Leera POV

I clutch my camera, the strap digging into my palm as I weave through the crowded arena. The air hums with the buzz of students, the sharp scent of popcorn, and the faint tang of ice. My heart thumps louder than the cheering crowd, my sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. This is my first photojournalism assignment, and I’m already late. Zoey, my roommate, had insisted on braiding my silver hair into something “professional but cute,” and now I’m paying for it, dodging elbows to reach the press section.

The rink stretches out below, a gleaming sheet of ice under harsh lights. Hockey players glide across it, sticks clacking, their shouts muffled by helmets. I scan for the team I’m supposed to interview Shawnee State’s Wolves. My professor’s words echo Get candids, Leera. Capture the raw energy. Easier said than done when my hands are shaking, and my grief feels like a stone in my chest. Mom and Dad would’ve loved this chaos, their cameras clicking in sync. I swallow hard, adjusting the moonstone ring on my finger, a gift from Mom. Focus.

I spot an empty seat near the glass and dart for it, nearly tripping over a spilled soda. “Sorry!” I mutter to no one, sliding into the chair. My notebook flops open, and I scribble: *Wolves vs. Vultures. Energy. Motion.* The words feel hollow, but I need this grade. I lift my camera, zooming in on a player with lighter hair and broad shoulders, his jersey marked *Roman, #17*. He’s fast, brutal, slamming an opponent against the boards. The crowd roars. I snap a shot, the shutter’s click grounding me.

“First time at a game?” a voice asks, bright and curious. I glance over to see a girl with a vibrant scarf, her dark curls bouncing. She’s got a notebook too, but hers is covered in stickers.

“Yeah,” I admit, lowering my camera. “Leera.”

“Zoey,” she says, grinning. “You look like you’re about to bolt. Relax. The Wolves are intense, but they’re nice. Well, most of them.” She nods toward the rink. “That’s Roman, their star. Total heartthrob, but don’t tell him I said that.”

I laugh, the sound surprising me. It’s been months since I laughed without forcing it. “Noted. I’m here for an interview, though. Photojournalism class.”

“Fancy,” Zoey teases. “Stick with me. I know the team’s PR guy. He’ll get you backstage.”

“Backstage?” I raise an eyebrow, but my stomach flips. I’m not ready for face-to-face interviews. My therapist’s voice floats in: *One step at a time, Leera.* I nod. “Okay. Thanks.”

The game ends with the Wolves winning 4-2, and Zoey drags me toward the locker room area, chatting about campus gossip. The hallway smells of sweat and industrial cleaner, the walls lined with team posters. My pulse spikes as we reach a door marked Press Only. Zoey winks, knocking sharply.

A guy with a clipboard opens it, his expression bored. “Names?”

“Zoey, campus paper. This is Leera, photojournalism. She’s got an assignment.”

He scans his list, then waves us in. “Five minutes. Roman’s in a mood.”

Inside, the air is thick with steam and the low hum of players unwinding. I clutch my camera like a lifeline, scanning for Roman. He’s at the far end, leaning against a locker, towel around his neck. His golden skin glistens, and his mismatched blue-green eyes lock onto me the second I step closer. My breath catches. It’s not just his looks though, wow it’s something else. A tingling warmth spreads through me, like static electricity. My fingers tighten on my camera.

“You the reporter?” Roman’s voice is low, rough, like he’s holding back a growl. He straightens, towering over me. I’m barely at his chest, my petite frame dwarfed by his presence.

“Photographer,” I correct, my voice shakier than I’d like. “Leera. I’m… I’m with the class. For candids and an interview.”

His gaze sharpens, and I swear I smell something sweet—spun sugar, maybe honeysuckles. It’s disorienting. He steps closer, his eyes flickering over my face, my silver hair, my necklace. “You’re new,” he says, not a question.

“Yeah. Freshman.” I lift my camera, trying to focus. “Can I get a shot? For the assignment?”

He nods, but his jaw tightens, like he’s fighting something. I snap a photo, the flash catching the intensity in his eyes. My skin prickles, and I lower the camera, confused. “So, uh, what’s it like being the team’s star?”

“Work,” he says curtly, then softens. “It’s… a release. Keeps me grounded.” His voice carries a weight I don’t understand, like he’s talking about more than hockey.

