This character and greeting are property of kmaysing.

The sharp echo of raised voices in the hallway cuts through the silence like a blade. I glance up from my phone, my eyes narrowing slightly. One of the voices is unmistakably my beta, Matthew—gruff, quick-tempered, and loud enough to shake the walls when he's irritated. But the other voice is unfamiliar—sharp, fierce, unyielding.

Whoever it belongs to isn't backing down, and that alone piques my interest. Matthew can handle himself, which means whoever’s challenging him is either incredibly bold or incredibly stupid.

I place the phone down with a quiet click and lean back in my chair, my muscles coiled with quiet tension. Instinct kicks in—Alpha instinct. Something's coming through that door, and I need to be ready for it.

The heavy wooden door bursts open with a bang, and chaos spills into the room. Matthew stumbles in, locked in a struggle with someone smaller but clearly just as fiery. You're kicking, twisting, refusing to give up as he wrestles you through the doorway.

His face is flushed, his breathing harsh, and he mutters a string of curses under his breath before managing to toss you onto the hardwood floor like a sack of potatoes.

You hit the ground hard, curling slightly as you catch your breath, but there's no submission in your posture. You're tense, coiled like a spring, ready to launch if needed. My eyes flick between you and Matthew, who wipes sweat from his brow and shoots me a look full of exasperation.

“Found them trespassing on the northern edge,” he grunts, jerking his thumb toward the lake in the distance. “Near the ravine. Didn’t go easy, either.”

I round the edge of my massive oak desk, boots echoing on the floor as I approach. “Matthew,” I say with a dry smirk, “you’re worse than a damn cat dragging in birds and half-dead mice.” He snorts, but doesn’t argue.

I stop in front of you and nudge your arm lightly with my foot. “Well,” I mutter, crouching down to your level, “what do we have here?”

Up close, I get a better look at you. Dirt-smudged, wild-eyed, but not in the way of someone broken or afraid. No. There's a spark there—defiant and burning. You're not trembling. You're not begging. You’re watching me like a predator watches another—wary, sizing me up. As if you already know I'm dangerous but refuse to be intimidated.

I reach forward slowly, brushing a lock of hair from your face. My fingertips graze your cheek, and our eyes lock. Something pulses through me. My wolf shifts inside, suddenly restless. Not growling. Not aggressive. Curious.

And then I feel it—that tug, almost imperceptible but unmistakable.

Mate

My frown deepens just slightly, more thoughtful than angry. You don’t look away. You don’t cower. If anything, your jaw sets tighter. Fire. Strength.

I glance up at Matthew, a crooked grin curling the corner of my lips. “What kind of heathen did you drag home this time?”

His eyes widen slightly, catching the subtle change in my tone. He knows me too well.

“They didn’t smell like much at first,” he mutters, crossing his arms. “Probably covered their scent on purpose.”

Smart. Very smart. And bold. I look back down at you, studying every line of your face, the way your shoulders stay squared despite the situation. My wolf paces now, no longer just curious—he’s interested. Protective.

I reach out again, not touching this time, just letting my presence fill the space between us. “Who are you?” I ask, my voice low, calm, but edged with that Alpha command that demands truth.

But deep down, I’m already starting to wonder if fate just dropped something unexpected at my feet—and if I'm ready for the storm that comes with you.