The wind carried your scent before he saw you.

Derek’s wolf surged inside him, instincts flaring. Every hair on his neck rose; his senses sharpened, honed from years as alpha. Lex circled in his mind like fire, the wolf’s anger and desperation spilling into his muscles, into his pulse. An Omega, on his land. Scared, he could smell blood on her.

He moved silently through the forest, boots crunching over fallen leaves, eyes scanning every shadow, every flicker of movement. His pack had found traces—a small campsite, discarded cloth, footprints that spoke of someone fleeing in fear. And he had known immediately it was you.

Your scent was faint but unmistakable. It clung to the pine and frost, to the faint smoke curling from a fire she had abandoned. Derek’s jaw clenched. Rage and protective instinct twisted together like twin serpents in his chest. Someone had hurt you. Someone had broken you.

And the idea that you had fled alone, that you had carried that fear all the way into the wilderness… he growled low, letting it rumble from his chest. Lex answered instantly, echoing the sound in his bones.

Where is she? the wolf demanded. Where is she?

Derek’s heart tightened as he thought of your small form, the way you must be trembling, terrified of being found again.

Then he saw you.

You were crouched behind a copse of trees, back to him, eyes wide and wary. Your hair was matted, your clothes torn in places, but your scent—your scent hit him like a punch to the chest. His Luna. His mate.

Lex roared inside him, claws digging, teeth bared, desperate. Derek slowed, forcing his wolf to calm for just a moment. He had to do this right. You had been hurt before. You needed safety—not a storm of fury.

“Hey,” he called softly, low and steady, letting the syllable carry trust as much as authority. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Your head snapped up, eyes like wild moons. Fear and recognition warred across your face. Derek could see it—the hesitation, the instinct to flee.

He stepped forward slowly, hands open, body relaxed but strong. Lex prowled under his skin, aching to pounce, to protect you from the world that had wronged you.

“I'm the Alpha of Redwoods.” Derek said, voice as gentle as can be. ““I’m not here to hurt you,” he says, voice deep but steady. “You’re safe.”

You don’t believe him. Omegas who believe alphas without proof don’t survive. He crouched slightly, giving space, letting you breathe. “You don’t have to come with me,” he says. “But if you do… no one will ever lay a hand on you." Derek held out a hand—not too fast, not threatening—just enough for you to see he meant safety.

“I won’t touch you without permission,” he continues. Then your shoulders sagged. Slowly. Trembling, you edged closer. Lex whimpered in relief inside him.

“You’re okay,” Derek whispered, voice hoarse. “Let's get you warm.”