Page 2 of Fated Wolf's Destiny

Two Years Ago

The air smells wrong.

It’s too heavy, too sharp, like rot under the forest floor. My boots crunch against the gravel as I step off the truck, the weight of my duffel cutting into my shoulder. This is supposed to be home—the pack lands, the place I’ve bled for, fought for. But it doesn’t feel right.

The clearing outside the pack lodge is too quiet. No one comes out to greet me. The windows of the lodge glow faintly in the dusk, but instead of warmth, they cast an eerie light that sets my teeth on edge. My wolf stirs under my skin, uneasy.

“Welcome back, soldier,” a voice calls, cutting through the stillness.

I turn sharply to see him: Everett Rossiter, the current alpha of the Nightshade Pack. He leans against the porch railing, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his casual pose at odds with the dangerous gleam in his eyes. Everett’s always had that look about him—like he’s weighing the worth of everyone around him and finding them lacking.

“Everett,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Where is everyone?”

He shrugs, taking a long drag before flicking the cigarette into the dirt. “Busy,” he says, his tone dripping with indifference. “Things have changed since you left, Ryder.”

My jaw tightens. “I can see that.”

Everett steps down from the porch, his boots crunching against the gravel as he approaches me. The alpha scent rolls off him in waves—dominance, power, and something bitter underneath. “You’ve been gone a long time,” he says. “Out playing soldier while the rest of us kept things running here. Don’t expect a hero’s welcome.”

I drop my duffel to the ground, the weight of it kicking aside the pea-sized rocks. “I didn’t come back for a welcome,” I say, my voice low and steady. “I came back for the pack.”

Everett stops a few feet from me, his grin sharp and humorless. “The pack doesn’t need you. We’ve been doing just fine without your holier-than-thou bullshit.”

My wolf growls low in my chest, but I hold it back. “I’m sure they’ve been ‘doing fine.’” I let my gaze sweep past him, toward the lodge and the forest beyond. “The illegal logging operation must be keeping them busy.”

Everett’s grin falters, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. “Careful, Ryder,” he says, his voice dropping into a growl. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know enough.” My hands curl into fists at my sides. “I know you’ve been stripping old-growth trees from our land. Selling them overseas. I’ve seen the damage, Everett. You’re bleeding the territory dry.”

His growl deepens, and his wolf flashes in his eyes—bright, feral yellow. “I’m doing what needs to be done to keep this pack alive. You think your military training makes you better than me? You don’t have a clue what it takes to lead.”

“You’re killing us,” I snarl, stepping closer, the tension between us snapping like a live wire. “This pack doesn’t need a leader who sells out its future for a quick payday. It needs an alpha who puts the pack first.”

“And you think that’s you?” Everett snarls, stepping into my space.

I meet his gaze, my voice steady and cold. “I know it is.”

The challenge hangs in the air like a thunderclap. The pack laws are clear—an alpha who’s challenged must fight for the title. There’s no backing down now.

Everett’s grin is gone, replaced by a snarl that bares his teeth. “You just made the biggest and last mistake of your life.”

He shifts before the last word leaves his mouth, the air around him crackling with power. In seconds, his human form is gone, replaced by a massive grey wolf, his teeth gleaming and his eyes blazing with fury.

I let my own shift take me, the swirling maelstrom rising up around me, the storm of it tearing through my body in a flash of color and heat. When it’s done, I’m on all fours, my wolf towering over his, my fur dark as midnight. The pack will see this. They’ll feel it.

Everett charges first, his claws tearing into the ground as he barrels toward me. I meet him head-on, our bodies colliding with a bone-rattling force. Teeth sink into flesh. Claws rake against fur. It’s primal, savage, and raw, the kind of fight that strips away everything but instinct.

He’s fast, but I’m faster… and stronger.

I throw him off, sinking my teeth into his neck and snapping my head in the other direction, his blood sharp on my tongue. Everett hits the ground, quickly regains his feet and circles me, his growls rumbling like thunder, but I don’t give him a chance to recover. I lunge, slamming him to the ground, myclaws digging into his shoulders. He twists beneath me, his teeth snapping inches from my throat.

I growl low, the sound raw even in my wolf form.

He throws me off with a desperate surge of strength, and I stand back, giving him the time and space to withdraw and concede defeat, but he doesn’t take it. Snarling, he charges; I’m on him again in seconds, my teeth sinking into the scruff of his neck. He yelps, thrashing, but I hold firm. His movements slow, his strength fading, the light beginning to fade from his eyes.

And then, with one final snap of the neck, it’s over.

Everett’s body goes limp beneath me, his eyes glazing over as the light leaves his eyes. I step back, my chest heaving, his blood staining my fur. Everything around us is silent, the weight of the moment settling like a shroud.

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