Alexander's POV
The morning started with blood.
Alexander stood at the clearing where the pack gathered for morning drills, his gaze sharp as a blade as he surveyed his wolves. The scent of adrenaline and fear rippled through the air, tension crackling under the surface. His wolves were tough—strong, feral, brutal—but today, they looked fucking distracted. Restless. Even Jax, his most reliable enforcer, kept shooting wary glances at him.
Because they could sense it. The shift in his mood, the undercurrent of barely restrained aggression that was always simmering beneath the surface. But now, it was worse. He'd always been a fierce Alpha—dominant, ruthless—but lately, something inside him had been clawing to get out, making him reckless.
Making him dangerous.
"Alpha?" Rhett's voice broke through the growl building in his chest. "We've got a situation."
Alexander's eyes snapped to his Beta. Rhett was tense, his stance rigid as if expecting a fight. But the problem was, he didn't want to fight his Beta. He wanted to tear him apart, to vent the seething frustration that had been eating him alive ever since she stepped into his world. Since Elena.
"What is it?" Alexander demanded, his voice low, lethal.
"Another rogue, near the southern border. Lone wolf, but it's getting bolder. Attacked one of the scouts last night."
A snarl ripped through Alexander before he could stop it. "Then why the fuck is it still breathing?"
Rhett flinched but didn't back down. He never did. It was why Alexander had chosen him as his second-in-command. "The scout barely made it out alive. This rogue isn't like the others. It's… bigger. Stronger. And there's something off about it. Almost as if…"
"As if what?"
Rhett hesitated, his gaze flickering to the gathered wolves who were pretending not to listen but hanging onto every word. "As if it's been… altered."
Silence fell like a fucking guillotine. Altered. It wasn't just a rogue then. Someone—some other fucking pack—was messing with rogue wolves. Experimenting on them. Alexander's blood boiled, rage sparking hot and violent in his veins. Whoever was behind this was testing him, pushing him, trying to find a crack in his armor.
The crack was already there. And it was fucking her.
"Eliminate it," Alexander growled. "I want its head. And find out who the fuck sent it."
Rhett nodded, turning to relay the orders, but paused, his gaze lingering on Alexander. "And what about Elena?"
Just the sound of her name made his wolf snap its teeth, pacing restlessly in his mind. His control, already hanging by a thread, frayed further. Because that was the fucking problem, wasn't it? Elena. The human—or whatever the hell she was—that was throwing his entire world off balance.
"Leave her to me," Alexander snarled. He'd deal with her. Find out what made her different. Why she was in his head every damn second, why his wolf was howling for her like she was more than just some human girl.
Because she wasn't. She couldn't be.
She's dangerous," Rhett murmured quietly. "She's not what she seems, Alexander."
"Are you fucking suggesting I can't handle her?"
Rhett's eyes hardened, his posture shifting. "I'm saying we need to be careful. There's more at play here than just a human girl. I'm saying you need to focus. The pack needs you, Alpha. We can't afford—"
He didn't get to finish. Alexander's hand shot out, slamming Rhett back against a tree, his fingers digging into his Beta's throat. Rhett choked, his eyes wide but defiant, staring back at him with a challenge.
"You think I don't know what the pack needs?" Alexander hissed. "I'll deal with Elena. She's mine."
The declaration hung in the air, raw and primal. His wolves shifted uneasily, exchanging glances. Mine. The word meant something in their world, something dangerous. It was a claim, a vow.
A fucking death sentence.
But none of them dared say a word. Not when their Alpha was in this kind of mood. Not when they could see the barely contained violence in his eyes. Finally, Alexander released Rhett, shoving him back roughly.
"Take care of the rogue," Alexander ordered, his voice cold again, like a fucking ice storm. "I'll handle the rest."
And then he turned on his heel, leaving the clearing, his wolf growling in his chest. Because handling Elena was easier said than done. She was under his skin, in his blood, fucking haunting him. He needed to get control. To get his shit together.
But first, he needed to see her.
Elena's POV
Something was wrong.
Elena stood outside the quaint little bookstore that had just hired her, staring down at her trembling hands. Her skin felt too tight, like it was stretched over something that wanted to break free. The world around her looked sharper, colors more vivid, sounds louder. It was as if the air itself was humming, crackling with some kind of energy that she couldn't understand.
And the dreams. God, the dreams. They'd been getting worse. Dark forests. Wolves with golden eyes. Shadows that whispered her name in a language she didn't recognize.
She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. But it wasn't just the dreams. People were starting to look at her differently—watch her, as if they knew something she didn't. And then there were the animals.
She glanced down the street, where a stray dog sat, its eyes locked on her. It had been following her for days now, staying just out of reach, always watching. It wasn't just dogs either. Birds, cats, even fucking squirrels seemed to be drawn to her.
"What the hell is happening to me?" she whispered.
"Elena?"
She jumped, spinning around to see Sarah, her temporary boss temporary the only person who's have her a job even though it was for the day, watching her with a concerned frown. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Elena lied, forcing a smile. "Just… tired."
Sarah didn't look convinced, but she nodded. "Well, you're up. Time to charm some customers."
Elena nodded numbly, stepping into the shop, but the feeling of being watched didn't leave her. She could feel it, a weight pressing down on her chest. Something was coming. Something dark and dangerous.
And it was coming for her.