“I, Lia Volkov, reject you…”

“You’re being serious right now?” He asked, stopping her.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” She asked, her eyes hardening. “I am going to reject you… and you, Alpha, are going to accept it…”

***********************************

Marcel was bred to be a weapon.

A fighter.

An executioner.

The Alpha sent where rogues needed to be destroyed.

He never questioned it. Rogues were chaos. A stain on wolfkind. They were not to be protected, only eliminated. And he would never mate one.

Until his wolf chose her.

She is everything he was meant to end. A rogue with no pack, no protection, and no place in his world. The bond ignites against his will, only for her to be the one to reject…

But as the line between hunter and protector is shattered.

Because their kind wants her dead.

The rogues want her claimed.

And Marcel’s wolf will no longer be silenced.

She was never meant to survive him.

Yet she may be the one thing that brings him to his knees.

Lia:

I didn’t stop running.

My shoes struck dirt and gravel, lungs burning, pulse roaring in my ears as branches snapped back against my jacket. My pants were torn at the knee, streaked with mud and blood I didn’t remember earning. I hadn’t worn dresses in a long time. That version of me had died the night my father cast me out. The night where my whole life had changed.

Alphas weren’t meant to become rogues.

Yet here I was.

Hunted from every side, pushed into a darkness that I didn’t know I could survive.

The forest blurred as I pushed harder, ignoring the sharp protest in my legs. Behind me, somewhere beyond the dark, there were always footsteps. If not wolves sent by the Council, then rogues eager to cash in on my name. An Alpha-born rogue was worth more alive than dead, at least to the right people.

My own blood had decided that much.

The bond hit without warning.

It slammed into my spine, white-hot and violent, stealing the breath from my lungs. I staggered, catching myself against a tree as my vision swam.

No.

My wolf recoiled, snarling in instinctive fury, not submission. I didn’t need the pull tugging at my chest to know what it was. I’d felt bonds before, watched others kneel to them.

This one felt like a challenge.

Like war.

I turned slowly, already knowing who stood there.

Marcel Del Gardi.

The one person who always found me, and yet, always kept me alive despite his reputation.

“You know, running is not going to get you far.” He said, and I scoffed, wanting to run back. But my wolf wouldn’t allow it.

“Then follow up to that reputation of yours and end this.” I said, glaring at him.

“You and I both know that I can.” He said casually. “I am choosing not to for one reason, which you, just like me, feel.”

Even in the dark, he was unmistakable. Power rolled off him in suffocating waves, Alpha dominance honed into something sharp and merciless. This was the man sent to end conflicts the world didn’t want named. The fighter who wiped out rogue camps and never asked questions afterward.

The irony almost made me laugh.

My mate.

His gaze locked onto me, and I felt his wolf surge forward, claiming, demanding, recognizing what the world had decided to make forbidden.

“Well, then… I reject you,” I said, my voice rough but steady. “I won’t be claimed. Not by an Alpha who was meant to destroy me. Not by anyone in this world that knows nothing but death and hypocrisy.”

The bond screamed in protest. But he didn’t speak, not at first.

For the first time since I’d turned around, something flickered across his face. Surprise. Maybe disbelief. His jaw tightened, breath drawing in as if he intended to answer, perhaps to reject me back, perhaps worse. “You are being serious right now?”

“Yes, now… accept the rejection.”

“Say it formally then.” He said, taking a step toward me. “If you mean it, that is…”

“I, Lia Volkov, reject you as my mate.” I said, glaring at him.

He never got the chance to respond, though. And I never got the chance to run.

Growls rose from the trees.

Not one.

Many.

My blood went cold.

Rogues burst from the shadows, eyes wild, movements reckless with hunger and greed. One of them hit me hard from the side, claws ripping across my arm as I went down. Pain tore through me, bright and blinding. I fought back on instinct, kicking, twisting, but another shape lunged…

It never reached me.

The night suddenly turned into something that I could have never imagined.

Marcel moved like something unleashed.

I saw flashes through the pain, bodies crashing into trees, bones breaking, snarls cut off abruptly. He didn’t fight like a man protecting territory. He fought like a weapon fulfilling its purpose, every strike final, every movement devastating.

For me.

By the time the last body hit the ground, the forest had gone deathly quiet.

I tried to push myself up, wanting to run. My strength failed me, not allowing me to take one step forward.

Strong arms caught me, lifting me with effortless ease. His hold was solid, unyielding, nothing like the hesitation I’d expected.

