Page 22 of Fated Wolf's Destiny

“Refreshing? How?”

“Usually he’s so in control—always thinking ahead, always strategizing—locked in a set orbit. But you seemed to have changed his trajectory, and I, for one, couldn’t be happier about it.”

I laugh despite myself, the tightness in my chest easing just a little. “You like being the annoying little brother.”

“I do, and I’m so good at it.”

I laugh again, but the moment is fleeting. The woods seem to shift, the air growing heavier as the shadows deepen. That familiar prickling sensation crawls along my spine—the feeling of being watched.

Lucas notices my change in posture, his easy demeanor fading as his gaze sharpens. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, scanning the tree line. “But something’s out there.”

He straightens, his casual attitude replaced by the quiet alertness of a predator. He sighs, muttering something under his breath, but he doesn’t say anything more. Together, we stare into the woods, the silence stretching taut between us. Whatever’s out there, it’s watching. Waiting.

RYDER

I watch from the tree line as Lucas leans casually against the porch railing of the clinic, talking to Bella. At first, her arms are crossed, her expression guarded, but gradually she relaxes and watches Lucas with a curiosity and interest that makes my wolf bristle. Lucas is good at this—too good. He’s saying something that makes her laugh, the sound soft and unexpected, and I have to fight the urge to step out of the shadows and tear my brother’s throat out.

She doesn’t know she’s my mate, but Lucas damn well does

Still, I can’t tear my gaze away as she talks, her movements animated, her dark hair catching the fading sunlight. There’s a fire in her, a determination that’s as frustrating as it is magnetic. She’s so human, so fragile, and yet she’s standing in the middle of a world she doesn’t even know exists, defying it without realizing it.

She disappears inside the clinic. Lucas lingers on the porch, glancing in my direction. He knows I’m here. Of course he does. His grin is faint, amused, as if to saySee? Not so hard.

I growl low in my chest but stay put. Lucas steps inside, leaving the porch empty, and the woods seem to close in around me.

Later that night, I patrol the edges of the clinic property, my steps silent against the soft earth. I know I should leave the protection of the place to my warriors as well as patrolling our borders. But I can’t bring myself to do it. Bella is my mate and mine to protect. Possibly the only one I would trust with her safety is Lucas, and I can’t bring myself to do that. I was raised to believe that the pack is the alpha’s highest priority. I now know it isn’t true. Nothing comes before protecting my mate.

The moonlight filters through the trees, casting everything in silver and shadow. The lights in the clinic are still on, and I catch a glimpse of Bella through the window, bent over her desk and scribbling in a notebook.

She moves to the window, gazing out at the dark woods, and I freeze, my breath catching. There’s a minute I wonder if she sees me, but her gaze sweeps past, distant and searching.

Her hand comes up to touch the glass, her expression flickering with something I can’t quite place. Longing? Frustration? Whatever it is, it hits me like a punch to the gut. She turns away, and the light goes off, leaving the clinic in darkness. I linger a moment longer, the woods pressing in around me, my wolf restless and agitated.

I should leave. I should let Lucas handle this. But as I step back into the shadows, the pull to be close to her doesn’t weaken or fade.

Whatever Bella’s looking for, whatever answers she’s chasing, she’s not going to stop. And as much as I want to protect the pack from her, there’s a part of me that’s just as desperate to protect her from everything else, including me.

CHAPTER 8

ISABELLA

All I can think about is getting those strong hands wrapped around me, pinning me to the ground. The she-wolf in me recognizes his alpha as both predator and mate and wants to make him chase her.

"Alpha?" My voice is husky, and it pulls his gaze up from where he's been steadily devouring me with his eyes. He braces himself, ready to go against every primal instinct in his body if I tell him to. He's ready to turn away from me. He’s so fucking noble.

"Mate?"

"Catch me if you can."

The wind tears through my fur as I push harder, my paws pounding against the ground. Branches whip past, some snapping against my sides, but I don’t slow. I can hear him behind me—closer than I want him to be. His growl echoes through the trees, low and commanding, a reminder that he is alpha and I will bend to his will.

I glance over my shoulder just long enough to catch a glimpse of his massive black form cutting through the underbrush, his eyes locked on me. He’s gaining. Damn it. Myshe-wolf snarls in protest, and I leap over a fallen log, landing with barely a sound before weaving between the trees.

Faster. Faster.

The scent of pine and earth fills my nose, but it’s his scent—smoky, wild, unmistakably Ryder—that makes my chest tighten. I dart left, hoping to lose him in the thick undergrowth. For a moment, I think I’ve done it—his footsteps fade—but then I hear it. A crack of branches, a burst of speed. He’s right there.

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