Claimed by the Alpha King

The forest was alive with the sound of snapping twigs and the echo of hurried breaths. Rowan Ashwood's legs burned as she sprinted through the dark woods, her heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. Shadows seemed to stretch out like claws, reaching for her as she darted between towering pines. The moon hung heavy above her, full and unrelenting, bathing the forest in a cold, silver light that made it impossible to hide.

She could feel them behind her-the rogue wolves. Their growls cut through the night like a blade, their heavy footfalls drawing closer with each passing second. Rowan's instincts screamed at her to shift, to unleash the wolf within her, but she couldn't risk it. If she shifted, the scent of her omega would hit them full force, and they'd never stop hunting her.

"Keep running," she whispered to herself, her voice hoarse. "Don't stop. Not now."

The thick underbrush scraped against her legs, tearing at her jeans, but she didn't slow down. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled-a chilling, triumphant sound that sent shivers racing down her spine.

"Split up!" one of the rogues barked. The rough voice was human, but it carried the guttural snarl of a wolf just beneath the surface.

Rowan pushed herself harder, her lungs burning as she climbed the ridge ahead. She couldn't let them catch her. Not again.

Memories of her last encounter with rogues flashed in her mind-how they'd dragged her from her hiding spot, how their hands had gripped her arms like iron shackles. She clenched her jaw, forcing the memories away. She wouldn't let that happen again. She'd rather die.

When she crested the ridge, the forest opened up, revealing a wide, moonlit clearing. Rowan skidded to a stop, her boots digging into the dirt. She froze, her chest heaving, as she took in the sight before her.

A figure stood in the center of the clearing.

He was tall, his broad shoulders cutting a commanding silhouette against the silver light. His dark hair caught the moonlight, gleaming like raven feathers, and his piercing amber eyes locked onto hers with a force that nearly brought her to her knees.

Dominic Blackthorn. The Alpha King.

Rowan's breath hitched. She had heard stories of him-everyone had. The ruthless ruler of the Shadowmoon Territory. The wolf who struck fear into both allies and enemies alike. But none of the stories had prepared her for the raw power that radiated off him like heat from a flame.

"Run, little omega," he said, his deep voice rolling over her like thunder. "See where it gets you."

Her heart stuttered, but she quickly masked her fear with defiance. "I didn't ask for your help."

Dominic tilted his head, his sharp gaze raking over her like he was assessing her worth. "And yet, here you are, bringing trouble to my doorstep."

Behind her, the sound of footsteps drew closer. The rogues were catching up. Rowan's pulse quickened, and she turned to look over her shoulder. She was trapped.

"You have two options," Dominic said, his voice as calm as if they were discussing the weather. "Come with me willingly, or let them have you."

Rowan whipped back around to face him, her green eyes blazing. "I'm not yours to command."

Dominic took a slow step toward her, his boots crunching against the dirt. The weight of his presence was suffocating, and yet there was something magnetic about him that made it impossible to look away.

"You'd rather die than accept help?" he asked, his voice laced with mockery.

"I'd rather die than belong to anyone," she snapped.

His lips twitched, as if her defiance amused him. "Brave words for someone out of options."

Before she could respond, the rogues burst into the clearing, their snarls filling the air. There were three of them, their eyes glowing with the golden hue of wolves on the hunt.

"She's ours," one of them growled, his canines flashing as he shifted halfway, his claws extending.

Dominic didn't move. He didn't even flinch. He simply looked at them, his expression carved from stone.

"She belongs to me," he said, his voice low and deadly.

Rowan stiffened. "I don't-"

Dominic shot her a sharp look that silenced her protest.

The rogues hesitated, their snarls faltering as they seemed to recognize who stood before them.

"Blackthorn," one of them muttered, his voice tinged with fear.

"Leave," Dominic commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

For a moment, the rogues looked like they might challenge him. Then Dominic took a step forward, and his aura hit them like a physical force. The power of an Alpha King.

The rogues bolted without another word, disappearing into the forest like shadows retreating from the light.

Rowan stared at him, her chest heaving. She hated how relieved she felt.

"You're welcome," Dominic said dryly.

She glared at him. "I didn't ask you to save me."

"No," he said, his amber eyes gleaming as he took another step closer, "but now you owe me."

Her jaw tightened. "I don't owe you anything."

Dominic's gaze lingered on her for a long moment, as if he were memorizing every detail of her face. Then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"You can't run forever, Rowan Ashwood."

Her stomach twisted. How did he know her name?

Before she could respond, he turned and strode back into the forest, leaving her standing alone in the clearing, her heart pounding and her mind racing.

She hated him.

