Chapter 2

CAUGHT BY THE ALPHA

The moment the guards’ footsteps thundered past the inn, I let out a shaky breath. My chest rose and fell too fast, like a rabbit cornered in the brush. Relief was fragile, though—thin and fleeting.

Because then a voice cut through the shadows.

“Who are you?”

I froze.

Slowly, I turned toward the sound.

And my world tilted.

The man standing in the dim light wasn’t one of the guards. He wasn’t even a villager. He was something far more dangerous. His presence filled the room the way a storm filled the sky—inescapable, heavy, impossible to ignore.

He stood tall, broad-shouldered, his stance relaxed but coiled with barely contained power. Midnight-dark hair fell over his brow, shadowing a face carved with sharp, unyielding lines. But it wasn’t his face that rooted me to the floor.

It was his eyes.

Silver. Cold. Piercing. They caught the weak lantern glow and turned it into fire, stripping me bare where I stood. They weren’t the eyes of a stranger.

They were the eyes of an Alpha.

My wolf stirred violently inside me. One heartbeat of silence—and then a single word whispered through my very bones.

Mate.

I staggered back a step, my heel knocking against the doorframe. My breath caught in my throat. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

Not here. Not now. Not him.

The air itself appeared to bend around him as he took a step forward. “You don’t belong here.”

His voice was smooth, rich, but there was steel beneath it, the kind of steel that could cut without warning.

My throat worked, but no words came. What was I supposed to say? Hi, I’m Ella, the last survivor of a destroyed pack, hiding from hunters, and fate decided to tie me to the most dangerous Alpha in this region?

No. That wasn’t an introduction anyone survived.

Instead, I swallowed hard. “Just passing through.”

His lips twitched, though it wasn’t amusement—it was disbelief. “Rogues don’t pass through my territory. They sneak. They steal. They kill.”

“I’m not—” I began, but he silenced me with a sharp flick of his hand.

“Lies,” he snapped. Like a whip, the sound shattered the room.

He moved closer, and suddenly I could feel it—the raw, suffocating power radiating from him. His dominance pressed on me like an invisible weight, making my knees weaken, making my lungs fight for air. It wasn’t just strength. It was authority. The kind no one dared defy.

My wolf cowered beneath it… But at the same time, she pressed forward, eager, desperate. Mate. Ours. Ours.

I bit my lip until I tasted blood, willing myself not to crumble. I had survived worse. I had to survive this.

But the goddess had played a cruel trick. She had tied me to him.

The Alpha of Blackridge. Damon Blackridge. Even in rogue camps, the icy, merciless Alpha murmured.

And now he stood inches from me.

“I’m not lying,” I managed, though my voice cracked. “I don’t want trouble. Let me go, and you’ll never see me again.”

The sound rolled low in his chest as he laughed.. It wasn’t warm—it was the kind of laugh wolves made before they pounced. “Is that a threat?”

“No,” I shot back, forcing my chin up, though fear clawed at me. “It’s a promise.”

Something flickered in his eyes at that. Not anger. Not disdain. Something else—something dangerous.

Interest.

He closed the distance between us until the scent of him surrounded me. Pine and smoke. Wild earth after a storm. It wrapped around my senses, and my traitorous body shivered.

His hand lifted, stopping just shy of my cheek. He didn’t touch me, but the air sparked where his skin hovered close. My pulse hammered.

“You have spirit,” he murmured, voice low, almost thoughtful. “Most rogues grovel. You glare.”

I hated him for noticing. Hated him more for the way heat curled low in my belly despite the fear gnawing at my ribs. My wolf whined, rolling over, tail thumping with pathetic eagerness.

“Stay away from me,” I whispered hoarsely.

Instead of obeying, he leaned in, his breath brushing my cheek. “Tell me your name.”

My nails dug into my palms as I balled my fists.. Refusing him meant challenging him, and that was suicide. My lips parted against my will.

“Ella,” I breathed.

His silver eyes sharpened. He said my name like he was tasting it, claiming it. “Ella.”

The sound of it on his tongue sent another shiver racing down my spine.

Then, just like that, the faint softness vanished. His expression hardened, his entire aura snapping back into cold authority. He stepped back a fraction, just enough to make the air feel emptier.

“You trespassed into my territory, Ella.” His voice was ice, final and unyielding.

I opened my mouth to beg, to explain, to run—

But he cut me off with words that shattered the fragile ground I stood on.

“That makes you mine.”

My breath hitched, my pulse thundering in my ears.

No. Not his. Not anyone’s.

But the bond pulsed inside me like fire in my veins, chains I couldn’t break, even as every instinct screamed to run.

His silver eyes locked on mine, unreadable, unrelenting. “And I don’t let what’s mine escape.”

The air left my lungs. The door at my back suddenly felt like a cage.

Because in that moment, I realized something far more terrifying than being caught.

I didn’t want to run.