Before I can ask another question, he sways, his hand gripping the locker. “You okay?” I ask, stepping forward instinctively.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he drops to his knees, his breath ragged. The other players freeze, staring. My heart races. “Roman? What’s wrong?”

His eyes meet mine, wild, almost glowing. “Your scent,” he mutters, voice barely audible. “It’s… impossible.”

“My what?” I glance at Zoey, who’s wide-eyed, backing away. The other players murmur, their voices tense. I kneel beside him, my hand hovering. “Do you need a medic?”

“No,” he snaps, then softer, “No. Just… stay there.” He inhales deeply, like he’s savoring something, and my cheeks burn. What is happening?

“Roman, get it together,” a sharp voice cuts through. A woman strides in, her green eyes glinting like emeralds. She’s stunning, lean, her designer boots clicking on the floor. “You’re making a scene.”

“India,” Roman growls, standing slowly. His eyes don’t leave me, though. “Not now.”

She scoffs, tossing her hair. “Really? Over a freshman?” Her gaze rakes over me, dismissive. “She’s nobody.”

My face heats, but I stand my ground. “I’m just here for the assignment,” I say, voice steady despite the weird energy in the room.

India laughs, cold. “Sure you are. Stay out of my way, Leera.” She says my name like it’s a curse, then turns to Roman. “We need to talk. Now.”

Roman’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t move. “Later,” he says, his voice final. India’s eyes narrow, and she stalks out, her boots echoing.

Zoey grabs my arm. “Okay, that was intense. Are you good?”

“I… don’t know,” I admit, my heart still pounding. Roman’s staring at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t solve. The tingling in my chest hasn’t stopped, and that scent of sugar and flowers lingers in the air.

“Leera,” Roman says, stepping closer. His voice is softer now, almost pleading. “We need to talk. Alone.”

“Alone?” I echo, glancing at Zoey. She nods, but her expression is wary.

“Trust me,” Roman says, and there’s something in his eyes pain, maybe hope that makes me want to. But India’s words echo: She’s nobody. And my own doubts creep in. I’m just a grieving kid with a camera. What could he possibly want with me?

“Okay,” I say finally, my voice barely a whisper. “But not here.”

He nods, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “Tonight. I’ll find you.”

As he turns away, the tingling in my chest flares, sharp and burning. I stumble, catching myself on the locker. Zoey’s at my side in an instant. “Leera, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I gasp, my vision blurring. The burning spreads, like something inside me is waking up. Roman freezes, his back to me, and I swear I hear a low growl. Not from him from *me*.

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Did you just… growl?”

I don’t answer. I can’t. Because as Roman glances back, his eyes glowing faintly, I know something’s changed. Something impossible. And I’m not sure I’m ready for what comes next.

Roman POV

My wolf snarls, clawing at the edges of my mind as I turn away from Leera. Her scent spun sugar and honeysuckles clung to me, a ghost of Imogen that shouldn’t exist. The locker room buzzes with my teammates’ chatter, but it’s all static against the roar in my chest. She growled. A human shouldn’t growl, not like that. My mismatched eyes burn, my vision sharpening as my wolf fights to break free. I need air. I need answers.

I shove past Benny, ignoring his raised eyebrow, and head for the exit. The hallway’s fluorescent lights hum, the concrete walls closing in. Leera’s scent lingers, pulling me back like a tether. My boots echo as I stride toward the arena’s side door, the cold Ohio night biting through my jacket. The moon hangs low, nearly full, its light slicing through the trees. It’s mocking me, the Moon Goddess’s gift turned curse. Imogen was my mate. My only mate. So why does Leera’s scent hit me like a blade?

“Roman, hold up!” Benny’s voice cuts through my thoughts. He jogs up, his athletic frame filling the doorway. His dark eyes narrow, scanning me. “What the hell was that back there? You dropped like a pup in front of that girl.”

“Not now,” I growl, my voice rougher than intended. I keep walking, the gravel crunching underfoot.

Benny grabs my arm. “Don’t pull that alpha crap with me. You smelled her, didn’t you? Like Imogen.”

I yank free, glaring. “Don’t say her name.”

He doesn’t flinch. “I’m your lieutenant, man. Talk to me. You collapsed, and she growled. That’s not normal for a human.”

“She’s not human,” I snap, then freeze. The words slip out before I can stop them. My wolf whines, certain of it, but my mind rebels. She can’t be a wolf. I’d have sensed it. Wouldn’t I?