And yet, she couldn't ignore the strange pull she felt in his presence.

A pull that terrified her more than any rogue ever could.

Rowan didn't move. Her feet felt rooted to the ground, as though Dominic's presence had left an invisible chain wrapped around her ankles. She stared at the spot where he had disappeared into the forest, her breathing uneven.

What had just happened? And how in the name of the moon did he know her name?

The forest had gone silent, the usual rustle of leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures swallowed by an oppressive stillness. It was as though the forest itself had held its breath while the Alpha King stood within it, and now, in his absence, it dared to exhale.

Rowan clenched her fists, willing the trembling in her hands to stop. He'd saved her-fine. But that didn't mean she owed him anything, no matter what he thought.

The pull she felt toward him, though-that was something else entirely. It wasn't just his aura, as overwhelming as it was. It was the bond. The cursed bond.

Rowan growled low in her throat and turned on her heel, pushing herself back into the woods. She couldn't afford to dwell on it. She had bigger problems to deal with-like finding somewhere safe to hide before the rogues regrouped.

The moon was high overhead as she made her way deeper into the forest, sticking to the shadows. Her legs ached, and every muscle in her body begged her to stop, but she forced herself onward. She wouldn't let Dominic Blackthorn be the last person she saw before sunrise.

The next morning, the town of Ashridge was bustling as humans went about their daily routines. Market stalls lined the cobblestone streets, vendors shouting over one another to advertise fresh produce, handwoven fabrics, and trinkets.

Rowan blended in easily, her hood pulled low over her face as she slipped through the crowd. No one paid her any mind. To them, she was just another young woman from the outskirts of town. They didn't know she was a wolf.

She made her way to the small apothecary where she worked, ducking through the door and letting out a soft sigh of relief as the familiar scents of dried herbs and oils greeted her. The shop was quiet, as it always was this early in the day.

"Late night?"

Rowan startled, spinning to see Claire, the apothecary's owner, watching her from behind the counter. Claire was human, but she had always been kind to Rowan, even if she suspected there was more to her young assistant than met the eye.

"You could say that," Rowan muttered, pulling her hood back. Her hair, wild and auburn, tumbled down around her shoulders.

Claire raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, I've got a shipment of valerian root that needs sorting. Think you can handle it?"

"Of course." Rowan forced a smile and moved to the back room, grateful for the distraction.

She worked in silence, her hands methodically sorting the dried herbs into labeled jars. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, her mind kept drifting back to the clearing. To Dominic.

The way he had looked at her, like he was trying to unravel every secret she had ever kept. The way his voice had wrapped around her, low and commanding, making her feel both furious and... something else.

She shook her head sharply. "Focus," she muttered to herself.

But her reprieve didn't last long.

The bell above the apothecary door jingled, and Rowan froze at the sound of heavy boots against the wooden floor. Her heart sank as the unmistakable scent of pine and smoke filled the air.

Dominic.

She stayed hidden in the back room, her breath shallow as she pressed herself against the wall. Maybe if she stayed quiet, he would leave.

"Rowan."

Her name rolled off his tongue like a command, sending a shiver down her spine.

Claire's voice floated in from the front. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I'm here for her," Dominic replied smoothly.

Rowan bit her lip to keep from cursing. Of course he wouldn't leave. He was the Alpha King. He always got what he wanted.

"Rowan," he called again, his tone sharper this time.

She sighed, knowing she couldn't avoid him forever. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the front room, her expression carefully blank.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice cold.

Dominic turned to face her, his amber eyes narrowing slightly. "We need to talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"Then you can listen."

Claire glanced between them, clearly sensing the tension. "Should I... leave you two alone?"

"Yes," Dominic said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rowan shot Claire an apologetic look as the older woman quickly gathered her things and slipped out the door.

The moment they were alone, Rowan crossed her arms over her chest. "You can't just barge in here and-"

"I warned you," Dominic interrupted, his voice low and even. "You can't run forever, Rowan."

Her jaw clenched. "I'm not running. I'm surviving."

"Is that what you call it? Hiding in a human town, pretending to be something you're not?"

His words hit a nerve, and she bristled. "What do you want from me?"

Dominic took a step closer, his presence filling the small space. "You're mine," he said simply.

The bond flared between them, a pulse of heat that left Rowan breathless. She hated it. Hated that he could affect her so deeply with just a few words.

"I'm not yours," she said through gritted teeth.

Dominic tilted his head, studying her. "Not yet."

Her stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something she didn't want to name.

"Get out," she snapped.

To her surprise, he smirked. "I'll leave. For now. But this isn't over, Rowan. Not by a long shot."

