Chapter 1 (1)
Chapter One == My knees sink into the damp soil, still moist from last night's rain, as the moon's gentle touch caresses my back. It feels like a soft kiss, cool yet comforting. Even though my wolf remains oddly silent, I know the moon has always had a soothing effect on both my human and animal sides. Opening my eyes, I gaze down at the space between my hands. My shoulder-length hair acts as a shield against the intense scrutiny surrounding us—my new mate, Johnny, and me. It's over now. Done. Yet neither of us moves. Instead, he molds his body against mine, his hot, muscled arm settling between my bare breasts as he buries his face in the crook of my neck and shoulders. His breath, hot and tense, stirs anticipation within me. But he doesn't do what I expect. He doesn't bite me. He simply holds me, struggling to steady his harsh breaths after our joining. In this midnight darkness, he's not alone in his fight for air. Wisps of smoky-white breath dance around us like ethereal spirits. It's hard to believe any of this is real. My first time, with anyone, and it's during my moon-blessing ceremony, in front of my pack, with a virtual stranger. If only Uncle had been kind enough to let Johnny and me meet before the ceremony so we could get to know each other. Then I could have confessed that I had only ever engaged in playful activities with the boys in my pack. I had never gone further than that. But Jesus Brown, my uncle, was never known for his kindness, especially towards me. Restlessly, I shift, unable to silence the rising tension awakened by Johnny—an intense yearning I desperately want him to fulfill. But I can't speak, or rather, I don't dare to. Demanding anything from anyone has only resulted in a slap, or worse. Usually, worse. So, while Johnny finds release, I dare not ask for more. I have a mate now. That should be enough, and I can finally leave. Wanting more would be considered greedy. Suddenly, howls erupt around us. Startled, I lift my head, realizing that they're for us—for our newly mated pairing. My hair shifts, revealing my face—no longer hidden beneath layers of dark-brown locks. Johnny interprets it as a sign that the ceremony is over. He jerks to his feet so abruptly that I'm caught off guard, unprepared for his sudden absence. Only then do I realize that he was the only thing keeping me upright. Without the support of his arms around me, my own muscles give way, and I collapse to the ground. At the last possible second, I manage to prevent myself from face-planting. Great, Alessandra. Making a fool of yourself in front of the pack. In front of Johnny. Just fantastic. But Johnny pays no attention to me or the watching pack. No, out of the corner of my eye, I see him stalking away towards the dense forest and the house a few minutes' walk away. His head held high, completely indifferent to his nudity. "Say your goodbyes. We leave tonight," Johnny announces in his low, rumbling voice, almost growling, before the thick trees swallow his tall, muscular figure, and he disappears from sight. Struggling to my feet, my knees trembling, all I can think about is my nakedness while everyone else in the pack has the advantage of their wolf forms to preserve their modesty. Not even a second passes before a flush of embarrassment spreads across my cheeks. Shifters like us are usually unfazed by sex or nudity since it's an intrinsic part of who we are. Changing shape means there will always be moments before and after the shift when others catch glimpses of our naked bodies. But not me. I don't shift anymore. It isn't safe for anyone, especially not for me. I have to fight the urge to rush over and snatch up my white silk robe lying neglected on the ground. Instead, I force myself to appear nonchalant as I casually stride towards the fabric, lying between me and my pack, their eyes glimmering like silver in the night. Former pack, I correct myself. After tonight, they won't be my pack anymore. As I bend down to retrieve the robe, a bare foot beats my fingers by a hair's breadth. Disbelieving, I stare at it. I would recognize that foot anywhere. Raising my head, I meet my uncle's eyes. They gleam with malice. No surprises there. "You'll have to do better than that," he says with a smirk, "if you want to keep a hold of your new mate." I flinch, unable to ignore the fact that seconds after our mating ceremony, my new mate is walking away from me without a single backward glance. The most painful barbs are always the ones intertwined with truth, the ones that haunt me relentlessly. "Yes, Jesus," I murmur. "Alpha!" he snaps, taking a step forward. Crossing my arms over my chest, I take a step back, refusing to meet his gaze. The rest of the pack watches me intently, most of them having shifted back into their human forms by now. Except for the submissives and those lower in the pack hierarchy. It takes them longer than a few seconds to shift, unlike my uncle—an Alpha. Predatory anticipation fills the air as they wait to see what my uncle will do to me this time. How will he punish me for some perceived wrong or slight? With Johnny's declaration that we're leaving tonight, he has taken away my uncle's last chance to strike at me. If he wants to do anything, it has to be now. "Yes, Alpha," I utter, focusing on the foot he still has planted on my robe. Out of nowhere, his hand lunges forward, and suddenly, I'm gasping for air, my fingers clawing at his tight grip around my neck. In an instant, I go from standing to teetering on the tips of my toes as he lifts me off the ground. "Is that mockery I hear?"
