We were halfway up the ridge when the scent hit me.
Russell.
Sharp. Bitter. Familiar in the worst way. Twisted now, corrupted by alcohol and something else—something feral.
I stiffened.
Then I saw him.
His car blocked the narrow trail ahead, parked sideways like a challenge. Leaning against it, arms crossed, stood Russell. And at his side, clinging to him like a shadow, was Elsie—the she-wolf from that night. Her smirk was pure poison.
"Well, look who's crawling back," Russell sneered.
I said nothing.
He stepped forward. "You think you can just run into the mountains with an Alpha and pretend we didn't mean anything?"
My wolf growled low in my chest. The air thickened with tension.
Then Jaxton moved.
One step. That was all it took.
The shift in pressure was instant—his Alpha aura surged like a thunderclap, pushing down on everyone present. Russell startled, stumbling back, his bravado crumbling under Jaxton's gaze.
"She's no longer yours," Jaxton said, voice level but lethal.
Elsie hissed. "You don't get to decide that."
Jaxton's eyes flicked to her, and she flinched.
My heart pounded. Every instinct screamed to get away, but my wolf stood tall—drawn to Jaxton's power, his protection. My knees trembled, not from fear, but from the pull of something ancient.
Then it happened.
His scent—pine smoke and storm—hit me like a tidal wave.
And under it… a shift.
My wolf froze. Then howled.
I gasped, clutching my chest.
No. No, no, no.
The mate bond.
It was forming.
I staggered back, heart racing. My skin burned. My senses exploded. His scent became everything.
Jaxton turned to me, eyes wide.
"You feel it too," he said quietly.
I couldn't speak.
Because yes—I felt it. The thread of fate pulling us together. My wolf reaching for his. Every heartbeat syncing. Every breath anchoring me to him.
He stepped closer.
"Gianna…"
And then—his lips touched mine.
The kiss was fire. Lightning. A collision of souls.
And in that moment, the scent of the bond bloomed in the air around us—spice, ozone, and absolute certainty.
We pulled apart, breathless.
Mate.
But before I could speak, I heard it.
His voice.
Distant. From behind a tree.
"…No. I don't feel anything for her. She's not my mate."
My breath caught.
Every nerve in my body screamed. My wolf recoiled. My stomach dropped. What?
I turned—and saw him. Jaxton. Speaking to another packmate. His tone cold. Final.
"She's not mine."
The words shattered through me like claws.
Then I realized—I'd overheard. I wasn't supposed to.
But it didn't matter.
My legs moved before my mind could catch up. I ran. Away from the trail. Away from Jaxton. Away from the truth—or the lie—I couldn't make sense of.
Branches whipped against my skin. Tears blurred my vision. My wolf howled inside me, half-crazed with confusion. Every step felt like I was tearing myself in half.
He kissed me.
He claimed me.
And now he denied me?
I didn't see the ledge.
My foot caught. The world tilted sideways.
Then—air. Just air.
I fell.
Pain exploded. Darkness swallowed me whole.
And as I slipped away, one scent lingered in my mind—Jaxton's.
Not Russell's.
His.
Even in betrayal, my body remembered him.
Even in freefall, my wolf whispered his name.
