Blackridge Forest breathed like a living thing.
The deeper Aria Monroe walked, the more it felt as though the woods were watching her—listening, waiting. The air was thick with pine and damp earth, heavy enough to press against her lungs. Even the usual night sounds—crickets, rustling leaves—had gone eerily silent.
That should have been her sign to turn back.
But fear didn't heal dying grandmothers.
Aria tightened her grip on the flashlight and pushed forward, boots crunching softly over fallen leaves. Her heart hammered so loudly she was certain it echoed between the ancient trees. Moonlight filtered through the canopy above, pale and sharp, painting the forest in silver and shadow.
Moonroot. Just one bundle.
That was all she needed.
She crouched near a cluster of rocks where the plant was rumored to grow, brushing aside leaves with shaking fingers. The root glimmered faintly—silvery veins pulsing like a heartbeat.
Relief surged through her.
And then the forest exhaled.
The sound came from behind her.
A growl.
Low. Deep. Controlled.
Not the frantic snarl of a wild animal—but something measured. Deliberate.
Every muscle in Aria's body locked.
Slowly, painfully slowly, she turned.
Two golden eyes burned in the darkness.
Then another pair.
Then another.
Massive wolves stepped into the moonlight, their forms impossibly large, fur dark as midnight, muscles rippling beneath their skin. They moved without sound, surrounding her in a perfect circle.
Predators.
Hunters.
Aria's breath fractured. "P-please," she whispered, voice barely there. "I don't want trouble."
The wolves didn't advance.
They waited.
Then the pressure in the air changed.
It bowed.
The wolves parted as though compelled by an unseen force.
And he emerged.
At first, Aria thought he was another trick of fear—a nightmare given shape.
He stood taller than any man she had ever seen, broad-shouldered, commanding, wrapped in dark leather and shadow. Long black hair fell loose around a face carved with sharp angles and old scars. His eyes glowed molten gold, luminous and merciless.
This was no man.
This was a king.
Her knees buckled, and she caught herself just before collapsing.
The stranger's gaze locked onto her, and the world seemed to narrow to that single point of connection. His expression hardened—not with cruelty, but with restraint so tight it bordered on pain.
"Human," he said.
His voice was deep, resonant, carrying power that sank into her bones.
"You stand on sacred land."
Aria swallowed, throat burning. "I—I didn't know. I swear. I just need a plant. My grandmother is sick. I'll leave. I promise."
For the first time, something flickered across his face.
Not sympathy.
Shock.
Kael Nightborne felt it like a blade through his chest.
The bond ignited.
His wolf slammed against his control, roaring, demanding, claiming. The air surged, vibrating with ancient magic. Every instinct screamed the same truth he had waited centuries to hear.
Mate.
Impossible.
She was human.
Breakable.
Forbidden by every law of wolfkind.
Yet the moon burned brighter, merciless in its certainty.
Kael took a step forward without meaning to.
Aria gasped as the air around her thickened, charged with something primal and terrifyingly intimate. Her skin prickled. Her heart pounded—not just with fear, but with something else. Something warm. Pulling.
"W-what are you?" she breathed.
Kael stopped himself inches away from her.
If he touched her, he would lose her forever.
And maybe himself.
"You should not be here," he said, voice rougher now. "This forest kills humans."
"Then why am I still alive?" she asked, defiance slipping through fear.
The wolves around them whined softly, lowering their heads. Submission.
Aria noticed—and her fear deepened.
He was their alpha.
No.
More than that.
King.
Kael's jaw clenched as the scent of her wrapped around him—warm, alive, dangerously intoxicating. His control frayed. The bond tugged relentlessly, urging him to mark her, protect her, crown her.
"Tell me your name," he demanded.
She hesitated, then lifted her chin. "Aria."
The moon flared.
The bond locked.
Kael staggered back a half step, breath leaving him in a sharp exhale. His wolf howled inside his mind, victorious.
Aria felt it too—a sudden heat in her chest, a strange ache that felt like recognition. Tears stung her eyes without warning.
"What did you do to me?" she whispered.
Kael stared at her like a man staring into his own execution.
"Nothing," he said harshly. "And everything."
He turned away abruptly, fists clenched, struggling against the ancient law roaring through his blood.
If he claimed her, she would be hunted.
If he rejected her, his kingdom would fracture.
The wolves waited, silent witnesses.
"Leave," Kael growled. "Now."
Aria blinked. "What?"
"Run," he snapped, turning back to her, eyes blazing. "Before I change my mind."
"But—"
A thunderous howl ripped through the forest.
Not his.
Enemy.
Kael's head snapped up, every muscle coiling. His gaze returned to Aria, sharp with urgency.
"They've sensed you," he said. "If you stay, you die."
Fear surged—but beneath it, something stubborn rooted her feet to the ground.
"You're lying," she said softly. "You wouldn't let them hurt me."
The truth hit him like a curse.
She trusted him.
Kael stepped close one last time, lowering his voice. "You don't understand what you are to me."
"Then make me understand," Aria whispered.
For one breathless moment, the world hung suspended.
Then Kael straightened, sealing his heart behind iron walls.
"Go," he ordered.
Aria hesitated—then ran.
Kael watched her disappear into the forest, the bond screaming in protest, the moon burning cold above him.
The Alpha King had found his mate.
And he had just let her go.
The forest howled with the promise of war.