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Prologue: The Calling
The forest had been calling to her for weeks.
Sera Chen stood at the edge of Blackwood Forest, her camera bag heavy on her shoulder, and stared into the darkness between the ancient trees. The late afternoon sun couldn't penetrate the dense canopy, leaving the woods perpetually shrouded in shadow. Local legends claimed that nothing that entered those woods after dark ever came out again.
She'd come to the Pacific Northwest to photograph the region's wolf populations for National Geographic, but every local she'd interviewed had the same warning: stay away from Blackwood. The wolves there weren't natural. They were something else. Something older.
Sera didn't believe in supernatural nonsense. She believed in science, in nature, in the rational explanations that governed the world. But she couldn't deny the pull she felt toward those treessomething primal that made her skin prickle and her heart race.
Just one hour, she told herself. She'd hike in, get some shots of the terrain, and be back before sunset. Easy.
The moment she crossed the threshold into Blackwood, the temperature dropped ten degrees. The sounds of the outside world traffic, birds, wind vanished as if someone had flipped a switch. The only sound was her own breathing and the crunch of dead leaves beneath her boots.
Sera raised her camera, focusing on a shaft of pale light that managed to pierce the canopy. The forest was beautiful in its darkness, almost otherworldly. She took shot after shot, losing herself in her work, in the play of shadow and light.
She didn't notice how deep she'd gone until she checked her watch and realized an hour had become three.
The sun would be setting soon.
Sera turned to retrace her steps, but nothing looked familiar. Every tree seemed identical, every shadow deeper than before. Her internal compass, usually infallible, spun uselessly. She was lost.
That's when she heard it.
A low growl that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, vibrating through her chest like a second heartbeat. Sera froze, her hand instinctively reaching for the bear spray on her belt.
Movement in her peripheral vision. She spun, camera forgotten, and saw them.
Wolves.
But not like any wolves she'd ever seen or studied. These creatures were massive, easily twice the size of natural wolves, with fur so black it seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Their eyes glowed with an eerie silver luminescence that had nothing to do with reflected light.
There were five of them, forming a semicircle around her, cutting off any escape.
The largest one stepped forward, and Sera's breath caught. This wolf was enormous, its shoulder reaching her chest. Scars marked its muzzle and flanksevidence of countless battles. But it was the intelligence in those silver eyes that made her knees weak. This wasn't an animal look...
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.
