Chapter Three

Kiran couldn’t wait to return home. He had been dealing with The Dark Wolves for days, tirelessly trying to bring them under control and keep his kingdom safe. They seemed to multiply constantly, leaving him with little time to rest. He longed to go back to the comfort of his castle, to rest, eat, and perhaps have a lady warm his bed for the night. However, his desire for relaxation didn’t prevent him from slowing down his horse as he approached a woman standing in the middle of the road.

Although the woman’s clothes were strange, and she had very short hair typically worn by men, Kiran could still discern her curvaceous figure and soft features. His wolf stirred inside him, instinctively recognizing her as their chosen one. The word he had waited years to hear echoed in his mind: Mate!

Kiran smiled. However, the woman before him appeared dressed unusually, and the scent of Dark Wolf and blood clung to her, masking her own natural fragrance that should have drawn him closer. “Who are you?”

The woman continued to gaze at him, testing his patience.

“Speak,” he urged, his patience wearing thin.

Calm yourself. Remember who she is to you, his wolf reminded him, displeased with Kiran’s impatience. After all, he was a king accustomed to receiving immediate answers. But this was a wounded woman, unfamiliar and fearful. Wait… a realization struck him. She was wounded, and that angered him more than he thought possible. He felt an urge to embrace her and assure her that everything would be all right.

Kiran dismounted his horse, causing confusion among his men, who couldn’t understand why he would approach the strange person so closely. She took a step back in fear.

Observing her slight flinch, Kiran stopped, realizing that, though she was not a small woman, she still appeared dwarfed by his imposing presence. “You’re hurt. May I take a look?”

It was unusual for him to ask for permission. Yet, his gentle tone seemed to have an effect on her, causing her to lower her guard slightly.

“Where am I?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

Her question puzzled Kiran, and he turned to his men, who simply shrugged. He looked back at the woman and decided to answer, “Durran, a kingdom in the highlands of Gira.”

“Durran? Gira?” she repeated, appearing even more disoriented. “Such places do not exist.”

Her words perplexed Kiran. “But they do.”

“No, this is…”

Her hand, gripping the knife tightly, trembled. Kiran noticed the change in her condition. “What is your name?”

She shook her head, taking a step back, which displeased Kiran. Of all the women out there, it was a peculiar human woman dressed like a man who caught his attention, who caught his wolf’s attention.

Are you saying I’m wrong? his wolf asked, his voice echoing in Kiran’s head.

Of course not, he answered, but perhaps in his heart, he harbored some doubt. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, his voice turning darker, sensing his mate was ready to bolt.

But if there was one thing wolves enjoyed, especially those with stronger and more powerful animalistic genes, it was chasing their sweet little mate, catching them, and receiving their true submission. The woman, by slowly retreating from him, was doing the wrong thing. “Don’t run,” he warned.

“Why shouldn’t I? One of you just attacked me.”

So that’s what had happened. That explained why his mate carried the scent of a Dark Wolf. She had been attacked, and it was evident that she needed medical attention. “Did he have red eyes?”

“What?” Her voice trembled.

“Did he have red eyes?” he repeated.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Did he seem wild?”

“Yes.”

“Do we seem wild?”

Yet his mate did not answer him, merely took a look at them one by one. Kiran nodded a bit, understanding she did not know the difference between good and bad, but how could that be? Even the humans in his kingdom knew to stay far away from the forest and not leave their houses in the middle of the night. “Take a look.” He held out his arms. “Are we wild?”

She looked around again, surveying her surroundings, then said, “No.”

Kiran took a step closer and she stood her ground. He then let his wolf resurface a bit, and he knew when his eyes glowed with a shiny golden color, which made the woman’s own eyes grow bigger at the sight. “No red eyes here. We are not like them.” He gave her a small smile. “You need help. Let me help you,” he offered.

Kiran took another step closer, but the woman retreated a bit more. When he advanced again, now annoyed by her high walls, she moved quicker than he thought a human could, swinging the hidden knife at him. Yet Kiran was faster, avoided the attack, grabbed her arm, spun her around, and pressed her against him. Yes, that is definitely a woman, he thought, as he brought her warm body against his, feeling the softness of her curves. Her sweet scent, even though it had a bit of a spicy touch because she was angry, filled his nostrils.

“Gods, you smell good,” he whispered in her ear, getting distracted. But as she writhed in his tight grip, he understood she was not feeling the same thing as him. While his attraction to her was immediate, his bond to her forming like the snap of someone’s fingers, she was not built the same way as he, and she clearly found it scary to be in his arms.

Kiran wrestled the knife from her, studying the interesting shape of it and the dark handle. He had never seen anything made like that. He held the woman with an arm around her waist, her arms locked to her side, as he easily lifted her from the ground.

“No!” She tried to get free, but he was so much stronger. There was nothing to do.

He stopped by Serian’s side, holding up the knife. He had been making swords and weapons since he was a kid.

“Seen anything like it before?” Kiran asked.

Serian studied it before shaking his head. “No. But then again, I have never seen clothes like hers before.”

“Do you think she is not from Gira?” Moran joined in.

“She could be from the Dark Lands across the sea, or even further.”

“Where are you from?” Kiran asked and turned to the woman, who was still wriggling in his arms.

She shot him a deadly glare. “Fuck. You,” was all that came out of her mouth, making Kiran growl.

“I don’t tolerate disrespect. As my mate, you have more freedom to speak to me in any way you want, but don’t show disrespect toward your king and alpha.”

“My what?” she asked.

“Of all the women, Kiran,” Moran groaned, shaking his head, and yet they were all smiling.

“I always enjoyed it a little differently,” Kiran chuckled before he easily lifted the woman onto his horse and then joined in behind her.

“Let me go!”

His muscular arms came around her and kept her trapped. “No, now we are going to get you stitched up before you die from that wound.”

“I can take care of myself!” she snapped, before Kiran maneuvered the bag off her shoulder and threw it to one of the others. “Hey! That’s mine!”

“Anything interesting?” Kiran asked.

“Only more weird stuff,” Moran replied.

“Wonderful. You are a mystery, aren’t you?” Kiran focused on the woman, who turned her head away, choosing not to speak. But it only made him laugh. “Sure, be silent now. It won’t change where you’re going.”