Page 103 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

This is what it feels like to be a wolf.

The fence looms ahead, the gap concealed by brush, and I surge forward. My movements are smooth, instinctive, as though I’ve always had this form. My body responds effortlessly, each stride carrying me closer to freedom. The scents of the forest fill my nose—earth, grass, and the faint, lingering trace of the pack. My pack.

Reaching the fence, I drop low to the ground, my new form sliding easily through the hole in the chain link. My fur brushes against the metal, and I pause for a moment, ears pricked for any sound behind me. Nothing. Patrick isn’t coming. Not this time.

Once on the other side, I stop and glance back at Homestead. The sight of it fills me with a strange mix of sadness and triumph. I’ve left so much behind here—my sister, my past—but I’ve gained something so much greater. My freedom. My future.

I turn my head toward the forest, where I know Reyes and the others are waiting. Without hesitation, I throw my head back and let out a long, low howl. It’s a sound I didn’t know I could make, but it feels right—like a signal, a promise.

I’m coming home.

36

REYES

The night seems to hold its breath when it happens.

At first, I don’t know what it is. It’s like a ripple through the air, something primal and electric that sets every nerve in my body on edge. I freeze in a forest clearing, closing my eyes and tilting my head, focusing all my senses. The sounds of the forest come alive around me: the hoot of an owl, the relentless drone of cicadas, a cricket chirping in the underbrush. Somewhere close, a small creature scurries away, its instincts screaming predator.

But that’s not what I’m listening for.

I sift through the sounds, the smells, the vibrations in the air, searching for something I can’t yet name. It’s faint, almost imperceptible, but it’s there—a presence, a flicker of something wild and new.

And then I feel it.

Joy. Pure and unfiltered, wild and radiant, like moonlight breaking through the Celestial Curtain. Hope, fierce and unrelenting, surges through me, and I know. She’s free.

I open my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest, and the wolves around me sense the shift. They fall into a loose circle, waiting for my command. Grant and Frankie are at either shoulder, their hackles slightly raised as they watch me. Mateo lingers behind us, his ears swiveling toward every sound. Peaches stays near the rear with Charlotte and Elijah, the three of them poised and ready, their movements cautious but steady.

I send out the command, sharp and clear.Go home.

I feel their hesitation ripple through the pack bond. They don’t understand what’s happening. They don’t know what I know, can’t feel what I feel. Tilda’s joy and determination radiate through the bond, unmistakable and vivid, like sunlight piercing through a storm. She’s close—so close. She’s hit the edge of the woods, moving fast, desperate to escape.

I have to reach her.

Go!I command again, more insistent this time.

The wolves hesitate for only a moment longer before they obey, one by one melting into the shadows. Even Frankie, who lingers at my shoulder like she’s considering ignoring me, finally growls softly and turns away. I watch her vanish into the trees, her white fur blending with the moonlit forest.

The clearing falls silent again, save for the sounds of the night. The air is charged with tension, every instinct screaming at me to run, to find her, to make sure she’s safe. If this is a mistake, if she’s not free or if something’s gone wrong, I’ll never forgive myself.

But I trust the bond.

I lower my head, sniffing the air, and there it is—her scent. It’s different now, wilder, tinged with something new. Something wolf. It calls to me like nothing else ever has, pulling me forward with a force I can’t resist.

She’s free.

She’s coming.

And I’m going to meet her.

I race toward where I sense Tilda, faster than I’ve ever run in my life. My heart is in my throat, my lungs pumping air to the rest of my body. I feel stronger already, like she’s already having an effect on me.

I need her. I need my mate.

The edge of the Celestial Curtain looms ahead, painting the forest in red. My rut surges when I feel her cross it somewhere to the west. I follow her trail, honing in on her like a sixth sense.

I scent her, then—on the tall grasses at the edge of the forest, blackberries and leather dripping from the leaves of live oaks and willows. Her scent is heady and intoxicating, drowning me in delirious desire.

---