Read Now
Prologue: The Scent
Kael Blackwood had been tracking the scent for three days.
It drifted through his territory like smoke, elusive and intoxicating, calling to something primal deep in his chest. His wolf clawed beneath his skin, desperate to find the source, to claim what belonged to them.
The pack had noticed his distraction. His beta, Marcus, had asked twice if everything was alright. Kael had growled him into silence both times.
Nothing was alright. Everything had changed the moment that scent—honeysuckle and lightning, wild and sweet and dangerous—had crossed into Shadowpaw land.
Now, standing on the ridge overlooking the valley, Kael watched the woman who carried that scent stumble through the forest below. She was lost, clearly, her expensive hiking boots slipping on moss-covered stones, her designer jacket snagged by branches.
She didn't belong here.
But his wolf didn't care. Mine, it snarled. Ours. Mate.
Kael's eyes flashed gold in the darkness. He'd waited thirty-four years for this moment, had begun to believe it would never come. The alpha of the Shadowpaw pack, powerful and feared, brought to his knees by the scent of a woman who didn't even know he existed.
Yet.
He began his descent, moving through the shadows with predatory grace. The hunt had begun, and he always caught his prey.
Sera Winters was absolutely, completely, utterly lost.
"This is fine," she muttered to herself, pushing a branch out of her face. "This is totally fine. Just a nice relaxing hike. Nothing to worry about."
The GPS on her phone had stopped working two hours ago. The trail markers had disappeared about an hour after that. And now the sun was setting, painting the mountain forest in shades of crimson and gold that would have been beautiful if she wasn't slowly freaking out.
She'd come to the Cascade Mountains to escape. To think. To figure out what the hell she was going to do with her life now that everything had fallen apart. Her job, her engagement, her carefully constructed existence in Seattle—all of it had crumbled in the span of two weeks.
So she'd done what any rational person would do: rented a cabin in the middle of nowhere, bought some hiking gear, and decided to "find herself" or whatever people did when their lives imploded.
Except she was pretty sure "finding herself" wasn't supposed to involve getting lost in the wilderness as night fell.
A twig snapped behind her.
Sera spun around, her heart hammering. "Hello?"
The forest seemed to hold its breath. Even the birds had gone silent.
"Is someone there?" Her voice sounded small in the vast emptiness.
Nothing. Just shadows deepening between the trees.
She was being ridiculous. There was no one out here. It was probably just a deer or something.
Still, the hair on the ba...
Dante Rivers spent a decade traveling through the forests and ancient ruins of Eastern Europe, collecting folklore and mythology that would later breathe life into his supernatural romances. A researcher at heart, he became fascinated by the primal stories of shapeshifters, vampires, and fated mates that transcend cultures. From his cabin deep in the Pacific Northwest woods, Dante channels these ancient tales into modern paranormal romance. His unique perspective as a male author brings authenticity to the alpha male psyche—the struggle between beast and man, the protective instinct, the all-consuming need to claim one's mate.