Chapter 1 (2)
Struggling to catch my breath, I find myself unable to respond to Jesus. I can only hope that he either releases me soon or that my new mate, whoever he may be, comes back to save me. But what this Johnny Rogers would do, I have no clue. The mere idea of him rescuing anyone, especially me, is absurd. "Answer me!" Jesus snaps, as if I possess the ability to speak in my current state. Desperation fills me as I shake my head, indicating a definitive "no." The sound that escapes my throat is nothing more than a feeble gasp, and my vision starts to darken as I teeter on the edge of unconsciousness. Having experienced this before, I've become well-versed in recognizing the signs. "Is there a problem?" The voice, cool and smooth, grabs my attention, causing my eyes to dart to the side, though I can't see much. Especially now, as my uncle drops me to my knees, leaving me hunched over and gasping for air. It's Johnny. He's dressed once again in his ripped, dark denim jeans and worn, brown leather cowboy boots, with a crumpled shirt in his hands as if he had just gone to retrieve his clothes from the house and returned without bothering to finish getting dressed first. "Problem?" My uncle smiles, and even without looking at him, I can sense his mood, a skill I've developed for survival. Automatically, I brace myself for what's to come. "Just Alessandra struggling to remember her place." "Really? I thought submissives didn't need reminding," Johnny's gruff voice carries a hint of amusement. I'm not sure if he finds me amusing or if it's directed at Jesus. While they're engrossed in their conversation, I slowly rise to my feet, hoping they don't notice. I try to make myself invisible, if I'm being honest. If I could have any superpower, that would be the first thing I'd ask for. The ability to turn invisible. Or perhaps the power to strike my uncle dead with a single thought. Either one works. Jesus shrugs. "This one, my niece, she does. She needs a firm hand, if you catch my drift." He doesn't need to spell it out. I see the darkness stirring in his eyes, and I know exactly what it means. Or rather, what he's instructing Johnny to do to me. I glance nervously at Johnny. How will he respond? My uncle is granting him permission to beat me into submission, and for an alpha wolf, the power and opportunity to dominate must make him salivate. But as Johnny studies my uncle, his expression remains unreadable. And as if he feels my gaze on him, he turns his head to meet my eyes. Immediately, I lower my gaze to his feet before I can see what lies in his eyes, praying that he shifts his focus elsewhere, and soon. If I'm about to face the same treatment from him as I have endured here, I don't want to witness the truth in his eyes. I'd rather not see it coming. Ignorance is bliss, after all. "Get dressed." I assume Johnny is speaking to me, but I don't lift my head to confirm. It must be me, since it sounds like a command, and I'm all too familiar with those. I notice Jesus still has one foot on my silky white robe, leaving an imprint visible on the back. I'll have to wear it. A robe with his foot literally stamped across it. It seems like the universe is having a field day with me. And this ultimate humiliation is happening right in front of the quintessential dark angel, Johnny Rogers. He may be dangerous, but no one wants to be embarrassed in front of someone as beautiful as Johnny. But I have no choice. I must either put on the robe or continue standing here naked, attempting and failing to use my shoulder-length hair to shield my body. It's not an easy task. So, as I move toward the robe, a soft weight lands on my chest, and I instinctively catch it before glancing down. Soft black cotton, carrying his scent. Johnny's shirt. I shoot him a surprised look, even though I tell myself I shouldn't. As a submissive, I'm never supposed to eagerly meet or hold an alpha's gaze for more than a second or two. "Put it on. We're leaving," he says. "But you haven't bitten her yet." My uncle's voice is sly, and I tear my eyes away from Johnny's, only to find myself drawn back to him seconds later, as if I can't resist. Is he worried that Johnny might change his mind and try to return me at some point? Although we mated under the moon, and such a ceremony is typically permanent, it doesn't always guarantee a lasting bond. For that to happen, he must bite me. Leave his mark on me. A permanent symbol of his claim. For a moment, Johnny hesitates, and something flickers in his eyes, and then it becomes clear. Jesus was right to remind him. He had planned on returning me. The thought of him discarding me sends a surge of agony through me, leaving me breathless. I struggle to contain my rising panic that he's going to walk away from me. Leave me with Jesus. It's rare for a mating to end like this. But it has happened enough times to be recognized for what it truly is. We shifters mate for life, just like wolves, so for him to abandon me would be the ultimate rejection. It would confirm that a moon-blessed mate doesn't see you as enough, and no shifter wants what has been discarded by another. I wait for him to admit it. To turn and walk away, leaving me with my uncle. Oh god, if that happens, I'll be lucky to survive the punishment. It would be better for me to take my own life than to deal with the aftermath. But before I can react, or even comprehend what I had planned on doing, Johnny grabs my arm and lowers his face to the curve of my neck and shoulder. The sharpness of his bite catches me off guard, and just as I'm about to raise my hands to push him away, he releases me. I gingerly touch the sore bite mark on my neck as I take a step back. The pain subsides quickly, and although the mark will soon heal, the faint imprint of Johnny's claim will always remain, serving as evidence of our mating.
