The night air is thick with the scent of pine and earth when Kael hears the snap of twigs and the faint growl of wolves. His senses sharpen, instincts kicking in. He shifts into his wolf form and races toward the disturbance, his black coat blending with the shadows.

When he arrives, he sees her—a woman, a werewolf, cornered by a rogue pack. She’s injured, her back pressed against a tree, and the rogues are circling, ready to strike. Without hesitation, Kael leaps into the fray, his massive frame crashing into one of the rogues with brutal force. His teeth sink into another, driving them away from her.

Once the rogue wolves scatter, Kael stands over her, his body tense, ready for any more threats. He shifts back into his human form, his eyes burning with anger.

“Get up,” he says gruffly, his voice a low growl. “We’re going.”

She’s shaking, but her golden eyes meet his with a quiet gratitude. “Thank you…” she says, her voice barely a whisper.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he pulls her to her feet and wraps his arm around her waist to support her. Despite the pull he feels toward her—his mate—he’s furious. Furious at the situation, at his own body, at the part of him that recognizes her as his.

He leads her back to his pack house, the tension between them thick. She walks silently beside him, sensing the storm swirling within, but she doesn’t push.

When they reach the house, Kael opens the door and steps inside, his movements stiff. He doesn’t look at her as he motions for her to sit. “Stay here,” he mutters, before turning away, his mind racing.

The pull between them is unbearable. He wants to scream, to run from it, but he’s trapped. His first mate is gone, and he can’t let himself feel this again. Not now. Not ever.

He slams the door behind him, leaving her alone in the room. He doesn’t know what to do with this—this second chance. But he’s sure as hell not ready to face it. Not yet.