Chapter 3 The Wolf at Her Door.

The village awoke with the gray light of dawn, mist curling low over the ground, softening the sharp edges of broken fences and crumbling roofs. Lyra stepped outside, wrapping her thin shawl tightly around her shoulders, the chill of the morning biting at her skin. Her cheek still ached where Joren's hand had met it, a dull, throbbing reminder of last night.

But it wasn't Joren's anger that haunted her now.

It was him.

Kael.

The memory of his golden eyes. The way he'd touched her without hurting her-possessive, yes, but protective too. Like she was his to guard. His to claim.

Mine. The word echoed in her mind, dark and dangerous.

She shook herself. Don't be stupid. He was an Alpha. A predator. The Savage Moon Pack was infamous for their cruelty. He wasn't thinking about her now. He'd probably already forgotten.

But as she made her way toward the woods to finish gathering the herbs she'd lost, she felt it again-that prickle along her skin. The sense of being watched.

And when she glanced back at the tree line, she swore she saw a flicker of gold between the shadows.

---

Kael crouched in the cover of the trees, his wolf just beneath his skin, barely restrained. He'd told himself to stay away. To forget her. But the moment the sun rose, he'd found himself here, drawn to the scent of her on the wind.

She looked smaller in the morning light, fragile in that threadbare shawl, but her chin was up, eyes sharp, defiant. His wolf liked that. Liked that she wasn't cowed. That she moved through the world like she didn't know she was prey.

But she isn't prey, Kael thought, jaw clenched. His wolf snarled in agreement. She was something else. Something forbidden and irresistible.

He should leave. Turn back. Go to his pack and forget about the human girl with the silver crescent birthmark.

But his feet stayed rooted to the earth.

---

Lyra knelt in the grass, her hands moving through the plants with practiced ease, collecting what she could salvage. Every sound made her heart jump-the crack of a twig, the flap of wings overhead. The forest felt alive today. Alive and tense.

Then she heard it. A low growl. So soft it could've been the wind. But she knew better.

She froze, her fingers stilling in the grass. "I know you're there," she whispered.

The woods fell silent.

And then he stepped out.

Kael emerged from the trees like a nightmare made flesh-barefoot, bare-chested, loose black pants riding low on his hips, the morning light catching the scars that lined his muscled torso. His golden eyes glowed faintly beneath dark brows, his hair tousled as if he'd run here on the wind.

Lyra's breath hitched. She rose slowly, never breaking eye contact. "What do you want?"

He didn't answer right away. His gaze swept over her, lingering on the bruise that marred her cheek. A low, furious rumble built in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

She blinked, startled. "What?"

Kael closed the distance between them in a blink, his hand reaching out but stopping just short of touching her face. His claws trembled, half-extended, as if his control was fraying. "Who. Touched. You."

"It's none of your business!" Lyra snapped, stepping back.

But Kael followed. His wolf demanded it. He could smell the faint trace of another man's anger on her skin. Could see the mark. And it made him wild.

"I will rip him apart," Kael growled. "No one hurts what's mine."

"I'm not yours!" Lyra cried, voice trembling. "I don't even know you!"

"But you will." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "And you'll learn it's the truth."

She shook her head, backing away, heart pounding. "I don't belong to anyone. Not you. Not Joren. No one."

The name slipped out before she could stop it.

Kael froze.

His wolf surged to the surface. Joren. The scent made sense now. The filth, the stench of stale ale and cruelty. His claws fully extended, and his lips curled back from sharp teeth.

"Where is he?" Kael snarled.

"No!" Lyra stepped in front of him, panic rising. "Please. Don't. He's all I have. If you kill him-what happens to me?"

Kael stared down at her, breathing hard, the rage in him battling the need to protect. His hand hovered near her cheek again, and this time he let his fingers brush the bruise, so gently it almost broke her.

"You have me," he said simply.

Lyra's knees went weak.

"I don't even know what you are," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes-not from fear this time, but confusion, exhaustion, longing she didn't understand.

Kael smiled, but there was no humor in it. Only hunger. "I'm your ruin, little one. And your salvation."

---

They stood like that, the world narrowing to the space between them, until the distant sound of hooves shattered the moment.

Kael stiffened. His head turned sharply toward the sound. "Hunters," he muttered. His pack's enemies, no doubt seeking any wolf foolish enough to linger near human lands.

He glanced back at Lyra, torn. He didn't want to leave her. But if they found him here...

Kael grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, until her body pressed to his, until she could feel the heat of him, the thrum of barely leashed power beneath his skin. "Stay away from the forest at night. Stay away from me."

And then he was gone, vanishing into the trees like smoke.

---

Lyra stood alone in the clearing, heart racing, his warmth still clinging to her skin.

What just happened?

She dropped to her knees, the weight of everything crashing down at once-the bruise on her face, the strange dreams, the Alpha's touch, his claim.

Her fingers brushed her birthmark absently, and for a moment, she swore it pulsed beneath her skin again. A warning. Or a promise.

---

Far deeper in the woods, Kael shifted as soon as he was clear of the human lands, his wolf bursting free in a ripple of muscle and bone. The shift was violent, painful, but he welcomed it, welcomed the distraction. His paws hit the earth hard, and he ran, faster than the wind, the rage in him burning like fire.

Joren.

His wolf would remember that name.

And when the time was right, it would end him.