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving her shaking with a mixture of fury and fear-and something she couldn't quite explain.

The apothecary door swung shut behind him, the soft chime of the bell a mockery of the storm he left behind. Rowan stood frozen, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Her chest heaved, every nerve in her body on fire.

"Arrogant bastard," she muttered under her breath.

The room still carried the faint scent of him-pine, smoke, and power. It clung to her like an invisible shackle, refusing to let her go. She wanted to scream, to rage at the unfairness of it all. Of him.

Rowan dragged in a shaky breath, forcing herself to move. She needed to do something, anything, to regain control of her spinning thoughts. Her hands trembled as she reached for the jars of herbs on the counter, but her mind was elsewhere.

Why had he come here? What did he really want?

His words echoed in her mind: "You're mine."

"No," she said aloud, her voice sharp, as if saying it would make it true. "I don't belong to anyone."

But deep down, a small, traitorous part of her whispered that the bond didn't care about her defiance. The bond didn't care about her independence or her hatred for him. It only cared about what it was meant to do: tie her to Dominic Blackthorn in a way she couldn't escape.

The day dragged on, each hour heavier than the last. Rowan tried to focus on her work, but her mind remained in turmoil. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of crimson and gold, she was utterly exhausted-physically and emotionally.

She locked up the apothecary and made her way to her small cottage on the outskirts of town. The streets were quieter now, the bustling energy of the day replaced by the soft hum of evening life.

Rowan's cottage was modest but cozy, tucked away behind a cluster of trees. It was her sanctuary, a place where she could breathe without feeling the weight of expectations or danger pressing down on her.

As she stepped inside, she bolted the door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes. For a moment, she allowed herself to relax, to believe she was safe.

But the peace didn't last.

A knock echoed through the small space, sharp and commanding.

Her eyes flew open, and her heart sank. She didn't need to ask who it was. She already knew.

Rowan hesitated, her pulse racing. Maybe if she ignored him, he'd go away.

Another knock, louder this time.

"Rowan," Dominic's voice called through the door, low and firm. "Open the door."

She swore under her breath. "Go away, Blackthorn!"

"I'm not leaving," he replied, completely unfazed by her anger.

Rowan pushed off the door, pacing the small room like a caged animal. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

The third knock was accompanied by a hint of amusement in his tone. "You can either let me in, or I'll let myself in."

Her head snapped toward the door, fury blazing in her eyes. "Don't you dare-"

The sound of the lock clicking cut her off.

Rowan's jaw dropped as the door swung open, revealing Dominic standing there, calm as ever, his amber eyes gleaming with challenge.

"You-" she sputtered, her voice rising. "You broke into my house?"

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him as if he owned the place. "Technically, I didn't break anything."

"Get. Out."

Dominic ignored her, his gaze sweeping over the small cottage. "This is where you've been hiding?"

Rowan stepped in front of him, her body taut with anger. "I'm serious. Get out."

He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "Do you really think you can keep pushing me away, Rowan? The bond won't let you."

Her throat tightened, but she refused to back down. "The bond doesn't control me. You don't control me."

A flicker of frustration crossed his face. "You can't fight what's already been set in motion."

"I can damn well try," she shot back.

Dominic's jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with tension, the kind that made her skin prickle and her wolf stir restlessly within her.

"I didn't come here to argue," he said finally, his voice softer but no less firm.

"Then why are you here?"

"To warn you," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "You're in danger."

Rowan blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "Danger?"

"Malachi knows who you are," Dominic said. "He knows what you mean to me."

Her stomach dropped. "I don't mean anything to you."

He stepped closer, his amber eyes darkening. "You mean everything, Rowan. And that makes you a target."

She swallowed hard, trying to process his words. Malachi Darkfang. The traitorous beta who wanted Dominic's throne. If he knew about her...

"You're lying," she said, though her voice wavered.

"I wish I were," Dominic replied. "But he's already sent scouts into your territory. It's only a matter of time before he makes his move."

Rowan's mind raced. She didn't want to believe him, but something in his tone told her he wasn't exaggerating.

"What do you expect me to do?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

"Come with me," he said without hesitation. "Let me protect you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Protect me? Or keep me under your control?"

His lips curved into a faint smirk. "Does it matter, as long as you're safe?"

Rowan took a step back, her heart pounding. She hated him for putting her in this position, for forcing her to consider trusting him.

"I don't need your protection," she said, though the words felt hollow even to her own ears.

Dominic studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Fine. But when the danger comes knocking, don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Rowan sank onto the edge of her bed, her hands shaking. She didn't trust Dominic, but if what he said was true...

She didn't have long to decide what to do next.