.Chapter 4
Kane
I’d been watching the little wolf since she entered my woods.
Normally, I stayed as far away from the castle and civilization as possible. People meant complications, and complications meant someone could get hurt. Or killed. By me. But today was different. There had been unusual movement in the village, people running back and forth like ants whose hill had been kicked.
So I’d crept to the edge of the woods, close enough to catch fragments of conversation from the drunken wolves stumbling out of taverns.
My son’s…wedding.
Shock and sadness had filled my chest. I should’ve been there for him. I should have stayed away. But mostly, I should have retreated deeper into the forest and pretended none of it existed.
But then I saw her.
A flash of white fabric and honey-colored hair, running through the trees like her life depended on it. Still in her wedding dress, the train catching on branches as she fled. She was so… ethereal, even from a distance and covered in dirt and panic, Goddess, she was the most stunning thing I’d seen
in years.
My lycan slammed against my ribs so hard I nearly dropped to my knees. The urge to possess her,
to claim her, to hunt her down and never let her go hit me like a sword to the chest. I hadn’t felt
anything this intense since… well, never.
Had she left my son at the altar?
Had he rejected her?
Long gone was the sadness I’d felt at missing his wedding. If he had rejected her, then he was a
stupid, stupid boy. What the hell was he thinking, letting someone this perfect slip through his fingers?
I snarled, pacing along the tree line. Part of me wanted to storm the castle right then and there, put
some sense into that boy’s head, remind him who was still king in this kingdom. The urge was
stronger than anything I’d felt in fifteen years: the need to rule, to fix things, to take control.
But I wasn’t fit to be lycan king. Not anymore. But there was one thing I could do.
I lifted my head to catch her scent on the breeze and started running, seeing her shifting into the
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Chapter 4
most gorgeous small wolf I’ve ever seen and dodging branches, running to the tree line…
And saw how she got pinned to the ground, surrounded by guards.
I landed in the clearing just as one of the guards got his hands around her wolf’s throat, my paws hitting the ground hard enough to send dirt and leaves flying. The snarl that ripped from my chest was pure dominance, the kind of sound that made lesser beasts cower.
The guards immediately lowered their heads in submission.
Good. At least some of them still remembered who their king was.
But then something fucked up happened. The white of their eyes turned black, like someone had
poured ink into them, and they all lunged at once.
What the hell?
I grabbed the first human guard by the throat, my jaws clamping down on his windpipe. He gasped against my hold, and I expected him to beg for mercy. Instead, he wheezed out, “P-Please… my
king.”
I hesitated, thinking he was pleading for his life. Maybe he could still be redeemed for attacking a woman in the woods. I’d send them back with an order to be punished and for him to reflect on his
actions…
Then he added, his voice barely a whisper, “Please do it.”
Ice shot through my veins. What the FUCK was going on? A guard pleading for death? My lycan didn’t give me time to figure it out. The others were closing in, and I could hear the little wolf’s distressed whimpers behind me. I snapped the guard’s neck with one quick twist and turned to
face the rest.
They came at me like rabid animals, no strategy, no self-preservation, just mindless violence. I tore through them with brutal efficiency: slashing throats, crushing bones, painting the forest floor red with their blood. Each one that fell whispered the same thing: “Thank you, my king.”
It was fucking disturbing.
In seconds, it was over. Bodies littered the clearing, and blood dripped from my muzzle. I stood there panting, trying to process what had just happened. These were my men, my subjects, and they’d been turned into puppets begging for death. I didn’t think for once these men were in their right mind. Something’s going on, that was fucking sure.
Well, that was dramatic, I turned, expecting to see the little wolf cowering or at least showing some gratitude. Instead, I found empty air. She was gone.
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Up ahead, I caught a flash of honey-colored fur weaving through the trees. The clever little thing had used my distraction to make her escape.
My wolf perked up, blood still hot from the fight. She was running from me. Running.
And fuck me, but I’d always loved a good chase.
I launched myself forward, following her trail through the darkness. Her scent hit me like a drug, making my lycan go absolutely feral with want.
She was magnificent. Even in the brief glimpses I’d caught of her, I could see she was special. Her coat gleamed in the moonlight, and the way she moved through the forest was like watching liquid grace. She was built for speed and stealth, all lean muscle and deadly elegance.
Mine, my lycan snarled in my head. Mine, mine, mine, mine.
It was completely insane. I’d seen her for all of ten minutes, and already I was becoming… obsessed? There was something about her that called to the most wild part of me and made every instinct I had roar with the need to claim her, protect her, keep her.
The thrill of the hunt sang through my veins. She could run all she wanted. I’d spent more than eighteen years in these woods. I knew every tree, every stream, every hiding spot.
And I wasn’t letting her get away.
My paws ate up the ground as I followed her trail, my nose full of her intoxicating scent. She was fast, I’d give her that, but I was faster. And I had the advantage of knowing this terrain like the back of my hand.
She would be mine. I’d make sure of it.
Even if it killed me.
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