Freya Nightshade has always felt a strange pull toward the forbidden forest that looms just beyond her village, but she's spent her life obeying her grandmother's warnings to stay far away. That all changes one fateful night under the Harvest Moon w...
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The Hunter's Moon dominated the October sky, its pale, ghostly light spilling over the forest, casting long, jagged shadows that stretched across the ground like the talons of some unseen creature. The air was thick with the sharpness of autumn—an earthy scent that mingled with the hint of frost clinging to the leaves. The forest was alive, thrumming with a deeper, more primal energy. It was as if the very trees themselves were bracing for the oncoming winter, their branches creaking like old bones, heavy with the weight of what was to come.
Ozias moved through the underbrush with practiced precision, his wolf form silent and sleek against the night. His fur bristled with the electricity of the moon's influence, his heightened senses attuned to every sound, every shift in the air. This was his element. This was the time of year when the Alpha in him came alive with a sharper edge, a deeper purpose. The pack was with him, hunting, moving as one beneath the full Hunter's Moon—a time to prepare for the harsh winter ahead.
His sharp eyes caught the subtle movements of his packmates as they circled the clearing ahead. They moved with lethal grace, each wolf blending seamlessly into the shadows. The scent of deer hung in the air, tantalizing, drawing them forward as their primal instincts kicked into high gear. Tonight, they hunted for survival. Every member of the pack understood the importance of this moon, the last full moon before the first true frost of the season. The deer they pursued would sustain them through the cold, and each wolf knew their role.
Ozias's senses were on fire, the taste of the hunt thrumming in his veins. And yet, despite the clarity and focus the wolf in him craved, something tugged at the back of his mind. Something that had been gnawing at him for weeks, refusing to be ignored.
Freya.
Her name slipped through his consciousness like a whisper, unbidden but impossible to shake. It had been weeks since that night in the woods, yet her presence lingered in his thoughts like a constant undercurrent. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the needs of the pack, on the demands of his position as Alpha, his mind always drifted back to her. To those clear, wide eyes. To the way she had looked at him that night beneath the Harvest Moon—half frightened, half curious, and entirely unforgettable.
What was it about her that had burrowed so deeply into his mind? He couldn't explain it, not fully. She was human, after all. She didn't belong in his world—didn't belong in these woods, not with the dangers that lurked here. And yet, every time he thought of her, a fierce protectiveness surged in his chest, an instinct that went beyond reason. It was maddening.
"Ozias."
Lysander's voice broke through his thoughts, steady and calm through the mind-link, a tether to reality. Ozias flicked his ears, his head turning slightly in Lysander's direction. The beta's sleek form moved through the trees, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight.
