Page 5 of Shifting Hearts 1
Maddox thrived. He was everything the pack wanted, charming, ruthless, and politically inclined. I was quieter. Wilder. I didn’t care for politics or councils. I wanted the forest. I only ever wanted freedom.
When the time came for the Trial, the fight to decide who would succeed, I fought like hell. But I lost. And losing didn’t just mean stepping aside. It meant exile. It meant surrender. So, I walked away, happily, if I’m being honest.
I traded the pack for the trees, the noise for silence. I told myself I didn’t need them. That I didn’t need anyone. And I didn’t. Not until now.
Because now, I have her. And I don’t know if that’s salvation, or my damnation.
She sleeps for two more days before her stormy eyes open once more. But I don’t. I can’t. All I can do is relive the past and crave a woman too broken to want anything. It doesn’t help that my back hurts from sleeping on the damn floor.
The fire burns low in the stove, casting flickering shadows across the cabin walls as she shifts restlessly in my bed, her breath shallow but steady. I sit in the chair beside her again, my elbows on my knees, my hands clenched so tight my knuckles ache.
The bond hums between us, a steady drum I can’t silence. Every breath she takes pulls at me, every faint sound out of her lips twists my gut. I should be out in the woods, hunting, patrolling, being anywhere but here.
But I can’t leave her.
Not yet. Not when she looks like death tried to claim her and failed. Another shift and the blanket slips lower, exposing a perfect breast to my gaze. Tipped with a rosy pink nipple, I can help but lick my lips. I may not have wanted a mate of my own but that hasn’t stopped the unfiltered lust from coursing through my system.
My cock has been erect since I shifted back to human form, perpetually leaking precum. I rub my palm against the painful length, a small growl breaking free.
My hands itch to touch her, but I hold back. I’m not a fucking monster. Instead, I reach over and cover her with the blanket once more.
I drag a hand down my face, the old bitterness crawling back up my throat like bile. I never wanted this. Not a bond. Not a mate. Not fate’s leash around my neck.
And yet here she is. Here I am.
The fire cracks, and another memory rises like smoke.
The ring is mud and blood and teeth.
I can feel the wet earth under my bare feet, the roar of the pack ringing in my ears, the scent of adrenaline and excitement thick in the air. My fists are raw, and my ribs already bruised. Maddox circles me like a wolf with a grin sharp enough to cut.
We were brothers, once. Born just a year apart under the same Blood Moon, cursed with the same prophecy…. Born to be rivals. One destined to lead, one destined to fall.
Our father, Alpha Rourke, made sure of it. He fed us competition instead of love. He taught us to fight before we learned to speak. Every hunt, every lesson, every breath was a battle to prove who was stronger. Who deserved his love.
And Maddox always won.
Until tonight night, I thought maybe fate would give me one chance.
The Trial of Succession. Combat. Strategy. Leadership. A fight for the right to lead Stygian into the next age. The pack surrounded the pit, their voices a violent storm. Some scream my name. Most scream his.
Maddox move like a predator, calculated and sure, his eyes alight with the thrill of it. I move like chaos wrapped in skin, desperate and wild. My fists connect with his jaw, his gut, and his ribs. For a moment, he staggers. For a moment, I think…. I can win this.
Then he smiles and I know I’ve already lost. He breaks me.
His fist slams into my chest, cracking bone. His claws rake across my side, blood spraying into the dirt and the crowd. He throws me down into the mud, his knee pinning my throat. My vision blurs, the world narrowing to the weight crushing me, the laughter of the pack, and the eternal fucking disappointment in my father’s eyes.
“Yield,” Maddox snarls, his breath hot against my face.
I should fight. I should have claw, and bite, and scream. But I see it, the truth. Even if I beat him bloody, even if I broke every bone in his body, the pack would never follow me.
They don’t want me. They want him. So, I let my hands fall. I let the mud take me.
“I yield.” The words taste like ash.
The crowd erupts, half in triumph, half in disappointment. Maddox throws his arms up, victorious, their golden son, their perfect Alpha-to-be.
And me?
