Chapter 2: The Chase Through Moonlit Woods
The door slammed behind her, and Bria ran.
She didn't know where she was going. The hallway stretched ahead like a throat, dark and endless, and her heels slipped on the polished floor as she fled. Her body was still shaking. Her thighs were slick with her own arousal, her chin damp from his mouth, and every step sent a fresh wave of humiliation crashing through her.
What the fuck had she just let him do.
The staircase appeared on her left. She took it, descending two steps at a time, one hand skimming the railing for balance. The ballroom's distant murmur grew louder, then faded again as she veered away from the main entrance. She couldn't face those people. Couldn't paste on a smile and pretend she hadn't just come apart on a billionaire's desk while he knelt between her legs like a supplicant.
A side door. Glass. Moonlight beyond.
Bria shoved it open and stumbled into the night.
The cold hit her like a wall. It stole her breath, raised goosebumps along her bare arms, but she welcomed it. Anything to wash away the heat still crawling under her skin. The terrace stretched before her, stone railings carved with wolves' heads, and beyond that—
The forest.
Ancient oaks rose like dark sentinels against the sky. Mist curled between their trunks, thick and silver, catching the moonlight in lazy spirals. The air smelled of pine and wet earth and something else—something animal, musky, wild. It called to her.
Bria descended the terrace steps. Her heels sank into soft grass, and she kicked them off, leaving them behind. The ground was cold and damp under her bare feet. She didn't care.
She needed to think. She needed to figure out what the hell was happening to her.
Werewolf. The word echoed in her skull like a curse. It was insane. It was impossible. And yet—
And yet she'd felt it. The moment his mouth touched her, something inside her had stirred. Something that had been sleeping her whole life, waiting for a key she'd never known existed. His teeth had grazed her clit, and she'd wanted him to bite. His fingers had curled inside her, and she'd wanted them to stay forever.
That wasn't normal. That wasn't her.
Was it?
The forest swallowed her whole.
Bria walked until the estate lights disappeared behind her. The mist grew thicker, coiling around her ankles, licking at her bare legs. The howls started somewhere to her left—low, mournful, a sound that vibrated in her chest like a second heartbeat.
She should have been afraid. Any sane person would have turned back.
But Bria had never been sane. That was the problem.
Another howl. Closer this time. The pines shuddered, and a flock of birds exploded from the canopy, shrieking into the sky. Bria's heart stuttered. She turned, scanning the darkness between the trees.
Two eyes stared back at her. Gold. Burning.
The wolf stepped into the moonlight.
He was massive. Bigger than any natural animal, his shoulders level with her waist, his black fur rippling like water in the pale light. His muzzle was long, his teeth white and sharp, and those eyes—those impossibly golden eyes—held her frozen in place.
Bria knew it was him. She didn't need to ask. The scent was the same. Pine and storm and something that made her knees weak.
"You've got to be kidding me," she whispered.
The wolf growled. Low. Commanding.
Then he charged.
Bria ran.
She didn't think. Her body just moved, bare feet slapping against roots and rocks, branches whipping her face and arms as she crashed through the underbrush. The mist swallowed her screams. The howls multiplied behind her, a chorus of packmates joining the hunt, but she knew—somehow—that they weren't chasing her. They were following him. Watching. Witnessing.
The ground dipped. Her foot caught a root, and she went down hard, the breath exploding from her lungs. Mud splattered her dress. Pain flared in her palm where a rock sliced the skin.
Then he was on her.
The wolf's weight pressed her into the mossy earth, one massive paw pinning her shoulder, another braced beside her head. His breath was hot and wet against her cheek. His teeth were inches from her throat.
Bria couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The world had narrowed to the weight of him, the heat of him, the wild, animal musk filling her nostrils until she was drowning in it.
Something shifted. The pressure of his paw changed, and then it wasn't a paw anymore. It was a hand. A human hand, long-fingered, strong, pressing her into the ground while the rest of him—
Adrian's naked body covered hers.
"You smell like an invitation," he growled against her ear. "You run from me, and your body screams yes. You say no, but your cunt clenches around air, desperate for my cock."
Bria tried to shove him off. Her hands found his chest, hot skin over rigid muscle, and the contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core. She hated it. She hated him.
"You son of a—"
He kissed her.
It was nothing like the first time. That had been controlled, a deliberate claiming. This was savagery. His tongue forced her mouth open, tasting of copper and forest, sweeping past her defenses like they were nothing. His hands tore at her dress, the fabric ripping with a wet sound, and then her breasts were bare, her nipples hardening instantly in the cold air.
