As Natasha Kingstone ran through the forbidden woods, the moonlight streamed through the ancient forest like liquid silver, each shot sparkling on her golden hair. Around her, the forest murmured—leaves moving, boughs snapping, and nighttime animals going quiet as she got closer. Her wolf was just below the surface, wanting to come out as she moved with deadly ease. She was now well outside the boundaries of the Silvermane pack. There was danger in every breath here, deep in Evergreen country.
He will not be present. He cannot be. However, the full moon pulled and attracted her more. With increased clarity, her green eyes searched the darkness, each movement sparking a deep sense in her. Her heart beat against her ribs—not only because she had trespassed, but also because of something more primal, something that appealed to her core.
The bond. Before she even saw him, she felt it. An electric current ran through her veins, a draw that was persistent and strong, like a storm building in her blood. A force she couldn't ignore caused the air to thicken.
Then he appeared. A shadow in a shadow. Corbin, Jude. The moonlight licked over his honed form, bringing out the power and muscle shapes as he stood bare-chested in the clearing. His black hair was wild and unkempt, mirroring the craziness that was growing inside her, and his skin shone like obsidian stone. His icy blue eyes cut through the haze of her thoughts and latched onto hers with bone-chilling ferocity.
Time stopped. The forest held its breath as the bond surged—hot, electric, and unquestionable—and the world around them faded. Natasha's breath stopped as her inner wolf let out a desperate cry that echoed deep within her. Her legs moved against her will, pulled toward him as though the ground beneath them were playing a hand in their fate.
Jude hissed, his voice low and sharpened like a sword drawn over stone, "You're far from home, little she-wolf," sending chills down her spine.
With her heart beating and every beat sounding like a war drum in her ears, Natasha came to a stop just below the treeline. Her voice, full of fear and desire, was little more than a breath. "I had to run."
"You picked the wrong forest." In addition to being a warning, his words stayed in the air, loaded with something more evil and tempting.
The tension between them stretched until it broke like a tight bowstring as her lips parted. "Perhaps I made the perfect choice." Her challenge sparked the air around them like a spark on dry tinder.
In an instant, he was in front of her, tall and near enough for her to feel the warmth coming off his skin. It was both tempting and scary at the same time. Her wolf shook as his fingers nearly touched her jaw, a wild urge snatching to the surface. Her breath caught. This thing would rip her to pieces with just one mistake. However, he didn't. His eyes were a storm of feelings as he viewed her.
He said, "You don't smell like fear," the words surrounding her like a cozy cloud. "You have a hot scent."
She blinked in surprise at how calm her voice sounded, a weird feeling of power building within her. "You sense it too."
He didn't deny it. He was not forced to. Born of old bloodlines and full moons, the tie blazed through them, raw and primitive, a link that went beyond simple desire. The need and desire that threatened to devour Natasha intensified every nerve ending in her body.
With a low growl, he growled, "I don't want this," yet his body's heat and his heavy stare conveyed a different message. A war fought behind his cold blue eyes as his chest rose with control and his palm hovered over her hip, tantalizingly close.
She muttered, "You lie even to yourself." The words came out as a challenge, exposing a truth that they both knew was open between them.
With the world closing in on them and the air full with unsaid potential, their mouths were inches apart. In that second, they pushed closer and her skin buzzed where his breath touched her neck—
Then, with a sudden withdrawal that felt like a kick to her gut, he took a step back.
Jude yelled, "No," his voice as crisp as an order, slicing the electric tension like a knife. "This doesn't occur. You are not mine.
The sound of twigs snapping filled the area as more people came and reality fell back down on them. The weight of their stares felt like chains around her heart as evergreen soldiers entered the moonlight and all eyes turned to them.
Jude's face changed, and Natasha straightened. Chilly. Managed. He screamed, "Get out," in a hard, powerful voice that shielded her from her weakness.
She was paralyzed by shock, her senses overpowered by doubt. He wasn't speaking to her. It was for them—a furious and public rejection, a statement that felt like a smack. "You—"
"Leave," I said.
There was a wave of silence, followed by low laughter. Contempt. As shame swept over her, the other wolves' laughter filled her breath, causing her cheeks to flare up. Her pride, however, held. Every step she took was an act of rebellion, a forced retreat from the pull that had burned her whole soul, and she turned on her heel.
Jude's wolf growled inside him as his fists clenched, wanting desperately to strike, pull her back, and claim her as his own. He fought against it, his body tight and jaw hard, torn between instinct and the icy reality he had chosen.
A sound, part growl, half sadness cry, came from his wolf as Natasha vanished into the forest. The weight of an unsaid promise hung heavy in the air as he crushed it in his throat and turned to leave.
Around her, the forest changed. The trees were hazy. Shadows gulped. However, Natasha continued to run until she arrived at the Silvermane border, her heart beating with a combination of despair and joy. Her breath was raspy as she fell by the river's brink, each breath serving as a reminder of the tie she couldn't let go of.
Her fingers pricked—where the heat had hung just short of contact, where he had nearly touched her. Like an invisible mark forever etched into her skin, the spot where his heat had hovered still burned.
She wondered how something that never happened could leave such a scar on her being as she looked down at her hands. In contrast to the seething chaos inside of her, a battle between desire and the pain of rejection, water lapped softly at the stones.
She had sensed the link. He had, too. Nevertheless, he turned her down. That truth weighed heavily and firmly in her chest. Inside her head, entangled in the chaos of what might have been, her wolf paced restlessly and moaned in pain. They had experienced a taste that was too real and overwhelming to overlook.
Every muscle in Natasha's body ached from the pain of what ought to have been. Her heart ached with rage and want, and her skin pricked with heat. Her spirit shouted for it, a primal cry that echoed in the night's hush, and her body knew what it wanted.
However, Jude Corbin had made his choice, which was like a wound in her life. She looked up at the stars, each one a faraway memory of the link she so badly wanted, and shivered in the moonlight.
"You can run, Alpha," she said softly to the wind, "but we've already tasted each other's souls." What about the flavor? An echo of something lost, a memory of a missed fate that would stay in the back of their hearts, would torture them both.