The world tilted, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. “Let me go.” I whispered as he held me to his chest, his wolf meeting my own despite the informal rejection.

“You’re safe now,” he said, low and absolute, as if safety were something he could command into existence. “I’ll be sure of it, little wolf…”

I didn’t believe him.

But my body betrayed me anyway as everything went black.

Marcel:

She weighed less than she should have.

That was the first thing I noticed as I carried her through the gates, how light she felt in my arms, how wrong it was for someone with Alpha blood to be reduced to bone, muscle, and stubborn will. Her pulse fluttered against my wrist, fast but steady enough to tell me she wasn’t slipping away.

At least, not yet.

The territory lights cut through the trees as I crossed the perimeter. My men straightened the moment they caught my scent, and then hers. Confusion rippled through the ranks. I ignored it. I didn’t slow.

Her wolf stirred despite the rejection. Mine answered without asking permission, wanting to claim her.

I shut it down, knowing well that now was not the time.

The pack house doors opened before I reached them.

My mother stood at the entrance, as she always did when I returned injured or bloodied or carrying the aftermath of a fight. She had been by my side through wars, Council orders, and the day I decided I would never kneel again. Nothing surprised or phased her anymore.

Until now.

Her gaze dropped to the woman in my arms.

Then it sharpened.

“You brought someone,” she said slowly. “A woman.”

I didn’t answer, I knew that it wouldn’t change the fact.

She stepped closer, eyes narrowing as she inhaled. I felt it the second she caught the scent, Alpha blood, unmistakable, old and powerful. Then the confusion. The edge.

“And she’s a rogue,” my mother added. “She is an Alpha born rogue.”

Silence stretched.

“Why,” she asked carefully, “are you bringing a rogue into your territory, Marcel? When you should be ridding us from them, why did you choose to bring one in?”

I walked past her.

“She was injured,” I said, voice flat. “She’s under my protection. And no one is going to harm her.”

That stopped her.

My mother turned, following as I headed inside, her expression unreadable now. “You don’t protect rogues,” she said. “You end them. Or you leave them to the wild.”

“I didn’t tonight.” I said, looking down at the woman who stirred in my arms.

She looked at the woman again, really looked this time. At the torn clothes. The blood drying along her arm. The faint crease between her brows even in unconsciousness.

“An Alpha born rogue is not common. They shouldn’t even be rogues, there is a reason why they are Alphas.” my mother said quietly. “Why would she be a rogue? And have you thought about how you are going to explain this to Elara?”

“I don’t think that I am going to have to explain anything to anyone, mother.” I said, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Marcel…”

“I said, I am not going to explain a thing. She is here, under my protection, because I chose to bring her here. If anyone has a problem with that, they are going to be having a problem with me.” I said, and mother raised an eyebrow.

“What if I am the one who has the problem?” Mom asked, looking me dead in the eye.

I said nothing, turning to head to the infirmary once more, knowing that we could talk about the rest later. For now, I needed to have her tended to…

That was when Elara stepped into the hall.

She had always moved like she belonged there, because she did. The beta’s daughter. Raised within these walls. Groomed for them. My mother’s preferred outcome wrapped in loyalty and convenience.

Her eyes went straight to the woman in my arms.

Then her mouth tightened.

“Who is that?” Elara asked, frowning. “What happened to her?”

I didn’t stop walking.

I didn’t look at her.

“Elara,” my mother said, a warning threaded into her tone.

But Elara had already stepped closer, her gaze flicking between the woman’s face and the way my arms were locked around her. Possessive. Protective.

That, more than anything else, seemed to irritate her.

“She doesn’t smell like pack,” Elara said. “Why is she here? Did you bring in a rogue, Marcel?”

I reached the medical wing and finally stopped.

“Get the medical team,” I ordered, my voice leaving no room for argument. “Now. She is losing too much blood.”

They moved instantly.

White coats appeared, stretchers rolling forward, hands reaching for the woman I still hadn’t let go of. For a fraction of a second, one I didn’t allow myself to examine, I hesitated.

Then I lowered her carefully, ensuring she was supported before I stepped back.

“Take care of her,” I said. “No questions.”

The lead medic nodded. “Yes, Alpha.”

As they wheeled her away, her scent lingered in the air, wild, Alpha-strong, threaded with defiance and blood.

My mother watched me closely.

“You’re bringing chaos into this house,” she said. “One that you of all people shouldn’t have the time to deal with.”