"Stop," she gasped against his mouth.
"You don't want me to stop." He latched onto her neck, sucking hard enough to bruise. "You want me to fill you up until you're dripping. Until you can't remember a time when you weren't mine."
"I'm not—ahh—" His teeth grazed her pulse point, and her hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against his thigh. She was so wet. She could feel it slicking her thighs, bared now by the ruined dress bunched around her waist.
Adrian groaned. "Fuck, you're soaked." His hand slid between them, fingers finding her folds and spreading them open. "This pussy knows what it needs, even if your mouth keeps lying."
"Go to hell."
He laughed, low and rough. "Already there, sweetheart. I've been in hell since the moment I caught your scent."
Two fingers shoved inside her without warning. Bria screamed—not in pain, but in shock, in pleasure so sharp it bordered on agony. He pumped them once, twice, then pulled them out and brought them to his mouth.
"Taste yourself." He pushed his fingers past her lips, and she tasted salt and musk and something sweet. "That's what you do to me. That's what you've always done to me."
She tried to bite him. He pulled his fingers back and grinned, teeth white in the moonlight.
"Feral little thing," he murmured. "I like it."
Then he flipped her onto her stomach.
The moss was cold and soft against her bare skin. Bria's hands scrabbled for purchase, but he was already behind her, his thighs spreading hers, his cock—god, his cock—pressing hot and hard against her entrance.
"Wait—"
"No more waiting." His voice was barely human. "I've waited fifteen years for you. I'm done waiting."
He thrust inside her.
The world exploded.
Bria couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He was huge, stretching her wider than she'd ever been stretched, filling her so completely that she felt every ridge and vein of him. Her body clenched around him, a reflex she couldn't control, and Adrian roared—a sound that started human and ended animal.
"Fuck," he snarled. "You're so tight. So fucking perfect."
He pulled out slowly, then slammed back in. The force drove her forward, her nails gouging furrows in the earth. Again. Harder. Again. The rhythm built, ruthless and primal, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the trees.
Bria sobbed into the moss. "It's too much—"
"You can take it." He grabbed her hips and tilted them up, changing the angle. The next thrust hit something deep inside her, a spot she hadn't known existed, and she screamed as an orgasm ripped through her without warning.
"Good girl." His voice was a rasp. "Come on my cock. Show me how much you love this."
"I don't—I'm not—"
He fucked her through the climax, not giving her a moment to recover. Her body was a live wire, every nerve ending on fire. When she came again, it was almost violent—her vision blacked out, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Adrian kept going. Sweat dripped from his chest onto her back. His breath was ragged, animalistic. His hands on her hips were claws now—actual claws, sharp tips digging into her skin, drawing blood.
"Last chance," he grated. "Tell me to stop. I'll stop."
She should have said it. Every rational part of her brain screamed for her to say it.
But the words wouldn't come.
"Do it," she heard herself say. "Whatever you're going to do. Do it."
He didn't need more permission.
His body covered hers completely, and then his teeth—sharp, long, not entirely human—sank into the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
The pain was blinding. The pleasure was worse.
Bria's spine arched. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Something tore inside her—not flesh, but something deeper. Something spiritual. She felt it rip free and connect to him, a golden thread stretching between them, binding her to this monster with chains she couldn't see.
Adrian held the bite. His hips never stopped moving. He fucked her through the claiming, through the pain and the pleasure and the impossible flood of emotion crashing over both of them. She felt his tears against her cheek, warm and wet. She felt his heart beating against her back, wild and desperate. She felt everything.
The bond snapped into place.
Bria came a third time, and this one was different. This one came from somewhere else—somewhere deeper than her body. It rolled through her like thunder, shaking her to the core, and she heard herself wail his name into the uncaring forest.
Adrian followed a heartbeat later. His cock swelled inside her, locking them together, and then he was pouring into her, hot and thick, marking her from the inside out. He collapsed onto his side, pulling her with him, still buried deep, still connected.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their ragged breathing and the distant howls of the pack, singing to the moon in celebration.
Bria stared at the trees. Her shoulder throbbed. Her body was a ruin. She was lying naked on the forest floor, covered in mud and sweat and him, and she had never been so terrified in her life.
"What did you do to me?" she whispered.
Adrian's arm tightened around her waist. His lips brushed her newly-bitten shoulder, soothing the wound.
"I claimed you." His voice was thick with exhaustion and satisfaction. "You're mine now, Bria. There's no going back."
"No going back." She repeated the words, tasting ash.