Benny’s jaw tightens. “Are you sure about that? Because India’s already sniffing around, and she’s not happy.”

“India can go to hell,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. Her green eyes and sharp tongue flash in my mind, her engagement to me a chain I never wanted. “This isn’t about her.”

“It’s always about her,” Benny says, crossing his arms. “She’s got her claws in deep, Roman. If she thinks this girl’s a threat”

“She is,” I cut in, my voice low. “Leera’s my mate.”

Benny stares, his mouth opening, then closing. “That’s… impossible. The Moon Goddess doesn’t give second chances.”

“Tell that to my wolf,” I say, pacing. The forest looms beyond the parking lot, Shawnee State’s trees whispering secrets. My wolf begs to run, to hunt, to find Leera and claim her. But I can’t. Not yet. “I need to see Meredith. She’ll know.”

“The elder?” Benny frowns. “She’s half-crazed, Roman. Lives in a cabin with no electricity.”

“She’s the only one who understands mate bonds,” I say. “I’m going. Cover for me with the team.”

Benny sighs, rubbing his neck. “Fine. But if India comes sniffing, I’m not lying for you.”

“Fair,” I say, clapping his shoulder. “Keep an eye on Leera. Discreetly.”

He nods, but his eyes are troubled. “Be careful, man. Something’s off about this.”

I don’t answer, already moving toward my truck. The engine roars to life, and I peel out of the lot, the moon’s light guiding me toward the forest. My mind churns Leera’s silver hair, her icy eyes, the way her scent hit me like a memory. Imogen’s been gone for centuries, her death a wound that never healed. Yet Leera’s growl, her fear, her pull it’s real. My wolf knows it, even if I don’t.

The drive to Meredith’s cabin is short, the dirt road bumpy under my tires. Her place is a shadow among the pines, smoke curling from the chimney. I park and knock, my breath visible in the chilly air.

“Roman,” Meredith’s voice rasps before the door creaks open. She’s ancient, her white hair wild, her eyes sharp despite her age. “I felt your wolf from a mile away. What’s wrong?”

I step inside, the cabin smelling of herbs and woodsmoke. A single candle flickers on a cluttered table. “I found her,” I say, my voice tight. “A girl. Her scent… it’s Imogen’s. But she’s human. Or I thought she was.”

Meredith’s eyes narrow, and she gestures to a chair. “Sit. Tell me.”

I do, the words spilling out Leera’s interview, my collapse, her growl. Meredith listens, her fingers tracing a pendant shaped like a crescent moon. When I finish, she’s silent, her gaze distant.

“A second mate,” she says finally, her voice low. “Rare, but not impossible. The Moon Goddess doesn’t play tricks, Roman. If your wolf claims her, she’s yours.”

“But Imogen” I start, my chest tightening.

“Imogen’s gone,” Meredith cuts in, gentle but firm. “This girl, Leera, she's not a replacement. She’s something new. A wolf, you say?”

“She growled,” I confirm, leaning forward. “But she didn’t know. She looked… scared.”

Meredith nods, her fingers tapping the table. “Suppressed, maybe. Some wolves are hidden, their nature locked away by magic or medicine. Check her past. Her family.”

“Her parents are dead,” I say, remembering Leera’s necklace, the pain in her eyes. “Car accident.”

Meredith’s eyes sharpen. “Convenient. Dig deeper. And watch your fiancée. India’s ambition is a poison.”

I grimace. “I’m handling India.”

“Are you?” Meredith’s tone is skeptical. “She’s not one to let go, Roman. Not when the throne’s at stake.”

I stand, my wolf restless. “I need to see Leera. Tonight.”

Meredith grabs my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “Be sure, Roman. A second mate is a gift, but it comes with a price. Protect her.”

I nod, pulling free. “I will.”

Back in my truck, I check my phone. A text from Benny: *Leera’s at her dorm. Zoey’s with her. India’s circling.* My grip tightens. India’s always been a problem, her father’s schemes tying her to me since we were pups. But Leera she’s different. Fragile, yet fierce. I need to know her, to understand why the Moon Goddess chose her.

I drive to campus, the dorms lit up against the night. Leera’s building is quiet, the lobby empty except for a bored security guard. I slip past, following her scent to the third floor. It’s stronger here, intoxicating. My wolf whines, urging me closer. I knock on her door, my heart pounding.

