** Iris POV **
The forest didn't feel like the same place anymore. Every sound was louder, every shadow sharper, every breath colder. I clutched the book tighter as I moved through the trees, trying to ignore the sting of branches scraping against my arms. The glow from the book was fading now, pulsing weakly like a heartbeat struggling to steady itself.
My name still echoed faintly in my ears. I didn't know if it was my imagination or if the magic inside the book was still whispering to me, hiding beneath my skin.
I stopped near a small clearing, chest rising and falling too fast. I needed to think. I needed to understand what I'd taken—what I had just unleashed. But the moment I tried to open the book again, the forest shifted. Not loudly. Not violently. Just… wrong.
A breeze drifted through the clearing, carrying a scent that didn't belong to the night—warm, wild, clean, like pine needles crushed under a storm. It wrapped around me quickly, tightening something in my chest.
I wasn't alone.
A soft crunch of leaves.
A deep inhale.
Slow footsteps that knew exactly where I stood.
My fingers tightened around the book. I turned, breath held, trying to see through the dark. The trees blurred into shapes, and then—there.
A figure stepped out.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Moonlight brushing over the edges of a strong jaw and hair that looked too wild to be human. His eyes caught the light first—silver, glowing faintly, like molten metal cooled under moonlight.
He didn't rush. He didn't snarl. He simply watched me, each step controlled, graceful, too smooth for any ordinary man.
The scent in the air grew stronger the closer he came. It wrapped around me in a warm wave that made my knees weaken. I should have run. I should have screamed.
I didn't.
I couldn't.
Something about him held me in place. Like the book, he felt… familiar. Like I had called him without meaning to.
His gaze dropped to the book I held, and his eyes sharpened instantly. His chest rose on a slow inhale, and a low growl vibrated beneath his breath—not a threat, but a reaction he couldn't hide.
"You're trembling," he murmured. His voice was deep, steady, warm like his scent. "The magic hit you hard."
I stepped back, heart in my throat. "Who are you?"
He didn't answer at first. He lifted his head slightly, tasting the air, and a strange softness flashed through his expression—almost like relief.
"You smell like the Grimoire's magic," he said quietly, almost reverently. "I felt it from miles away."
He took another slow step forward. I pressed my back against a tree, gripping the book as if it were a shield.
He looked at my hands… and then at my face. Something flickered in his gaze—curiosity, awe, hunger.
He stopped only a few feet away, close enough that the air between us hummed.
Close enough that I felt the heat radiating from him.
"You touched it," he said softly, his voice dropping lower. "The forbidden book. The one no living witch should ever open."
I swallowed hard. "I—I didn't know—"
He leaned slightly closer, eyes locked on mine.
"No," he murmured. "You don't know anything."
His gaze darkened, silver eyes burning like moonfire.
"You don't know what you've done."
He took one slow step toward me, and the entire clearing reacted. Leaves shivered. The earth thrummed. The wind curled around him like it recognized him—like it bowed to him. I swallowed hard, fingers gripping the edges of the book so tightly her knuckles whitened.
"Alpha…" she whispered, not sure if she meant it as a plea or a warning.
He tilted his head, inhaling her again, deeper this time. Something flickered across his eyes—gold, then silver, then a wild color she didn't recognize. Hunger. Curiosity. Instinct.
And something else.
Claiming.
The air pressed against her like a hand. "You're trembling," he said softly. "Is it fear… or the magic?"
She didn't answer. She couldn't. The book pulsed again, as if urging her to run, to hide, to do anything except stand here in the open with a creature who could crush her throat in less than a second.
But he didn't move to attack. Instead, his gaze softened.
"You shouldn't have taken that," he murmured. "That book was sealed for a reason."
A weak laugh slipped out of her. "Well, it opened for me."
"That's the problem." His voice dropped, deep and dangerous. "It chose you."
She froze.
Chose?
The book warmed in her hands, almost agreeing.
Before she could ask what he meant, branches snapped violently behind him. The Alpha immediately shoved her back with one arm, placing himself between her and the sound. His posture changed—protective, tense, lethal.
His voice dropped to a rumble that vibrated through her ribs.
"Stay behind me."
And for the first time since she picked up the cursed, glowing book…
She wasn't sure if she was in more danger from the thing stalking them—
Or from the Alpha who refused to let anything touch her.
Something huge moved in the shadows. The Alpha's muscles locked, every line of his body sharpening as he stepped forward, shielding her completely. She clutched the book tighter, her breath trapped in her chest as glowing eyes flashed between the trees.
The Alpha growled—a deep, territorial warning that vibrated through the ground.
Whatever was approaching hesitated… then retreated with a low snarl, melting back into the forest.
Only when the last echo faded did he turn to her again.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said, voice rough. "Not tonight."
"I didn't plan this," she muttered.
He glanced at the book in her arms, jaw tight. "No one ever does."
He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. The forest felt too quiet now—like every creature was holding its breath as he studied her face, her pulse, the way her fingers trembled over the glowing cover.
"You don't understand what you're holding," he said quietly. "That book is older than my entire bloodline. It contains magic no witch has controlled in centuries."
"It called me," she whispered.
His eyes darkened. "Yes. And that's why every Alpha in the region felt its awakening."
She blinked. "Every Alpha?"
He nodded once, expression grim. "Three packs rule these lands. Three Alphas strong enough to sense ancient magic the second it stirs."
Her heart dropped. "So they know I have it?"
"They know someone has it," he corrected. "But I was the closest. The others…" He exhaled slowly. "They're coming."
The book pulsed again, brighter, faster—responding to the growing tension in the air.
Her voice cracked. "What do they want?"
His gaze locked with hers, intense and unreadable.
"You," he said. "They'll want you."
The forest suddenly felt smaller, like the trees were leaning in to listen. Her heartbeat crashed in her ears as his words sank in. Want her? Not the book? Not the magic?
Her.
The Alpha stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the heat rolling off his body. His scent—pine, cold night air, and something raw—wrapped around her until she almost forgot to breathe.
"They'll track your magic," he said. "They'll track your scent. And when they find you…" His eyes swept over her face, lingering like he was seeing something she didn't realize she carried. "They won't be able to walk away."
She shook her head. "But why me? I'm no one. I'm not a witch, I'm not a wolf—"
"You touched a book no mortal should be able to touch," he cut in. "It opened for you. That makes you far from ordinary."
The book glowed brighter, like it agreed again.
A cold breeze swept through the clearing, carrying with it three overlapping scents—wild, sharp, dominant. Different from his. Different from each other.
The Alpha's jaw locked. "They're closer than I thought."
Fear prickled up her spine. "What do we do?"
He reached out and grabbed her hand—not gently, but not painfully either, like he needed to feel she was really there. His skin burned against hers, and the book reacted instantly, a soft hum vibrating through them both.
"We run," he said. "Until I can figure out why the magic chose you… and why I can't seem to stay away from you."
Before she could speak, he pulled her into the trees, the forest blurring around them as the distant howls of two other Alphas rose, echoing through the night, closing in fast.
The hunt for her had already begun.