The air in the guard room was cold, smelling of stone, sweat, and the sharp, clean scent of powerful wolves. Liana's heart hammered a frantic tattoo against her ribs, a trapped bird seeking escape. The silver chains around her wrists weren't just restraints; they were a brand, a reminder of her status as less than wolf, as prey.
"Breathe, Liana. In and out," Alia's voice came, a steadying presence in the storm of her panic. "We are not in the dirt now. Look at him."
Her gaze, against her will, was dragged upward. He stood beside his father, the Alpha—a younger, more vibrant mirror of the older wolf's imposing authority. He was tall, easily 6'5", with a lean, powerful build that spoke of speed as much as strength. Black curls fell over a brow furrowed in intense scrutiny. His skin was a warm, sun-touched olive, and his eyes… Goddess, his eyes. They weren't just green. They were the color of the deepest forest pool, of lily pads shimmering under a hidden sun, and they were fixed on her with an intensity that stole the air from her lungs. Her gaze dropped to his lips, full and set in a firm line, and a primal, shocking urge surged through her—to close the distance, to taste, to claim. The silver at her wrists burned in protest.
"He is our mate," Alia purred, the sound rich with satisfaction and awe. "And he is the prince. The next Alpha. They will not harm their future Luna. We are safe now."
A hysterical laugh bubbled in Liana's throat. Safe? "But what if he rejects me?" she whispered back into the private channel of their mind, her eyes darting to the Alpha's stern face. "What if he looks at me and sees only a trespassing rogue and orders me killed?"
"Then we run," Alia said, her tone turning fierce. "As we have always run. But look at him, Liana. He is not looking at a prisoner. He is looking at a mystery."
A new scent cut through the smells of fear and stone—rich, deep, intoxicating. It was hot chocolate on a winter night, the comforting warmth cut through with the sharp, clean aroma of rain-soaked cedarwood. It was him. It was safety and desire and home, all wrapped in a scent that made her knees weak. She inhaled deeply, trying to anchor herself in it.
The Alpha's voice boomed, shattering her fragile focus. "Who are you, and what is your purpose in my territory?"
Liana flinched, the command in his tone scraping against old wounds. She kept her head bowed, not out of mere respect, but because the weight of a lifetime of keeping her eyes downcast was a hard habit to break.
"My name is Liana," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"Look at me when you are addressed," the Alpha commanded, his power a physical pressure in the room.
Slowly, she forced her chin up. Her eyes met not the Alpha's, but her mate's. Those mesmerizing green pools held hers, and in them, she saw not just suspicion, but a dawning, bewildered recognition. The mate bond, silent and invisible, pulsed between them like a live wire.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" the Alpha repeated, impatience edging his tone.
A wave of despair washed over her. "I am no one, Alpha," she murmured, the old lie falling from her lips by rote. "Just a lone wolf wandering through the woods." Just trash cast out by the roadside.
Her mate—Adrian, his name came to her in a sudden, sure knowing—spoke. His voice was deeper than his father's, younger, but no less authoritative. "Are you a spy?"
"No." The denial was swift, born of truth. She was many things, but not that.
"Why are you a rogue?" he asked, and there was a thread of genuine curiosity there, not just interrogation.
The question was a key turning in a rusty lock, opening a door to a dark room she kept sealed.
---
Flashback - Five Years Earlier
The Blackwood Pack clearing was muddy, the air thick with the scent of wet pine and contempt. Fifteen-year-old Liana was on her knees, not in submission, but because the blow from Beta Marcus had knocked her there.
"Freak," he spat, standing over her. A circle of pack members, including her own parents, looked on, their faces a mixture of fear and grim satisfaction. "Show us again, little witch. Heal this."
He slashed his own palm with a small knife, a shallow cut. Blood welled. The command was a trap. If she refused, she was disobedient. If she complied…
Trembling, Liana reached out. She focused, that strange warmth gathering in her core, flowing down her arm. Her fingertips glowed with that faint, tell-tale white-gold light. As she touched his hand, the skin knitted itself clean. A murmur, part awe, part terror, rippled through the crowd.
Beta Marcus snatched his hand back as if burned. "Sorcery!" he roared. "Unnatural! The Moon Goddess gave us fangs and fur to heal in our own time, not… this abomination!"
The alpha stepped forward, his face a mask of shame. "It draws too much attention, Liana. The other packs… they will say we consort with witches. They will fear us, or worse, covet you. You are a danger to the pack."
"I can help!" she'd pleaded, tears mixing with the mud on her cheeks. "I healed little Maya's fever last moon! I can be useful!"
"A pack is strength in unity, in sameness," her mother said quietly, unable to meet her eyes. "Your… gift… it sets you apart. It breeds jealousy and fear. For the good of all, you must suppress it. Or leave."
They had chosen for her. The "leave" was not a choice, but an expulsion dressed in polite silence. That night, under a cold, indifferent moon, she was escorted to the border. Beta Marcus's final words hissed in her ear: "Run far, witch-pup. And if you ever use that trick near a civilized pack again, they'll put you down like the aberration you are."
---
Present
"I had no choice," Liana heard herself say to the prince, the ghost of old mud and betrayal clinging to her words. "I left my previous pack."
"Why were you cast out?" Adrian pressed. His gaze was piercing, seeing too much.
The memory of her father's averted eyes, her mother's cold practicality, the pack's collective rejection, rose like bile. He can't know, she screamed internally. If his own pack, his own parents, see me as a monster, how could he, a prince, ever accept me? The bond would mean nothing against that.
"It's nothing," she whispered aloud, the lie ash in her mouth. She looked at him, at this beautiful, powerful stranger who was hers by destiny, and felt the gulf between them yawn wide and hopeless. "I'm just… different. You wouldn't understand."
A hot blush scalded her fair skin, betraying her. She saw his eyes drop to the flush creeping over her cheeks and neck, his own expression unreadable.
The Alpha, Theron, had watched the exchange in silence. Now, he made a swift, decisive gesture. "Take her to the east tower guest chamber. See that she is fed. She will remain there until we decide what is to be done."
The guards moved forward. As they led her away, Liana chanced one last look over her shoulder.
Adrian was still staring after her, his father speaking low and urgently into his ear. But Adrian wasn't listening. His green eyes were locked on her retreating form, filled not with the triumph of a captor, nor the disgust she feared, but with a profound, world-altering confusion.
The door to the guard room closed, cutting off his scent, his sight. But in the dark of the corridor, chained and led to another unknown cage, Liana clutched one fragile, terrifying hope to her chest. He had looked at her. And for a moment, he had not seen a spy, or a rogue, or a monster.
He had simply seen her. And that was more terrifying, and more wonderful, than anything she had ever known.