“Chaos found me first,” I replied. “And I am going to deal with it as it is…”

Lia:

I woke up choking on air.

My body jerked upright before my mind caught up, heart slamming so hard it hurt. White walls replaced trees. The smell of antiseptic burned my nose. Lights, too bright, too clean, made my vision swim.

Not the forest.

Not dead.

The realization didn’t calm me. It made panic crash down harder, my heart racing faster than it should have.

I swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the sharp protest in my arm and shoulder. Pain flared, grounding and terrifying all at once. Someone had patched me up. Someone had brought me somewhere.

Pack territory.

I pushed to my feet, unsteady, instincts screaming to run.

“Easy,” a woman’s voice said, calm but firm. “Breathe. I know that you are scared, but you need to breathe.”

A hand lifted, not to grab, not to restrain, but to stop me without touching me. Authority radiated from her in a way that made my wolf hesitate despite herself.

“Slowly,” she added. “In. And out. You need to calm yourself, child. I know that you don’t want to, but you must.”

I didn’t listen.

I knew better than to trust strangers in packs.

I took another step, dizziness crashing into me like a wall. The room tilted. My knees nearly buckled.

“You won’t make it past the door, your body is still too weak. And frankly, I don’t even think that you would know where to go.” she said gently. “Plus, no one is chasing you here. You can allow yourself to sit. And as much as I wouldn’t have said it, you are safe as my son bids it.”

I froze.

The woman stood a few feet away, composed, observant. Silver threaded through her dark hair, her posture straight, her presence… steady. Alpha-adjacent. Powerful in a quieter way. Her eyes softened as they met mine, not pity. Recognition.

Fear.

She saw it immediately.

“You’re terrified, and we are not going to get anywhere with this.” she said, not accusing. Stating a fact. “And that tells me more than your scent ever could. An Alpha born who turned rogue.”

“You know nothing.” I said, and she smiled.

“I know enough.” She said, looking me in the eye. “And I think that the two of us know that I am not wrong in my statement.”

My chest rose and fell too fast. “Where am I?” I demanded, my voice hoarse.

“Safe,” she replied. “As I said, my son wants you safe. No one is going to harm you.”

I laughed, short, broken. “That’s a lie. This is no safe ground.”

“No,” she said. “It isn’t. I have no reason to lie to you. And if I, or anyone, wanted you hurt, trust me, child… you would have been.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to the door, then back to me. “Sit,” she instructed. “Before you collapse. You are already fighting back to balance, and your wolf has yet to heal. You should exert yourself simply because you are choosing to be stubborn.”

“I don’t trust you.” I said, and she smiled.

“You don’t need to. Your body will do the job before you can choose to say another word.” She said, and though I wanted to object… she was right. My body betrayed me, sinking back onto the bed as my strength drained away.

“How am I alive?” I asked quietly. “I was… I should have been dead.”

Her lips pressed together for a moment before she answered. “My son brought you here. You were bleeding. You were taken care of. You just need to heal for now.”

The words didn’t make sense.

“Your… son?” I echoed. “You keep talking about him, but you never mentioned…”

“Yes, my son.” She stepped closer now, close enough that I could smell her properly, pack, authority, warmth.

“What?”

“You were unconscious when you arrived. Injured. He carried you himself.” She said, not bothering to stop, to allow me to think, to regather my thoughts. “You would have died if he hadn’t.”

My mind scrambled, memories colliding and refusing to line up.

The bond.

The rejection.

The growls.

Violence exploding around me…

Him.

Marcel.

My breath caught painfully as his face surfaced in my mind, sharp and unyielding, his voice low and certain as the world went dark.

You’re safe now.

“No,” I whispered. “That doesn’t make sense. He kills…”

The woman watched the realization dawn, something unreadable crossing her expression.

“You remember him,” she said, stopping me. “And to say the least, you know of him.”

Before I could answer, before I could decide whether to deny it, the door opened.

The room changed instantly.

Power filled the space, heavy and unmistakable, pressing into my skin like a warning. My wolf stirred despite everything, despite the rejection, despite my fear.

He… Marcel, walked in.

His gaze went straight to me.

“Mother,” he said calmly, breaking the tension without raising his voice, “please give us a moment.”

The woman, Isobel, my mind supplied distantly, studied us both. Then she nodded once.

“I’ll be nearby,” she said, her eyes lingering on me. “You are safe here, child. Remember that. If we wanted you dead… you wouldn’t have survived long enough to wake up now…”