When he's the most powerful Alpha in the city, you don't get to question him. But you do — and he won't forget it.
"Alpha, this decision puts the entire patrol at risk," I said, feeling every pair of eyes in the room snap toward me.
He walked over slowly, each step making the air heavier. The tattoos, the height, that scent — sharp, dangerous, overwhelming — hit me all at once.
He leaned in until his eyes were level with mine. "You dare question me, warrior?"
My wolf went still. The entire hall held its breath.
"Yes," I whispered.
_______
CHAPTER 1
“Settle down and line up!” the guard yells, snapping me back to reality.
I stand in the center of the Tri-River Transition Center (TRTC), my soon-to-be third and former home. Outside the glass doors, a massive gray bus pulls up, its engine idling with a low, mechanical hum that feels like a countdown.
They call us “graduates,” a fancy term for pups with no living or willing relatives who have finally reached the age where we can be shipped off to a career in one of the Tri-River packs. Most are heading to Clear Creek, Cedar Falls, or Red Rapids to start their "new lives".
To everyone else, pack life is a dream. We are werewolves—shifters—living in the safety of our own towns, hidden away from human civilization. But to me, the TRTC has always felt like a waiting room for a life I didn't choose.
A puff of warm, stale breath wisps past my ear, and the voice that makes my skin crawl breaks my thoughts.
“Gonna miss you around here, Isla. You could always come stay with me,” Kyson whispers. I feel his eyes tracing me, a look that makes my skin crawl.
“Yeah, that will be a hard pass,” I spit out, stepping away to hide my disgust. Kyson is twenty-seven, unmated, and someone I've spent months avoiding. I don’t know who let him be a guard.
“You turn nineteen next week, Isla,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, possessive tone. “The mate bond is a fairy tale. Let me mark you now. I can protect you from whatever life the Alpha at Clear Creek has planned for you”.
I shudder. Mates are soulmates bonded by the Moon Goddess, a bond that becomes noticeable at nineteen. I used to dream of meeting mine, but after my mom died, I stopped believing in fate. Still, I’d rather be alone forever than tied to a man who views me as a prize to be won.
My heart hammers against my ribs. The forest behind the center is the only path to a life where I'm not a pawn in some pack's hierarchy. I need to disappear into the wild, to find a place where no one knows my name or my past. The thought of another cage—even a fancy one in Clear Creek—is unbearable.
Anger flashes in Kyson’s eyes. His hand darts out, gripping my wrist with bruising force.
“You think you’re too good for this place? You’re just another orphan, Isla,” he snarls.
Fear spikes in my chest, sharp and cold. If I get on that bus, I’m just being handed over to another pack, another system, and another set of rules.
I look at the tree line visible through the lobby windows. It represents a different kind of life—one where I’m not a "run risk level 2" in a file. I want to get away from here, from him, and from the feeling that I am nothing more than property being moved.
Just then, another guard releases the door lock and calls out, “Grab your bags and get to your bus. We don’t want to keep the Alpha waiting!”.
Kyson’s grip loosens for a split second as the crowd surges forward. It’s the only opening I’ll get. I duck away from his reaching hand, slip past the other graduates, and pull the shoulder straps of my satchel tight.
Then, I run.
I don’t head for the bus. I sprint straight past the idling engine and toward the forest. The tree line is my only chance at freedom. My plan is thin—cross the border and figure the rest out later—but anything is better than the alternative.
“WATCH THE BORDERS. WE’VE GOT A RUNNER!” a male’s voice rumbles through the mind link.
Shit. My lungs burn as I push my legs harder, the scent of pine and freedom calling to me. My wolf lends me her strength, but I refuse to shift; I can't risk losing my bag—the only things I have left of my mother.
I’m almost to the thicket when a large wolf lunges from the brush, cutting me off. I pivot, but a sudden pain erupts in my shin. I let out a yelp as I tumble, skidding through the dirt.
I scramble to sit up, only to see a half-rotten stump where I tripped. A piece of wood took me down while I was inches from the life I wanted.
Kyson walks up, shifting back into his human form with a smug look. He pulls on a pair of shorts from a nearby patrol basket.
“Tsk tsk, you naughty little wolf,” Kyson says, leaning down. He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You really thought you could run from me?”.
“I’ll never stop trying,” I rasp, despite the tremor in my voice.
Kyson’s grip is firm as he yanks me to my feet. I cry out as my weight hits my injured leg.
Mr. Andrews approaches us, rubbing his temples slowly. He looks at me with a mix of sadness and irritation.
“Isla, I thought we were past this,” he sighs. “You’re lucky to find a spot in a pack with such a kind Alpha. You have a chance at a good life, a new start”.
“I don’t feel lucky,” I mumble, my eyes fixed on the dirt.
Kyson leans in closer, his voice a low threat that only I can hear. “Next time you run, I won’t let the guards find you first. You’re lucky we have an audience, Isla.”
He looks up at Mr. Andrews and the other guards waiting by the bus. The tension in the air is thick, and the smell of Kyson’s smugness is suffocating.
“She’s had enough of a head start,” Kyson says, squeezing my hand tighter. He turns his head to the other guards, his eyes cold and commanding.
“In the bus with her. Now.”
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