Kalen

The fire crackles in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the cabin. I tend to it, adding another log, and the flames leap higher, illuminating the room in a soft, flickering light. I can feel Lyla's eyes on me, and I know she's watching my every move.

She's been here for days now, longer than I anticipated. Her injuries were severe, worse than I initially thought. But she's strong. I can see it in the way she fights to heal, the way she stubbornly persists.

And I can't deny the pull I feel toward her. It's more than just a sense of duty, more than the attraction I felt when I first saw her. It's something deeper, something primal.

I glance at her, and our eyes meet. Her expression is softer, less guarded. There's a trust there, a trust I don't deserve. I look away, focusing on the fire, but I can still feel her gaze.

"What are you afraid of?" she asks, her tone gentle but probing.

I try to mask my fear, but I know she can see it. My heart races, and I take a step back, but the cabin walls feel like they're closing in on me. I glance at the door, almost wishing I could run outside, but I can't leave her alone.

“So many things. You being here, us being together—it’s not safe for you.”

“Because of your pack?” she says.

"They'll kill you," I say, meeting her gaze. "If they find you here, they won't hesitate."

She's watching me. "I can stay hidden. I can keep out of sight."

I shake my head, my heart heavy. "No, you don't get it. They're out there now. If they catch your scent, if they sense you're here, they'll know I brought you here, that I sheltered you. That I've been caring for you."

Her eyes narrow, and her hands clench into fists. "And what's wrong with that? You've been nothing but kind to me. You've saved my life. Do I deserve to die because of that?"

I close my eyes, my jaw tight. She's right. It isn't fair. But the world of shifters isn't fair. It's brutal and unforgiving.

"You're the enemy," I say, my voice strained. "Our packs are sworn enemies. And if my pack finds out I've been harboring you, I'll be banished. Or worse."

“Just because I’m a Blackwood.” Her tone carries a bitter note.

I dip my head. “You’re a Blackwood. But also because I’m the Alpha. I’m promised to mate with a Nightshade.”

She sits up. "You have a mate?”

“No.”

She sits back, her expression troubled. “Kalen.”

The whisper of her voice draws my gaze. Draws me toward her like she weaves a magic spell in her words.

“What if it was me?”

“What if what was you?” I stare at her, but the deep pools of emotion in her eyes make it hard to concentrate.

“What if we mated? Surely they wouldn’t harm me.”

I laugh, a short, dry sound. “You must be crazy. That’s exactly everything we shouldn’t do.”

“I know.” She lowers her eyes, picking at a thread in the blanket. “And yet, it’s all I want to do.”

“You want sex?” The word growls out of my throat, and my wolf stands at attention. Down, boy.

She lifts her gaze, eyes blazing. “I want to be your mate.”

***

Lyla

I hear everything Kalen’s saying, all the reasons we shouldn’t be together.

And I don’t care.

Something drives me toward him like I’ve never felt before. A primal, physical, emotional need.

He says he’s cursed, but it’s me. Blackwood. My family name. The name of my pack. And his is equally as damning. Nightshade. Our rivals. Our enemies.

We should hate each other.

But I would rather tear my skin off than leave him.

He stares at me after my statement. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? You’re in danger just from being here. If your pack so much as smells me on you, they’ll accuse you of betrayal. I’m the last person you should mate with.” He shakes his head. “You can’t stay here.”

Now I hear him. And these words send panic shooting through me. The muscles in left arm, the one that doesn’t respond the way I want it to, tighten up, sending red pricks of pain up my arm. “Don’t make me leave you,” I say. Beg. “I need to be with you.”

“I’m not letting you leave,” he says. “Not until you’re strong enough. But then, Lyla, I’m taking you back to your pack.”

His words are like a slap in the face. I hiss and rear back.

“I was banished! They don’t want me!”

“Someone wants you. Someone will be looking for you.” He kneels in front of me and takes my wrists. “You’re not promised to anyone?”

Ethan.

I look away as a memory spirals into my mind. Ethan finding me in the woods. His anger, his rage.

“Ethan came looking,” I whisper.

“Your Alpha. He came looking for you?”

I press a hand to my chest as the violent image of a wolf standing over me in the darkness fills my mind.

Kalen is talking, his voice an echo in the far reaches of my brain.

“Then your pack wants you back. They’ll track you here, Lyla, and we’ll have trouble.” He hesitates. “If things were different . . . If there were a place to go . . .”

I barely hear him. I shudder as I feel the heat of the wolf’s mouth at my throat.

“Don’t take me back.” I reach out and snatch his hand, squeeze it tight when he tries to pull away. “Ethan banished me.”

“He changed his mind, Lyla. You’re a she-wolf. A valuable commodity.”

But I did not come to him. So he attacked me.

I can’t help but suck in a breath as I recall the heavy feet landing on my back, snarling, tearing at me, the darkness of night hiding every feature except the scent. A soft cry escapes my lips, and my fingers trace the scars on my neck.

Kalen’s eyes don’t leave my face, and suddenly he’s kneeling in front of me, looking up at me.

“Did Ethan have something to do with the attack?”

I close my eyes, my hands trembling. "I can't remember," I whisper. "I can't remember what happened."

“Lyla.” He shakes my hands. “Lyla, talk to me. Did Ethan hurt you?”

I crumple up, pressing my head into my knees. Ethan. It's all I can think of. I can't get his name out of my mind.

Was it him?

“Lyla, if he did this—I will challenge him. And I will kill him.”

His words are brave, bold, and I lift my head, focusing on him.

“You won’t have to go to him if he finds out you have me,” I say, my voice strained. For all that Kalen’s tried to honest and transparent with me, I haven’t returned the favor in the least. “I am his mate.”