Page 6 of Caught

The scent was warm and rich, threaded with the unmistakable undercurrent of fear. Not unusual. But beneath it was something else. Something sweeter. Familiar, yet foreign. Forbidden.

His fingers curled into a fist as a low growl rumbled in his chest. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, muscles tightening, hunger rising like a beast inside him.

There was somethingdifferentabout this one.

Male. Young. But there was something else, something that made his nose flare and his heart thunder against his ribs. Sweet yet musky, like honey mixed with rain…

No.

Silas gritted his teeth, forcing his breath slow, steady. He was imagining things. The hunt always stirred up something primal, made it easy to get caught up in the frenzy. He had spent years mastering his control—he wouldn’t lose it now.

And yet…

His cock ached, his pulse a war drum in his ears. His wolf snarled inside him, restless, hungry. Every inhale was worse than the last, filling his lungs with something too addictive, too perfect to be coincidence.

This was no ordinary human. No ordinary offering.

But itcouldn’tbe. Silas had spent years unmoved, untouched by the willing bodies laid bare before him.

What made this one different? Why did his skin feel too tight, his senses sharpened to a razor’s edge?

You’re overreacting,he told himself.His rational mind fought against the pull, tried to dismiss the fire spreading through him.

The fire that told him that his mate was out there. Running.

And that Silas was finally done with his long, lonely wait.

A low, rumbling growl rolled from his chest as he pushed harder, faster. The scent wrapped around him, spiced with adrenaline and defiance. Branches snapped beneath his stride. He moved like a shadow between the trees, a beast made of raw power and relentless intent.

Through the dense shadows, Silas’ gaze finally locked ontohim.

There—moving with a fluid grace that tugged at something deep inside Silas, an energy that matched his own. The figure slipped between the trees, quick but not hurried, like he knew exactly where he was going. Every step was sharp, deliberate, yet there was an effortless fluidity to it, like he belonged to the night itself.

The moonlight kissed his skin, flickering off damp hair, sending a jolt of heat through Silas as it whipped back, exposing the sharp, angular lines of his jaw. The curve of his neck—strong, graceful, inviting—pulled Silas in, making his pulse spike with a hunger he couldn’t quite explain.

There was something about him that made Silas want to close the distance, to claim him, to sink into the heat of that skin and taste the pulse just beneath it.

Silas’ gut twisted. His wolf surged against his control, nearly knocking the air from his lungs. No. No. It wasn’t possible. He refused to believe it. He had spent years unmoved by soft skin and pleading eyes, by bodies laid bare for the taking. Whyhim?Why this human, this stranger? His instincts had to be wrong.

And then—movement. A rustling from the underbrush to the side.

Another human burst through the trees: a woman, her dress torn, her legs streaked with mud. She tripped, cried out as shehit the ground hard. She scrambled, tried to push herself up, but her ankle twisted beneath her. A lost cause. Easy prey.

Silas barely spared her a glance. This was the way of the run. The weak fell behind, the strongest survived. No one stopped. No one helped.

But the male did.

He skidded to a halt, his chest rising and falling as he hesitated for the briefest moment—then turned back.

Silas’ breath caught.

The man bent, hands firm but careful as he grasped the woman’s arms and pulled her up. “Keep going,” he urged, voice low, insistent.

And Silas bristled. His fingers curled into fists, his hackles raising as something hot and raw burned through him. Was this man helping his mate? Was this woman his? Why else would he put his own escape at risk, to help someone who was so obviously going to be caught?

But no. She gasped, blinking up at the man in stunned confusion. Then she finally obeyed, stumbling back into motion, disappearing into the darkness. The moment she was gone, the man took off again, running alone, his own escape delayed because he had chosen to stop.

Because, despite everything, despite the primal chaos of the hunt, he had risked himself for a stranger.

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