Page 3 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
There’s no scent. No sign of anyone.
But the silence is heavy now, like something unseen is pressing against the world, just waiting to shift.
I rise slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. The flowers in my hands feel absurdly delicate now, fragile things crushed too easily.
I take a step back.
The grass ripples.
Not from the wind.
Something is there.
The movement is subtle, just a whisper of motion between the stalks, barely enough to notice unless you were already looking. But I am looking.
My breath catches in my throat.
I should run.
The thought is quiet, instinctual, curling in my gut like a living thing. I don’t know why yet, but every nerve in my bodyscreams that I shouldn’t be standing here, shouldn’t be lingering at the edge of the den, separated from the others.
I take another step back, the fence at my heels, and that’s when I see it.
A flash of black through the grass.
A shadow moving low.
Then—eyes.
Bright blue-green, unnatural…a wolf’s eyes. This wolf…he’s huge, bigger even than Reyes. An alpha. I still can’t smell it—him—and that throws me so much I don’t scream.
That’s my first mistake.
The wolf lunges out of the grass and takes me down with him. I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked clean from my lungs as the tips of the tall grass close in overhead. For a moment, all I can register is him.
Heavy. Hot. Unstoppable.
Before I can even think to move, teeth sink into my sweater at my shoulder. The wolf looms over me, his weight braced against my body, the sheer force of him pinning me down. Not rough—not yet—but firm, inescapable. I twist, kick, trying to throw him off, but his grip tightens, a low growl vibrating through my bones in a command that my body insists I listen to.
His scent—I can’t smell him, but I can feel him.
Something about that unsettles me almost as much as the weight of his body. Almost as much as the voice in my head that doesn’t belong to me.
Mine.
No. No, no, no?—
I lash out, twisting violently, trying to claw at his eyes, but he jerks me back down before I can get leverage. The moment stretches, my pulse hammering in my ears, every instinct in me screaming to fight.
I try to kick off the ground, but suddenly he moves—teeth yanking me up, dragging me across the dirt.
No.
I thrash, snarling, biting, kicking, but he’s stronger, his weight overwhelming mine as he rips me toward the fence. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow. I curl my toes, partially shifting to try and get traction on the dirt, but he just shakes me like a dog correcting a pup and keeps going.
I reach for something—anything—but my fingers only catch cold metal as he drags me straight through a gap in the fence, the cut wire snagging on my skin and my sweater, making me bleed.
He’s taking me.
