Alisha's Pov
The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, but beneath it lurked something far more sinister—the metallic tang of blood. My own blood.
I ran.
Branches tore at my skin, slicing through my exposed arms and legs as I stumbled through the dense undergrowth. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my bare feet, already bruised and raw, barely made a sound against the forest floor. I had learned long ago how to run without making noise. Silence had been my prison for as long as I could remember.
Now, it was my only weapon.
Behind me, footsteps pounded against the earth. My attackers were closing in. There were at least four of them, their snarls cutting through the cold night. I didn't know who they were. Rogues? Pursuers? Someone sent to kill me for sport? It didn't matter. I had no voice to cry for help, no one who would come even if I did.
I bit my lip to keep from whimpering as my ankle twisted painfully on a root. Keep running. Don't stop. Don't—
A sudden gust of wind knocked the breath from my lungs. A force slammed into my back, sending me sprawling. Pain burst across my side as I hit the ground hard, the impact rattling my bones.
I clawed at the dirt, desperate to push myself up, but a heavy boot came down on my wrist, pinning me. My attacker chuckled, a low, guttural sound that sent chills up my spine.
"Not so fast, little mute," he sneered. "Thought you could run from us?"
Terror coiled in my stomach like a viper. I struggled, but another hand yanked my head back by my hair, forcing me to look up. A face loomed above me—cruel, shadowed by the moonlight.
"They said we could have fun with her first,pity she can't even scream" another voice whispered, making bile rise in my throat.
I thrashed harder. No. Not like this.
I kicked out blindly, managing to land a hit against someone's knee. A furious snarl rang out, followed by the sharp crack of a slap across my face. My vision blurred, stars bursting behind my eyelids, but I refused to give in.
I didn't have a voice, but I had my will.
Then suddenly—a growl.
It was deep, primal, filled with raw power. It echoed through the trees, sending a ripple of fear through my attackers. The pressure on my wrist lifted. The men froze, stiffening.
A massive black wolf burst from the trees, its glowing eyes locked on my attacker.
"n..no way"
The wolf didn't hesitate. It launched itself at him, knocking him to the ground with terrifying force. Teeth sank into his neck, and his scream echoed through the forest.
The other two men where next. They were dead before they could blink, their limbs torn from their bodies and their screams echoing in the forest.
The wolf turned, panting heavily, and looked straight at me. Its eyes burned with something fierce—something that made my breath hitch.
Then the air shimmered.
In an instant, the wolf was gone.
Standing in its place was a man.
His scent hit me first—earthy, powerful, laced with something dangerously intoxicating.
Him.
The moment our eyes met, my heart slammed against my ribs. A shockwave surged through my veins, igniting something ancient and terrifying deep within me.
The Alpha of this pack I had stumbled into while running. Mikhail Draven
His silver eyes burned into mine like molten steel. Every inch of him radiated dominance, his muscles taut beneath his dark clothing, his stance lethal. His aura crashed over me in suffocating waves, a force that made my wolf cower.
And yet… beneath that power, I felt it. The pull. The connection that made my very soul tremble.
Mate.
No.
Not now. Not like this.
His gaze swept over me, and disgust flickered in his expression. "Who the hell are you?"
I tried to speak, but nothing came. My throat closed, my voice long gone, stolen by the past. I could only stand there, shaking, bleeding, pleading with my eyes.
He stepped closer, the ground beneath him trembling under his sheer presence.
Then, he stiffened. His jaw clenched. His nostrils flared as realization dawned.
A bond snapped into place—an undeniable, soul-binding connection. I felt it in my bones, in the marrow of my existence. My heart pounded, my body drawn to him against my will.
But then…
His expression twisted into something dark.
Rage.
Hatred.
Disgust.
"You," he spat, his voice dripping venom. "You are not mine."
I flinched, the rejection hitting me like a physical blow.
A mate is supposed to protect. To cherish.
But he looked at me like I was dirt beneath his feet.
His warriors emerged from the shadows, surrounding me, eyes filled with curiosity and suspicion. One of them, a tall woman with sharp features, smirked. "She reeks of weakness."
Mikhail's gaze never left mine, his silver eyes burning with something I couldn't understand.
Then, his voice dropped to a cruel whisper.
"Take her away."
Panic seized me. I shook my head, my hands moving frantically, trying to plead, to explain, to beg.
His stare hardened.
"I don't care who you are," he said coldly. "You are not wanted here."
A rough hand grabbed my arm, yanking me away from him. My body was too weak to fight. My vision spun, and before I could process the pain in my chest, darkness swallowed me whole.
The last thing I heard before unconsciousness claimed me was Mikhail's voice, sharp and merciless.
"Lock her up."