Chapter 3: The Alphas' Claim

The morning was grey and chill, the pack compound silent as a graveyard. I slid out of the shed, burlap sack over my shoulder, the bulk of coins and clothing a silent excitement against my back. My boots crunched frosty grass underfoot as I moved quickly, keeping close to the walls of the huts. The hunt had worn them out—snoring sounded from windows, no eyes to take me. I paced the dirt road, bus stop half a mile along, and let myself breathe. Almost there. A hand clamped on my arm, spinning me around. I swung, fist burying in Milo's shoulder. "Damn it, Evan, it's me!" he muttered, rubbing where I'd punched him. His eyes darted, anxious but gleaming.

What are you doing?" I snarled, lowering my fist. Too close, throbbing in my chest.

He smiled without smiling. "You're really going to do it, then? Leave?"

"Yes." I knotted the sack, scanning down the street. "Come with me.".

Milo slowed, scuffing the earth. "Not my time, man. Pack's still got claws in me." He nailed me with a steady stare. "Watch your back out there. You're not as invisible as you think you are."

I swallowed, my throat constricted. "Thanks. For everything."

"Go on," he said, thumping me on the shoulder. "Don't look back." He melted into the morning mist, and I ran—scorching muscles, hammering heart—until the bus swayed into view. I climbed aboard, coins clinking as I paid, and fell onto a seat by the window. The pack fell away behind me, huts shrinking to dots. "Free," I breathed, allowing the word to sink into my head. It sounded true.

Three weeks in, I was elbow-deep in greasy water, the kitchen of the motel a foggy blur of sound and sweat. It paid $craps, but it had gotten me off the streets—new city, new life. My room was a closet with a miserable bed, but it was mine. No Kade, no Torin, no pack. I grinned at myself as I rinsed a plate. I'd done it.

The crash was late, after midnight. I woke with a jolt, sheets tangled around me, as my door burst off its hinges. A man loomed in the doorway—tall, leather-jacketed, gold eyes burning like hot coals. "Got you, mate," he snarled, voice like gravel. I scrambled backward, slammed into the wall, knife halfway out of my bag before he crossed the room in two strides and pinned my wrist.

What the hell? I yelled, fighting his grip. He was huge—muscle and heat, cigar stub between his teeth.

A second voice cut in, freezing in its control. "You're ours. Didn't your wolf warn you?" I scowled past the first man—a second one stood in the doorway, lean, dark hair combed back, eyes like metal. He stepped into the room, hands in pockets, relaxed.

"I don't have a wolf, assholes—get off me!" I fought against the giant, but he didn't budge, just laughed, low and ugly.

"Oh, it's in there. Smell it now." He jerked my arm up, his nose against my wrist, his grin spreading. "Omega. Ripe for the taking."

The silent one spoke again, stepping into the light of the lanterns. "Bound to us. Running's over."

"I'm not your anything!" I kicked the shin of the large one, and he growled, pushing me harder into the wall. There were sharp pains in my shoulders, but I glared back at him, panting.

"Name's Zane," he said, letting me go but not stepping back, his heat enveloping. "That's Leo." He jerked his head toward the other. "You're coming with us, Evan."

"Why do you know my name?" I spat, moving to the window. Three weeks—how'd they find me?

Leo reclined against his head, voice as slick as ice. "We knew when you were born. Gamma's son, no scent runt. Our bond stirred up when you ran."

"Bullshit," I snarled, but my gut tightened. Bond? I didn't feel anything—did I?

Zane grabbed my bag, throwing it to Leo, who caught it without breaking stride. "Struggle all you like—it's over," Leo said, heading for the door. Zane yanked me to my feet by the collar, pulling me out into the night. I struggled, heels scuffling on pavement, but his grip was a vice. "You can't just kidnap me!"

"We can," Zane growled, shoving me into the back of a black SUV. "You'll see." Leo climbed into the driver's seat, engine roaring to life, and we took off, the motel dwindling in the distance. I kicked the seat in front of me, fury boiling. "Let me out!"

"Sit still," Leo said to me, his eyes on the road. "You'll hurt yourself."

"Screw you!" I grabbed for the door handle—locked. Zane's hand came down on my shoulder, pinning me back.

"Keep that up, and I'll restrain you," he snarled, low voice. "You're ours now—alpha's claim."

I doubled up, panting, my head spinning. Alphas. Bond. Omega. Words I'd known since I was a baby, but never had anything to do with me. My brother was a ghost—unobtrusive, not there. They were crazy, or I was. The SUV drove down dark streets, city lights yielding to trees. Hours passed, but I was numb there where Zane had touched. I glared at the back of Leo's head, then Zane's grin. "Why me?" I growled.

“You’ll figure it out,” Zane said, lighting a fresh cigar. Smoke curled around us, sharp and bitter.

The compound lay before us—steel gates, wolves pacing the darkness. Same hellhole I'd left behind, just bigger, worse. Zane dragged me loose, slamming me against the gate. "Feel that?" he growled, voice dropping. My body ached—a pull, raw and primitive, tearing up from someplace I wasn't even conscious of. Leo stepped forward, his control fraying just enough to show something hungry. "It's waking up—your wolf. Our bond."

I was immobilized, the heat running through me, my skin buzzing. "No," I whispered, but it was there—a flash, a thunder I'd never heard. My head spun, their eyes nailing me like an animal.

A howl tore through the darkness, cutting and evil, echoing out of the forest. Zane sat up, cigar dropped. "Claws. They're here." Leo's hand went to a knife at his belt, calm trimmed to predator's edge. Movement stirred between trees—too much, too quick. I turned, heart racing, as Zane growled, "Stay close" and Leo drew the knife, steel glinting.