Chapter 1 (3)
Raising his head, he gazes down at me, his hand instinctively reaching up to wipe away a smudge of blood—my blood—from his lower lip. His eyes shimmer with flecks of silver, an unmistakable sign that his wolf is in control. "Mate," he growls possessively. It's the wolf speaking, but what does the man behind those intense eyes think? I can't even begin to fathom. Mate. The word echoes in my mind as I struggle to find my voice. But over the years, it has been beaten out of me, buried deep within, requiring a strength I no longer possess to unearth it. Before I comprehend what's happening, Johnny tugs me along, heading towards the house and his parked car. And all the while, I'm desperately trying to pull his shirt over my head as I stumble after him. Blinded by the fabric, my foot catches on something rough and knobby, like the gnarled root of a tree. I start to topple forward, but Johnny is already there, catching me and setting me back on my feet without missing a beat. Finally freeing myself from the shirt, I have to half-run to keep up with his long strides that eat up the ground beneath us. I can feel the piercing stares of the pack on my back. But it's my uncle's dark amusement that lingers, following me and Johnny. I've achieved what I've always wanted—to escape Jesus Brown—but at what cost? As I walk away from the wretched life I've known, the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. The situation I'm walking into could be a thousand times worse. But I can't afford to dwell on that. If I do, fear will consume me, and everyone knows what happens when you run from wolves. They give chase, sinking their teeth in with unyielding force. There isn't a pack in Colorado, or perhaps even in the entire country, that hasn't heard of the ruthless alpha, Johnny Rogers. They know how he mercilessly killed the previous alpha, his bare hands showing no mercy. And those who haven't heard that tale would have surely heard about how he slaughtered his own family, women and pups alike. We all understand the depths of his brutality. And now, I'm mated to him. A bond that cannot be broken except by death. But it also means liberation from Jesus Brown and the suffocating grip of my pack in Dawley, Colorado. Escape is all I've yearned for since my parents fell victim to hunters. In just two weeks, I'll turn twenty-three. Yet, there's no guarantee that my new mate will grant me the chance to celebrate another year. And that's not even the half of it, because my mate, Johnny Rogers, is the Alpha of the Rogers pack, while I, the lowest submissive in my uncle's pack, am expected to be the Luna—the most dominant female in the entire pack. The thought fills me with terror. Lead? Me? What in the world do I know about leading a pack?