"No." His hand slid up her stomach, over her breasts, coming to rest over her heart. "This belongs to me now. And I'll burn the world down before I let anyone take it from me."
Bria should have fought. She should have clawed free and run until her legs gave out. She should have told him exactly where he could shove his claiming and his bond and his impossible golden eyes.
Instead, she lay there.
His warmth seeped into her bones. His scent wrapped around her like a second skin. And somewhere deep in the place she'd always kept hidden, something wild finally opened its eyes and looked back.
The howls rose again. The moon hung low and heavy. And Bria Sinclair, investigative journalist, woman who answered to no one, felt the truth settle into her chest like a stone.
She wasn't running anymore.
She was home.
The word sat in her chest like a swallowed stone.
Bria pressed her palm flat against the moss, feeling the damp cold seep into her skin. Mud caked her thighs. Blood—hers—trickled from the bite on her shoulder, mixing with his sweat and her own juices drying sticky between her legs. She should have felt violated. She should have felt ruined.
Instead, she felt anchored.
Adrian's arm stayed locked around her waist, his breath warm against the back of her neck. His cock had softened inside her, but he hadn't pulled out. Every few seconds, his hips twitched, a lazy, involuntary pulse that sent aftershocks through her nervous system. She hated how good it felt.
"We need to move," he murmured against her hair. "The pack is watching."
"Let them watch." The words came out bitter, but her body betrayed her by pressing back against his chest. "They already saw everything else."
A low rumble vibrated through him. Not quite a laugh. "You're angry."
"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock."
He pulled out slowly. The sudden emptiness made her gasp—a raw, wet sound that echoed through the trees. Cum leaked from her, hot and thick, sliding down her inner thigh. Adrian made a noise deep in his throat, possessive and satisfied.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Look at you. Dripping with me."
"Shut up."
He rolled her onto her back. The moss squelched beneath her shoulders, and she stared up at him—naked, mud-streaked, his cock still half-hard and glistening with her. Moonlight carved shadows across his face, catching the sharp angles of his jaw, the predatory gleam in his eyes. He looked like something carved from the forest itself.
"You marked me," she said flatly.
"I did."
"That wasn't part of the deal."
"There was no deal." He leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of her head. "You walked into my territory. You let me touch you. You came on my tongue and my fingers and my cock. And then you ran." His voice dropped. "What did you think was going to happen?"
Bria's jaw tightened. "I thought you'd let me go."
"I can't." The words came out raw. "I've tried. For fifteen years, I've tried to convince myself I didn't need this. Didn't need you. I built an empire. I built a pack. I told myself it was enough."
"And?"
"And then you walked into my ballroom in a borrowed dress with a recorder in your purse and a death wish in your eyes." He traced the line of her collarbone with one finger. "And I knew. I knew the second I smelled you. Jasmine and rain and stubborn, infuriating woman."
Bria closed her eyes. The bond hummed between them, a constant thrum of his emotions bleeding into hers. Possessiveness. Relief. Fear. So much fear, buried beneath the dominance, and she didn't know what to do with it.
"You're afraid," she said.
His finger stilled. "What?"
"I can feel it." She opened her eyes. "Through whatever the hell you did to me. You're terrified."
Adrian's expression shuttered. He pulled back, sitting on his heels, giving her space. The distance felt wrong. Her body actually ached for his warmth, and she hated herself for it.
"I'm not afraid of anything," he said.
"Liar."
His eyes flashed gold. "Careful."
"Or what?" Bria pushed herself up on her elbows. Mud dripped from her hair. Her torn dress hung in shreds around her waist, her breasts still bare and cold. "You'll bite me again? Already done that. You'll fuck me again? Been there. You'll—"
He kissed her.
It was softer this time. Almost gentle. His lips moved against hers like he was trying to memorize the shape of them, and despite everything—despite the anger and the fear and the impossible situation—Bria kissed him back. Her fingers found his hair, tangling in the dark strands, and she pulled him closer.
When they broke apart, his forehead rested against hers.
"I'm afraid of losing you," he whispered. "I've lost everyone I've ever loved. My parents. My sister. My best friend. I've spent decades building walls so high that no one could climb them."
"And then I showed up."
"And then you showed up." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You scaled the walls in five minutes and set fire to everything inside."
Bria didn't know what to say. So she said nothing.
Adrian stood. For a moment, she thought he was going to leave her there—naked and mud-caked and marked—but then he bent down and slid his arms beneath her knees and shoulders. He lifted her like she weighed nothing.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking you home."
