The full moon hung low over the pines, its silver light casting long shadows across the clearing where the pack gathered.

They moved as a living force — sleek wolves, fur gleaming under the night sky, breath misting in the cool summer air. Muscles rippled beneath pelts of russet, gray, and midnight black. They circled, low growls and sharp yips filling the air with the restless energy of the hunt.

Aria Greystone stood apart.

Wrapped in a thin hoodie and jeans, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, she felt their stares like icy needles pressing against her skin.

“You joining us tonight, Greystone?” sneered Jace Thorn, a thick-bodied wolf with eyes too small for his face. He stood on two legs now, half-shifted, his claws tapping against his belt. “Or are you waiting for your imaginary wolf to show up?”

Laughter rippled through the clearing. A few shifted wolves gave sharp, yipping barks that sounded too much like jeers.

Aria met Jace’s gaze with a steady calm she didn’t feel. “I’ll stay back. Wouldn’t want to slow you down.”

“Oh, right. You’re good at staying back. Real useful.”

“Enough.” The voice cut through the air like a whipcrack.

Alpha Marcus strode into the circle, shifting mid-step — human to wolf in a blink of bone and sinew. His massive gray form landed with a thud, his golden eyes gleaming like twin coals.

The pack fell silent.

Marcus prowled toward Aria. His wolf form towered over her, but she didn’t flinch.

“You’re lucky we let you stand here at all,” he said, voice a low snarl that rumbled in her chest. “Don’t mistake our tolerance for acceptance.”

Aria inclined her head, the only gesture she dared. “Understood, Alpha.”

Marcus huffed, a sharp exhale of breath. Then he turned, leading the pack into the woods in a fluid, violent motion. One by one, wolves fell into formation behind him — until Aria stood alone on the edge of the clearing.

The laughter resumed, softer now, fading into the distance.

She exhaled slowly, staring after them.

Nineteen years old. Born of pureblood lines. Raised inside pack territory. And still…

No wolf.

No shift.

No place.

The wind stirred the branches as Aria sank onto a fallen log, her heart a tight knot inside her chest.

This was the way of things. The way they’d always been.

She had learned long ago that hope was a useless, aching thing.

But tonight… tonight, something inside her burned.

It wasn’t anger. Not exactly. And it wasn’t sorrow.

It was… restless.

Hungry.

She rubbed her arms, willing the strange sensation away.

The wind shifted.

And the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

She wasn’t alone.

Her head snapped up, eyes scanning the shadows beyond the tree line. The clearing was empty — the pack gone, the night still.

But something stirred in the dark.

Something watching.

She rose to her feet, heart thudding, her fingers curling into fists.

A figure stepped into the clearing.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Clad in black, dark hair tousled by the wind. He moved like a shadow, silent and smooth, until the moonlight caught his face.

Sharp jawline. Eyes like storm clouds — gray, flecked with silver.

And a scar, thin and pale, slicing across his left eyebrow.

He didn’t look like a pack wolf.

He didn’t smell like one either.

He smelled like rain on stone… and something darker.

“Didn’t expect an audience,” Aria said, forcing her voice steady.

The man tilted his head slightly, as though considering her. “Neither did I.”

Silence stretched between them.

Aria swallowed. “You’re not from here.”

He gave a slow nod. “No.”

“Rogue?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

A hint of a smile touched his lips — slow, dangerous. “No.”

“Then what are you?”

He took a step forward, and though his movement was calm, her instincts screamed danger.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said softly. “You’re standing in a pack’s hunting ground… human.”

The word slid from his tongue like a challenge.

Aria’s jaw tightened.

“I’m not human,” she snapped before she could stop herself.

His eyes flickered, sharp and assessing. “No?”

Her pulse hammered in her ears.

“No.”

He studied her for a heartbeat longer — then nodded once, a shallow incline of his head.

“I see.”

Aria opened her mouth, but his gaze shifted suddenly — his expression sharpening like a blade.

“Get down.”

The command cracked like thunder.

Instinct took over. Aria dropped low as a dark shape lunged from the trees — a massive wolf, its fangs bared in a snarl.

The stranger moved faster than her eyes could follow.

One moment, he was standing still.

The next, he was on the wolf — a blur of claws and teeth and muscle.

The fight was brutal and silent. The rogue wolf didn’t stand a chance.

With a final, savage twist, the stranger slammed the wolf to the ground, his hand gripping its throat. The creature whimpered once — then stilled.

The man rose, shaking blood from his hand.

Aria stared.

The fight had lasted seconds.

The power he’d moved with…

He wasn’t pack. He wasn’t rogue.

He was something else.

Something terrifying.

Something… impossible.

He met her eyes calmly.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said quietly.

Neither should you, Aria wanted to say.

But the words caught in her throat.

Because deep down… she wasn’t afraid.

She should have been.

But she wasn’t.

The stranger gave her a long, searching look — then turned toward the trees.

“Wait.”

The word escaped before she could stop it.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“You never told me your name,” she said, unsure why it mattered.

He considered her for a long moment.

“Kael,” he said at last. “Kael Draven.”

A flicker of something — something old, something dangerous — stirred in the way he spoke his name.

And then he was gone, slipping into the shadows without a sound.

Aria stood alone in the clearing once more, the body of the rogue wolf cooling in the dirt beside her.

Her heart pounded, her mind racing.

Kael Draven.

The name echoed in her bones like a warning… and a promise.

She’d never met him before.

But somehow, she knew…

Her life would never be the same.