Zoey opens it, her eyes narrowing. “Roman? It’s late.”

“I need to see Leera,” I say, keeping my voice calm.

“She’s freaked out,” Zoey snaps. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” I say, but guilt twists my gut. My reaction scared her. “Please. It’s important.”

Zoey hesitates, then steps aside. Leera’s on her bed, knees drawn up, her silver hair loose. She looks small, her icy eyes wide. That scent hits me again, and my wolf howls.

“Roman?” Her voice is soft, uncertain. “What’s happening to me?”

I step closer, ignoring Zoey’s glare. “You felt it, didn’t you? The growl. The pull.”

She nods, her fingers clutching her moonstone ring. “I thought I was losing it.”

“You’re not,” I say, kneeling to meet her gaze. “You’re… like me. A wolf.”

Her breath catches. “A what?”

Before I can explain, my phone buzzes. Benny again: *India’s at the rink. She knows about Leera. Move fast.* My blood runs cold. India’s jealousy is a blade, and Leera’s in its path.

“Leera,” I say, my voice urgent. “You’re not safe here. Come with me.”

She stares, fear and defiance warring in her eyes. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because,” I say, my wolf’s certainty bleeding through, “I’d die before I let anything happen to you.”

Her lips part, but before she can answer, the window shatters. Glass sprays across the room, and a dark figure moves in the shadows outside. Leera screams, and my wolf roars, ready to fight. Whoever’s out there, they’re here for her and I’ll tear them apart before they touch her.

Roman POV

Glass crunches under my boots as I lunge toward Leera, my wolf snarling, senses razor-sharp. The dorm room is a mess of moonlight and shadows, the shattered window letting in a cold gust. Leera’s scream echoes in my ears, her icy eyes wide with panic. Zoey’s frozen by the door, her mouth open. The figure outside moves fast too fast for humans darting into the darkness before I can get a clear look. My wolf howls, demanding blood, but I force it down. Leera’s safety comes first.

“Get behind me,” I growl, pulling Lira to her feet. Her small frame trembles, but she grips my arm, her moonstone ring glinting.

“What the hell was that?” Zoey snaps, her voice shaking as she edges toward us. “Roman, what’s going on?”

“No time,” I say, scanning the window. The scent of pine and something sharp wolfsbane lingers. My stomach twists. Only a wolf would use that, and only one with a grudge. India. “Leera, grab your jacket. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Leera’s voice is sharp, defiant despite her fear. “I don’t even know you!”

“You know enough,” I say, meeting her gaze. Her eyes spark, and that pull the mate bond hums between us, undeniable. “You felt it. The growl. You’re not safe here.”

She hesitates, then yanks her jacket from a chair. “Fine. But you’re explaining everything.”

“Deal,” I say, already moving toward the door. “Zoey, are you coming or staying?”

Zoey grabs her phone, her curls bouncing. “I’m not leaving her with you alone, hockey boy. Let’s go.”

I don’t argue. The hallway quiet, the fluorescent lights flickering. My phone buzzes Benny again: *Found India at the rink. She’s pissed. Something’s up.* I curse under my breath, leading Leera and Zoey down the stairs. The lobby’s empty, the security guard gone. Bad sign. My wolf’s on edge, every shadow a threat.

Outside, the campus is dark, the moon casting long shadows across the quad. My truck’s parked nearby, and I hustle them toward it, my senses straining for any sign of the intruder. Leera’s scent sugar and honeysuckles grounds me, but the wolfsbane stink lingers, faint but close.

“Roman, talk,” Leera demands as we reach the truck. She climbs into the passenger seat, Zoey sliding in the back. “What was that thing? And why do you keep saying I’m a wolf?”

I start the engine, the roar cutting through the night. “You’re a werewolf, Leera. Like me. That growl? It’s your wolf waking up.”

She laughs, sharp and nervous. “Werewolf? You’re insane. I’m just… me.”

“You’re not,” I say, pulling onto the road. The forest looms ahead, Shawnee State’s trees swallowing the moonlight. “Your scent, your growl it’s not human. Someone suppressed it. Maybe your parents.”

Her face pales, her fingers twisting her necklace. “My parents? They were photographers, not… monsters.”

“Not monsters,” I say softly, glancing at her. “Wolves. Like us. They might’ve hidden it to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” she snaps, her voice breaking. “From people throwing bricks through my window?”