Chapter 2 (1)
Chapter Two As the small Colorado town of my birth and upbringing fades into the distance, a wave of realization washes over me. It's not thoughts of my uncle and the pack's mistreatment that occupy my mind. No, it's the fact that I forgot to put on a pair of goddamn panties. Thankfully, there isn't much I feel devastated about leaving behind. Besides a few photos of my parents who passed away when I was eight, I can easily replace everything else from the nearest Walmart. That's just how Jesus Brown rolls. The epitome of frugality. At least I won't have to see him again now that Johnny's pack is up in northern Colorado. Our paths will never cross. So, I lean back in my seat, momentarily content with the fact that the t-shirt Johnny threw at me is long enough to cover most of my thighs, sparing me from complete exposure. And he's turned on the radio, so we're not sitting in silence. Well, I lie. He did speak, but not to me. As soon as we left Merrick pack territory, he speed-dialed someone and didn't even let them speak. Just barked into the phone, "I have her. I'll see you tomorrow," and hung up. And that's been the extent of our conversation in Johnny's car for over an hour. It doesn't surprise me that Johnny has the radio tuned to a rock station, the classic kind, not too heavy. Relaxed. I don't recognize any of the songs or bands, and it's a bit too loud for my taste. But judging by the way he taps his fingers against the steering wheel and the gradual softening of his tense jawline, this station and these songs are familiar to him. They bring him comfort. Considering he doesn't look a day over thirty—maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight—I'm surprised he listens to music that I would expect older people to enjoy. I can't help but wonder who introduced him to this music since he doesn't strike me as someone with a lot of friends. He's too intense for that. But he's not the only one letting go of tension now that we're leaving Dawley behind. Although, in my case, it's not the music that's calming me down, but rather his complete disregard for my presence. No threats, no attacks—physical or mental—and I find myself uncertain about what to do without these familiar touchstones that have been a part of my life for so long. For the first few miles, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as he drove, still shirtless since he didn't bother to put on another top before we left my pack. It wasn't his muscles, which are more defined than any other shifter in my pack, that kept me staring. No, I was convinced that he was waiting for the first opportunity to pull over and kick me out of his truck. The scent of my fear filled the air so strongly that he couldn't possibly have missed it. And if, by some strange miracle, he did miss it, there's no way he didn't notice me pressing myself against the car door every time he reached to change gears. I thought that would be the moment when all the bad would start again, and he would continue where Jesus had left off. That is, if he didn't just dump me on the side of the road to fend for myself. My uncle always reminded me that lone wolves never last long. But none of that happened. Instead, he just kept driving as if he were completely unaware of my fear. And as the minutes ticked by and we got further away from my old pack, I started to relax. Once the overwhelming scent of my fear faded away, I caught a whiff of his scent. One thing is for certain, Johnny Rogers is as attractive as he is dangerous, and his scent is driving my wolf crazy, making her want to press against him for a closer sniff, even as my mind warns me to stay as far away from him as possible. There's a wildness to his scent, a crisp blend of cedar and frost, that tells me he loves the outdoors—maybe as much as I do. His pack might even be within sight of the Rockies, the majestic mountain range that has haunted my memories since my parents took me there when I was just a toddler. I used to have a picture of me sitting on my father's broad shoulders with the mountains in the background. We had the widest smiles on our faces. My mom must have been the one taking the picture, since she wasn't in it. If I can't have my parents back, the mountains are the next best thing. They're the clearest memory I have of them, the only time I remember being truly happy. But it's nothing more than wishful thinking. Johnny Rogers, the cold-hearted alpha, taking me on romantic walks through the forest to show me picturesque views of snow-capped mountains? Yeah, right. I almost scoff at the idea. Happiness like that, a relationship like that, will never be a part of my future. But at least I'm away from Jesus Brown and that part of my life is over. I remind myself of this as I turn my face towards the window and stifle a yawn. We've been driving for almost an hour now, which means it's around one in the morning. Apparently, there's something magical about conducting ceremonies under the moon. Not that I feel any different. My attraction to Johnny is still purely physical. The mate bond is something that develops over time, and right now, we're still complete strangers. My mind drifts back to the first time I saw him, standing at the edge of the clearing in my short silk robe. He was in the midst of a conversation with Jesus, and the severity on his face made it clear that they were not friends, nor would they ever be. His short, dark beard caught me off guard. For a moment, I had the urge to reach out and touch it, even though I knew I never would. Something about his posture, the expression on his face, warned me to stay away. But that wasn't enough to silence the small voice inside me that secretly rejoiced at the fact that he was the one I was destined to mate with, that he would be my first. Despite everything he was capable of, despite everything he had done.
