afraid you’ll turn into the big bad wolf if you show a little backbone?”

“That’s enough, Elise.” His voice had an edge now. A warning.

But I couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. I hated the way he looked at me with understanding in his eyes. Hated the compassion I saw there, the silent acknowledgment of my pain.

I wanted him to yell. To bare his fangs and force my wolf to heel. To give me an excuse to fight and unleash the storm raging inside me.

I helped overthrow my father. I dealt the final blow. I walked away from my duty to the pack.

But he just stood there, taking it all, refusing to give me what I needed.

“What kind of alpha are you?” I snarled, stepping even closer. “You can’t even stand up to your own second. How do you expect to keep your pup alive when you can’t even?—”

“Enough,” Rafe snapped.

His voice thrummed with alpha power, and the weight of it pressed down on me. My wolf railed against the reminder that we belonged to another. That I owed him loyalty and respect.

“Shift,” he ordered. “Now.”

The command struck hard and fast, exactly as he intended. My bones cracked and shifted before I could even think to resist. Fur sprouted along my skin as I fell to all fours, clothes shredding. My wolf surged to the surface with a snarl as I faced down our alpha.

Rafe’s wolf was larger than mine, his gray coat gleaming silver in the rising moonlight. We circled each other, fangs bared, growls rumbling in our chests. The pack gave us a wide berth and watched in tense silence.

How many times had they witnessed the same scene?

Submit.

Pressure filled my ears. The alpha order settled over me like a heavy blanket. All I needed to do was submit to my alpha and avoid a world of pain.

We lunged at the same time, a tangle of teeth and claws and fury. I snapped at his flank, but he dodged to meet my attack head-on. Rafe’s paw caught me across the muzzle, the impact rattling through my skull.

Submit. Obey.

My wolf raged against the order. I threw myself at him again and again. My attacks grew wilder, more desperate. Some distant part of me knew I was losing control, but I didn’t care.

Pain lanced through my shoulder as Rafe’s teeth found purchase. I yelped but twisted free, scoring a bite to his hind leg in return.

The world narrowed down to a singular focus—fight. Survive. Win.

My wolf howled with savage joy, reveling in the scent of Rafe’s blood. Power surged in my veins as we grappled, rolling across the forest floor. My jaws snapped inches from his throat. One good bite and I could?—

Horror flooded through me. What was I doing? I didn’t want to kill Rafe. I didn’t want to be alpha.

Did I?

Rafe’s teeth closed around my scruff, shaking me roughly. The dominant gesture sent conflicting signals through my body. Part of me wanted to melt into submission. The other part howled for blood.

I bucked, throwing him off balance. As he stumbled, I saw my opening. One leap and I could have his throat. I could end this. I could take what was rightfully mine?—

No!

With a monumental effort, I wrenched control back from my wolf. Before she could take over again, I dropped to the ground. Slowly, fighting every instinct, I rolled onto my back. I bared my throat to Rafe, whining softly.

For a long moment, the only sound was our ragged breathing. Then Rafe’s teeth grazed my exposed neck—not biting, just a gentle reminder of his dominance. Of my place in his pack.

Shame and self-loathing crashed over me. I scrambled to my feet and backed away from my alpha. His expression softened, and I wanted to claw it off his face. That look. That fucking pity. It made my skin crawl.

I bolted for the trees. I felt the pack’s eyes on me. All that worry and concern. But I didn’t deserve their comfort.

I didn’t deserve any of it.

I ran until my lungs burned and my paws ached. Until the faces of my packmates stopped swimming behind my eyelids. Until the hateful words I’d thrown around so casually became an accusing wind in my fur.

Weak.

Selfish.

Unworthy.

I ran until my lungs burned and my legs trembled, finally collapsing by a stream at the far edge of Dusk Valley territory. Water rushed past in a steady current. The chill air stung my muzzle, and the clear water reflected my disheveled appearance.

I hated the gold eyes that stared back at me. My father’s eyes.

The shift back to human was agonizing, my battered body protesting every movement. I crawled to the water’s edge, wincing as the cool current lapped at my wounds.

Fuck. What had I done?

As the adrenaline faded, the full weight of my actions settled over me. I’d goaded Rafe into that fight. Just pushed and pushed until he had no choice but to pull rank. Worse, I’d lost control. Just like?—

No. I couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t face the terrifying parallels between myself and the father I’d helped kill.

I scrubbed at my skin, as if I could wash away the shame along with the blood and dirt. The water stung my already healing cuts, but I welcomed the pain. It was better than the gnawing emptiness threatening to consume me.

A twig snapped behind me.

I whirled, heart pounding, to find a stranger standing naked at the edge of the clearing. I didn’t recognize him, but the bright silver eyes and wild energy radiating off him marked him as a shifter.

“Who the fuck are you?” I snarled, surging to my feet.

Lone wolves weren’t uncommon, and we’d ordered more than a few in my lifetime to keep moving. Rogues were their dangerous cousins—unpredictable beasts who spent more time in fur than human skin. Most lost themselves to madness and whatever alpha eventually put them down.

The stranger canted his head. His nostrils flared as his eyes swept over my naked frame, lingering on my tits. A low rumble vibrated in his chest—not quite a growl, but a sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

He was obscenely hot, in a feral sort of way. Broad-shouldered and muscular, with olive skin and a mess of dark hair hanging past his shoulders. A half-sleeve of tattoos decorated one arm, the black ink a stark contrast to his skin.

And that scent... cedar and espresso, with a hint of something wild and strange. I wanted to bask in it, bury my face in his neck and drown in his aroma.

But it was his eyes that held me captive. They were so bright, so silver, and for a moment, I saw myself reflected in their depths. The pain, the anger, the desperate need to run from something I couldn’t escape.

All I felt was a spark of recognition and understanding.

Mate.

I shook myself, trying to clear the fog from my mind. No. No. I didn’t want a mate. Especially now, with my life falling apart.

The way his gaze traveled over my body made my skin tingle with awareness. It was wrong, so wrong, but I couldn’t look away. The tension stretched between us, drawing tighter with each passing heartbeat.

“You need to leave,” I said, injecting as much authority into my voice as I could muster. “Now.”

The man didn’t respond, just kept staring at me with those wild, glowing eyes.

Then he took a slow, deliberate step toward me.