Page 3 of His Mark

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Whoever it was, they weren’t going away.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair as I shook off the last remnants of sleep.

Jax’s voice filtered through the wood, rapt with urgency.

“Silas. You need to come out here. Now.”

I yanked the door open, cold air slamming into me like a punch to the gut. Jax stood on the other side, his expression carved from stone, his breath visible in the frigid night air.

“We caught someone sneaking around the perimeter,” he said without preamble. “A human woman.”

I stiffened. “Alone?”

Jax nodded. “No tracks leading in or out except hers. Either she’s the best damn scout I’ve ever seen, or she’s exactly what she looks like—someone stupid enough to think she could sneak past us.”

My stomach clenched. Humans didn’t wander up this deep into the mountains by accident. Either they were running from something, or they were sent. Neither option sat well with me, but I’d find out what it was, one way or another, before the night was out.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Main clearing. We tied her up, blindfolded her in case she’s a scout or a spy.” Jax’s lip curled. “Just so you know, she fought like hell. I doubt getting any information from her is going to be easy.”

I let out a slow breath and grabbed my jacket off the chair. “Let’s go.”

I followed him to the central campfire where my wolves stood in a loose ring, their faces painted with suspicion, their stances ready for violence if it came to that.

In the center of them was the intruder. She was standing, her arms pinned behind her back with rope. A blindfold covered her eyes, the cloth pulled tight across her face. Snow clung to her dark hair, her clothes ragged from travel, and her breath came in short, measured bursts. She seemed in control of herself, even now when she was surrounded by a camp full of wolves.

Something about her put me on edge.

Not fear. Not danger.

Something achinglyfamiliar.

Possibly hearing someone new joining the group, or becoming aware of how the others stilled, she cocked her head. Even blindfolded and bound, she owned the space around her. Not in an obvious way, not in the way some women flaunted their beauty, knowing exactly the kind of attention they commanded, but in the way a storm settled over a mountain, quiet and irrevocably inevitable.

She was tall, her posture erect and effortless. Her body was built for movement, sleek and toned, with curves that weren’t soft and yielding, but strong, meant to endure. She had the kind of body that came from a life of running, fighting, and surviving.

And yet…

My eyes dragged lower, over the dip of her waist, the way her hips flared just slightly, the way her clothes clung to her frame in a way that shouldn’t have been distracting, but sure as hell was. She wasn’t delicate, but she was undeniably feminine.

Her lips—fuck, those lips—were slightly parted, like she was tasting the air the same way I was, her breath only slightly unsteady, like she was working to control herself, just as much as I suddenly was. The blindfold covered her eyes, but it didn’t matter.

She wasgorgeous.

Not in the way most men would call beautiful. Not polished, not dainty, not something fragile to be placed on a pedestal. This girl wasn’t a princess to be coddled, but a queen to be worshipped.

She was the kind of beautiful that cut deep. The kind that made you want to reach out and touch it even when you knew it would draw blood.

My body responded before my brain could tell it not to.

Heat stirred inside me, twisting low in my gut in a way I hadn’t felt in years, raw and unbidden. My fingers itched to touch her, to pull that blindfold away, to see her—reallyseeher.

But it wasn’t the time for that; not yet, at least.

I pushed the thought away and took a slow step forward, tilting my head as I studied her.

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