Chapter 2 (2)
I hadn't even realized I had stopped until one of the pack members prodded me with a finger—a finger she had transformed into a claw—right in my back. I yelped in surprise at the unexpected attack. Johnny's expression remained unreadable as he turned at the sound of my cry, but Jesus's smirk told me everything I needed to know. He had always encouraged that kind of behavior. The more petty and spiteful, the better. Especially if it caught me off guard and made me cry out. It hadn't always been like this with the pack. A long time ago, when my parents were still alive, they wouldn't have dared to hurt me. But ever since Jesus Brown took over as the new alpha, following the footsteps of his older brother and my father, they all fell in line, one by one. * * * I jolted awake as someone shook me vigorously. "Wake up," Johnny's voice broke through my sleepy haze. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was, my head resting against the car window, overlooking a dimly lit, half-empty parking lot. And then it hit me who was shaking me and what he was capable of doing with just his bare hands. Inhaling sharply, fear filled the interior of Johnny's truck once again as I pulled my shoulder away from his grip and pressed myself against the car door. Silence enveloped the car, and I kept my eyes fixed on my lap, afraid of what I might see if I glanced over at him. He didn't say a word, and his guarded demeanor made it impossible to decipher even the faintest hint of his emotions. It was strange, considering we were now mates. I wondered if it was because he was as cold as everyone claimed he was or if I had somehow managed to ruin the bond between us in the short time we had been mates. I convinced myself that it was probably my fault, like everything else always seemed to be. Before I could gather my thoughts or express myself, he abruptly opened his door and stepped out of the car. "Wait here," he growled, his voice sounding more wolf than man. Fear surged through me at the sound. The car shook and creaked as he forcefully slammed the door shut, causing me to jump. Then, he stalked towards a dimly lit building. I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from the sharply defined muscles on his back as he walked towards the entrance. With a swift motion, he yanked the door open and disappeared inside. If I hadn't been anticipating such a long and eventful day, filled with change and fear, I might have slept better the night before. And with the benefit of a good night's sleep, I might not have been so surprised that we would be stopping at a motel on our way to his pack. His pack. My former pack now, based in central Colorado, while his resided in the north. It seemed obvious now that we couldn't make the drive in one night. So, here we were, staying in a motel room. Just him and me. A room with a bed. The thought crossed my mind—would he want to have sex? My mouth went dry as I entertained the idea. But I quickly dismissed it with a snort. Why would Johnny want anything to do with a plain, brown-haired, brown-eyed broken shifter like me when someone as attractive as him, no matter the crimes he may have committed, could have any girl he desired? He hadn't brought any of his pack members to the moon-blessing ceremony, not even his beta. It stung because a moon-blessing ceremony was a celebration, and no one celebrated such an important event as a newly mated couple without their family by their side. Was it shame? Was he embarrassed by the idea of being with me? I told myself it didn't matter. What mattered was that I was away from Jesus, that he couldn't hurt me anymore. But like all wounds, it wasn't easy to simply shrug off. To distract myself, I observed Johnny as he booked a room through the glass-fronted building. It was more of a box room, to be honest, and all I could see through the glass was a counter and a wiry young man standing behind it. With my heightened shifter sight, I watched the exchange as the young man had Johnny fill out paperwork before taking a credit card out of his back pocket. Surprisingly, the guy didn't seem fazed by the fact that Johnny was driving around shirtless at... I glanced at the car dashboard, nearly two in the morning. But I suppose working nights at a motel off the highway exposed you to all sorts of things, making nothing truly surprising anymore. I would have expected Johnny to at least put on a shirt from the clothes he must have had in his trunk. But when I took a quick peek, there was nothing in the backseat of the spotless truck. He didn't strike me as the type of guy who enjoyed spending his downtime cleaning, despite the scruffy cowboy boots and dark blond hair that looked like he preferred running his fingers through it rather than using a brush. Since this was my first real opportunity to examine him without him being close enough to notice, I took my time. However, it was the tattoo on his arm that captured my attention once I had my fill of admiring his tanned muscles—for the time being, at least. The tattoo encircling his arm was an intricate design depicting a pack of wolves. Young and old pups alike roamed the inked wilderness. Some prowled, while others seemed ready to pounce on a sleeping wolf. One wolf appeared to be watching over the others. It was an incredible piece of art, and I found it impossible to tear my eyes away from it. Unbeknownst to me, I had become the center of attention. When I finally realized this, I snapped my head up, and through the window, my gaze clashed with Johnny's piercing ice-blue eyes as he leaned against the counter, his expression neutral. Panicking, I quickly averted my eyes and focused them back on my lap. My heart pounded in my chest, fearing the consequences of meeting an alpha's gaze. In the shifter world, holding an alpha's gaze was considered challenging their position. It was a provocation, and if Johnny thought that was what I was doing... well, he had every right to punish me for it. So, with my heart threatening to burst out of my chest, I forced myself to calm down, waiting with a growing sense of terror as I heard him push the reception door open.
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