Moonbound Claim

The wolf had been tracking her for three days.

Kael stood at the edge of the forest, his massive frame rigid with tension as he watched the woman set up her camera equipment in the meadow below. His pack brothers had warned him—a human had entered their territory, dangerously close to the sacred grounds. They wanted him to drive her out, to ensure their secrets remained hidden.

But the moment the wind carried her scent to him, everything changed.

Honeysuckle and wild rain. Something indefinable that made his wolf surge forward, demanding, insistent. Mine.

It wasn't possible. Kael had lived for over two centuries without finding his true mate. He'd resigned himself to leading his pack alone, bonding only through duty and never through destiny. The ancient magic that forged such connections was rare, unpredictable, and absolute.

And yet, as he watched this human woman with her dark hair catching the afternoon light, her delicate fingers adjusting the lens with careful precision, his wolf knew with a certainty that resonated in his bones.

She was his. His mate. His to claim, to protect, to possess.

The full moon was three nights away. Already he could feel its pull, the wildness rising beneath his skin. Control would become difficult, then impossible. His pack would gather, would run, would hunt. And if she was still here...

Kael's eyes flashed gold as a low growl rumbled through his chest. Let her be here. Let her stay.

Because once he caught her, once he breathed in her scent and felt her body beneath his, there would be no letting go. The bond would demand completion. His wolf would accept nothing less than her total surrender.

He stepped back into the shadows of the trees, his form blurring and shifting until a massive silver-gray wolf stood where the man had been. He would watch. He would wait. And when the time came, he would claim what was his.

The woman below shivered suddenly, as if sensing predatory eyes upon her. She turned, scanning the tree line with those expressive eyes—green as spring leaves, he would later discover. For a heartbeat, their gazes locked across the distance.

Then she blinked, and he was gone, melting into the forest like smoke.

But Kael knew she'd felt it. That first electric connection, that primal awareness.

The hunt had begun.

Iris Chen had always been drawn to wild places.

Perhaps it was growing up in the suffocating order of the city, where every moment was scheduled and every path predetermined. Or maybe it was the way her mother had clutched at her, desperately trying to keep her safe, keep her small, keep her from taking any risks at all.

Whatever the reason, at twenty-eight, she'd finally broken free. Wildlife photography wasn't the stable career her parents had envisioned—she was supposed to be a doctor, a lawyer, something respectable—but for the first time in her ...