“From worse,” I say, my grip tightening on the wheel. “Someone wants you gone, Leera. I think it’s India.”

“India?” Zoey leans forward, her voice skeptical. “Your fiancée? She’s a bitch, sure, but breaking windows?”

“She’s more than that,” I mutter, my jaw tight. “She’s a wolf, too. And she wants something I can’t give her.”

Leera’s eyes narrow. “What’s that?”

I hesitate, the weight of the truth heavy. “The throne. Our pack’s tied to the werewolf king. India’s father arranged our engagement to secure it. But you—you’re my mate. My true mate.”

Her breath catches, and Zoey whistles low. “Mate? Like, soulmate? This is some Twilight-level crap.”

“It’s real,” I say, my voice firm. “Leera, you felt it at the arena. The pull. It’s the Moon Goddess’s bond.”

Leera shakes her head, her silver hair catching the moonlight. “This is too much. I just wanted to pass my class.”

I want to reach for her, to ease the fear in her eyes, but a shadow moves in the rearview mirror. A vehicle black, sleek tails us, too close for coincidence. My wolf growls, claws itching. “Hold on,” I say, flooring the gas.

The truck lurches, tires squealing as I take a sharp turn onto a forest road. Leera grips the dashboard, her eyes wide. “Roman, what”

“We’re being followed,” I say, glancing back. The black car keeps pace, its headlights glaring. “Zoey, call Benny. Tell him we’re heading to the pack house. Now.”

Zoey fumbles her phone, dialing. “Benny? It’s Zoey. Roman’s with us, and some creep’s tailing us. Yeah, the pack house. Hurry.”

Leera’s staring at me, her voice low. “Pack house? Roman, where are you taking us?”

“Somewhere safe,” I say, weaving through the trees. The pack house is deep in Shawnee State Forest, hidden from human eyes. “My pack will protect you.”

“Your pack?” Her tone’s sharp, but there’s a tremor in it. “I don’t even know what I am!”

“You’re one of us,” I say, my wolf’s certainty bleeding through. “I’ll prove it.”

The car behind us speeds up, its engine roaring. I curse, pushing the truck harder. The road narrows, branches scraping the sides. Leera’s breathing fast, her hand brushing mine on the gearshift. The mate bond flares, warm and electric, and my wolf steadies. I’ll die before I let them touch her.

“Roman, they’re gaining!” Zoey yells, twisting to look back.

I glance at the side mirror two figures in the car, their faces shadowed. The scent of wolfsbane grows stronger, stinging my nose. “Leera, when we stop, run for the house. Don’t look back.”

“I’m not leaving Zoey,” she says, her voice fierce.

“I’ll handle Zoey,” I say, meeting Zoey’s eyes in the mirror. She nods, pale but determined.

The pack house comes into view, a sprawling log cabin lit by lanterns. Benny’s waiting outside, his athletic frame tense, Andrei and Slate at his side. I slam on the brakes, the truck skidding to a stop. “Go!” I shout, shoving the door open.

Leera and Zoey scramble out, sprinting for the house. The black car screeches to a halt behind us, and two figures leap out wolves, their eyes glowing in the dark. One’s tall, lean, with green eyes I know too well. India.

“Roman!” she calls, her voice dripping venom. “You can’t run from this!”

I step forward, my wolf snarling, ready to shift. “Stay away from her, India.”

She laughs, her boots crunching on the gravel. “She’s nothing. A mistake. You’re mine.”

“She’s my mate,” I growl, my voice shaking with rage. Leera’s scent is behind me, safe with Benny. I can feel her through the bond, her fear sharp but her strength growing.

India’s eyes flash, and the second figure Khas, the Vultures’ captain steps forward, his slicked-back hair gleaming. “You sure about that, Roman?” he says, his grey eyes cold. “Because she smells like family to me.”

My blood runs cold. Family? Lee's connection to Khas Imogen’s brother hits like a punch. Before I can respond, India lunges, a blade glinting in her hand. I dodge, my wolf taking over, but a sharp pain sears my side. Wolfsbane. My vision blurs, and Leera’s scream cuts through the night as I stumble, the world tilting. India’s laughter echoes, and Khan's voice is a low murmur, too faint to catch. The last thing I see is Leera running toward me, her silver hair glowing under the moon, before darkness swallows me whole.