He hated witches with a burning passion, vowing to hunt them all down, until he tasted her blood on his lips.
"Alpha, we found the moon girl," they said. I expected a monster. Instead, I found Lyra. She was fragile, beautiful, and carried the scent of lavender and rain that drove my wolf insane. I should have killed her. The prophecy said she would end the packs. But when I touched her skin, sparks of electricity shattered my immunity. My wolf, Rudy, howled in my mind, screaming one word: Mate.
I denied it. I threw her in a dungeon. I tried to ignore the pull. But when the Shadow Pack abducted her, my control snapped. I drove into that forest like a man possessed. I tore through the rogues, ripping throats with my teeth. When I saw her in that cage, covered in filth, looking at me with those terrified silver eyes, I didn't see a witch. I saw mine.
I ripped the iron bars apart with my bare hands. "Come out," I commanded. She tried to heal my wounds in the car, her magic humming against my skin. "Never use magic on me," I growled, terrified by how much I liked it. I didn't take her back to the dungeon. I took her to my private quarters. Now, she sleeps in the room next to mine, and I stand at her door every night, fighting the urge to claim the enemy who was destined to be my soulmate.
Locked in the Alpha's bedroom, Lyra discovers two things: she has forbidden magic, and her captor wants to use her body to satiate his wolf. He claims he hates witches, but every night he comes closer to breaking his own rules.
