"Hi, Emma."
The words hit her like a blow. She froze, her heart hammering. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Alpha Brandon sat before her.
He was tall and broad, his chest bare and marked with scars from battles. Every line on his body told a story of war. He was powerful and dangerous. Beautiful and dreadful all at once.
Emma lowered her gaze. She could not believe her pack sent her straight into the claws of her enemy.
If this was fate, then fate had a cruel sense of humor.
Emma's chest tightened. People like Brandon weren't supposed to exist in Howling Union or even in packs. They were legends of fear, warlords whispered about in the Northern Mountains.
Alpha Brandon. The reason Emma's life had been turned upside down. The reason she lost her chance at a safe pack, the reason she had been forced to survive as an outcast.
Emma's eyes narrowed as she recalled when it all went wrong.
Four months ago during a gathering of the region's Alphas. Every pack leader came together to discuss borders, alliances, and challenges. Emma and Brooklyn sat quietly at the edge of the hall, invisible and ignored. She wanted nothing more than to fade into the shadows.
Brandon entered. The hall fell silent. Every Alpha and their enforcers froze mid-step. The ground seemed to tighten under his bare feet. His chest glistened in the torchlight, marked with scars and burns that told of countless battles. He carried power like a living weapon. Wolves shifted, some dared to stare, most did not.
His rare golden eyes locked on Emma for a fraction of a second. She felt every scar, every mark, every ounce of his dominance pierce her. He moved toward the center of the hall but did not stop.
Then he sent one of his worriors toward her, asking her to come closer. Emma ignored him, staring straight ahead.
Brandon approached himself. He lowered onto the bench beside her.
"Hi, Emma," he said. His voice was thick enough to choke a wolf. Emma ignored him again.
When he touched her chin and forced her to look into his dreaded eyes, Emma's hands trembled. Her wolf bristled. She jerked back instinctively, her palm connecting with his chest instead of his face.
The sudden movement drew sharp glances from the guards. Tension snapped in the air like a coiled spring. Brandon raised a hand, and the room stilled.
"Let her be," he said calmly, his voice cutting through the quiet.
Emma does not kneel, and he did not demand it. He headed back to his chair.
The guards hesitated, unsure. One stepped forward, gently guiding her toward the exit instead of forcefully grabbing her. The doors swung open, and she stumbled across the hall, landing hard but unharmed outside on the soft grass of the estate's courtyard.
She took a shaky breath, her wolf yipping softly in protest, her heart still pounding.
And now, Brandon sat in front of her again.
Emma's stomach twisted. The man who controlled fear itself, whose name sent shivers through entire territories, was here.
"Alpha Brandon… I… I'm sorry. Please forgive me," Emma whispered, her head lowered in submission.
Alpha Brandon said nothing. He continued staring at her.
His rare golden eyes stayed on her, cold and unreadable, like ancient runes carved into stone. The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate. Emma shifted slightly, her wolf stirring in unease. She waited, breath tight in her chest.
Minutes passed. Then he drew a slow breath. Even his breathing commanded attention.
Emma's ears flicked in impatience before she could stop herself.
"Apology rejected," Alpha Brandon said at last.
Emma shut her eyes, fighting the sting behind his words.
"Please…"
"I want something from you. The Northern region wants something from you. Something only you can give," he continued, turning his chair toward the large crystal screen carved into the stone wall.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice flat.
Alpha Brandon ignored the question and fixed his rare golden eyes on the screen before him.
On the screen, wolves moved through a dense forest. Armed scouts, warriors in human form, circling prey.
When Brandon turned and looked at Emma again, her heart skipped.
"I'll speak to you later," Alpha Brandon said, lifting one hand in dismissal.
Emma turned to leave.
"Bernard," Brandon called.
A towering huge man stepped forward. "This way, she-wolf."
He led Emma down a private lift carved deep into the mountain. When the doors opened, Emma froze.
Before her stood a massive white stone structure, built into the cliffside. It was not a mansion—it was a stronghold. Alpha symbols marked every pillar. The place breathed power, wealth, and dominance. Short silver-leaf trees and roses lined the grounds, creating a quiet, guarded beauty.
Bernard walked ahead. Emma followed.
They passed through several guarded doors until they reached the executive lounge.
"Sit," Bernard said.
She did.
He turned to leave.
"Please, wait," Emma said softly.
He stopped.
"Why am I here?" she asked.
"The Alpha will come when he is ready. I only follow orders."
"Thank you."
He nodded and left.
Emma sat alone, her hands clenched in her lap.
A servant soon appeared. "Your food is ready."
Emma shook her head.
"Our Alpha considers those who refuse his food as enemies."
Emma rose at once.
She followed the servant into a small dining room. Though simple in size, it was stunning—polished stone, warm lights, and carved wolf sigils along the walls.
She ate quietly. The food was rich and grounding, but her mind stayed restless.
Brooklyn came to mind, sharp and vivid. She had no phone. No way to reach her. Even mindlink couldn't bridge the distance.
When she returned to the lounge, she paced.
Her heart jumped every time she looked at the entrance.
He was young. Strong. Feared across the region. A warlord Alpha who ruled with blood and command. He did not need a mate from a Howling union.
Her chest tightened.
Did my family offer me to him?
Did Alpha Daniel and Luna Theresa send me here to die?
Emma hugged herself, her wolf whimpering softly.
She had only wanted a pack where she would not be treated like an outcast.
Instead, she had been delivered straight into the hands of the most feared Alpha in the region who needed something from her.
Emma wondered what he needed from her, what the Northern Region wanted from outcast…
But nothing came to mind.
Until a low, distant growl echoed through the stone corridors outside the lounge.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't a guard.
And for some reason, her wolf stirred in recognition.