"I have an apartment."
"You have a pack now." He started walking. The forest parted around him, trees seeming to lean away as he passed. "Your apartment is full of things that don't matter. Your life there is a lie you've been telling yourself."
"My life there is mine."
"Was." He looked down at her, and something in his expression softened. "I know you hate this. I know you want to fight. But you can't fight biology, Bria. You can't fight the bond."
"I can try."
"You can." He nodded. "And I won't stop you. But every time you run, I'll follow. Every time you push, I'll hold. Every time you scream, I'll listen." His arms tightened. "I'm not your enemy."
"You're a stranger who claims to own me."
"I'm a stranger who's been waiting for you since before you were born." He stepped over a fallen log, his bare feet silent on the forest floor. "And I don't own you. The bond doesn't work that way. It's a partnership. A balance."
"You're an Alpha."
"And you're an Alpha's daughter." His eyes glinted. "You have just as much power as I do. You just don't know how to use it yet."
Bria fell silent.
The forest stretched around them, endless and dark. The howls had faded, replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. Mist curled around Adrian's ankles as he walked, but he moved through it like it belonged to him—like everything belonged to him.
Her shoulder throbbed. The bite was healing already—she could feel it knitting together, faster than any wound should. Another impossibility stacked on top of all the others.
"You're going to need to explain things," she said finally. "The pack. The bond. Why my father left. Why my mother never told me."
"I will."
"When?"
"Tomorrow." He glanced down at her. "Tonight, you need to rest. You need to eat. You need to let your body adjust."
"My body feels fine."
Adrian's lips curved. "Your body is exhausted. You just came three times and got claimed in a forest. You're running on adrenaline and spite."
"I've always run on spite."
"I noticed."
The edge of the forest appeared ahead. Beyond it, the Kane Estate rose against the night sky—impossibly large, every window glowing with warm light. Bria's stomach clenched. She'd walked out of that building less than an hour ago, determined to destroy the man who owned it.
Now she was being carried back like a bride.
"This doesn't mean I forgive you," she said.
"I know."
"This doesn't mean I trust you."
"I know."
"This doesn't mean—" She stopped. Because she didn't know what she was trying to say. Nothing made sense anymore. Her entire worldview had shattered and reformed into something unrecognizable.
Adrian crossed the terrace. The glass door she'd fled through earlier still stood open, and he carried her through it without hesitation. The hallway beyond was empty now—the party must have ended—but the faint scent of champagne and perfume lingered in the air.
"I need a shower," Bria muttered.
"You need sleep."
"I need to wash your forest off my skin."
He carried her up the staircase. Past the office where he'd first tasted her. Past portraits of people she didn't recognize—ancestors, probably, generations of wolves with the same golden eyes. Bria studied their faces as she passed, searching for her own features in their bloodlines.
She found nothing.
Adrian stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. He pushed it open without ceremony, revealing a bedroom that was surprisingly understated—dark wood, cream linens, a single window overlooking the forest they'd just left. The bed was massive, rumpled, like he'd left it in a hurry.
"This is yours," he said.
"Your room?"
"Ours." He set her on the edge of the bed. The sheets were cool and soft beneath her muddy legs. "The bond makes it worse to be apart. Especially in the beginning. Your body will ache for mine."
"That's convenient for you."
"It's torture for both of us." He knelt in front of her, his hands resting on her knees. "I'll sleep on the floor if you want. But I won't leave the room."
Bria looked down at him—this powerful, terrifying man on his knees before her. His cheek was still red from her slap. Mud streaked his chest and arms. His eyes, still faintly gold, watched her with an intensity that should have been frightening.
Instead, it made her feel something she didn't want to name.
"Stay," she said quietly. "But don't touch me."
Adrian nodded. He rose, crossed to a dresser, and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He handed them to her without a word.
Then he walked to the far side of the room and sat on the floor, his back against the wall, his eyes never leaving her.
Bria changed in silence. The clothes smelled like him—pine and storm and something warm underneath. She crawled under the covers, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion she'd been fighting for hours.
Adrian watched from the shadows.
"You're really going to sleep on the floor," she mumbled.
"I told you I would."
"Idiot."
"Probably."
Bria closed her eyes. The bond hummed between them, steady and warm, and despite everything—the betrayal, the claiming, the impossible future stretching before her—she felt herself sinking into sleep.
Somewhere in the darkness, Adrian's voice drifted to her.
"Sleep, little wolf. I'll keep the monsters away."
She didn't answer.
But she didn't run either.