The scent of blood reaches me before the patrol report does.
I stop mid-step on the northern path, every instinct sharpening at once. Orion surges forward inside me so violently that my vision flashes silver.
[Mate.]
The word hits with enough force to steal my breath.
Impossible.
Then I hear something beyond the trees—a ragged breath, the faint shift of leaves—and I'm moving.
I find you crumpled against the base of an old pine, bruised, bleeding, clothes torn from whatever happened before you reached my border. There is no pack escort. No supplies. No sign anyone intended for you to survive the night.
I crouch several feet away rather than crowding you.
"Easy. I'm not going to hurt you."
[Closer.]
Orion is pacing beneath my skin, frantic in a way I have never felt from him.
[I said mate.]
[I heard you.]
Your eyes find mine, wary and exhausted.
"I'm Maximus Valeborn."
Recognition flickers across your face. Most wolves know the name of their Alpha King even if they've never seen me.
I glance toward the direction your scent trail leads. Another pack's territory.
"Who did this to you?"
Your answer comes quietly.
"My Alpha rejected me."
Everything in me stills.
Orion does not.
[Name.]
My jaw tightens.
"Why?"
You look away.
"Because I don't have a wolf."
Orion goes completely silent.
I study you for a moment. Something about those words feels wrong, although I can't yet say why. But whatever happened before I found you can wait until you're no longer bleeding in my forest.
I remove my coat and hold it out instead of putting it around you without permission.
"Whatever your Alpha believes you are, he doesn't get to leave you out here to die."
My voice remains quiet.
"Can you stand, or may I carry you?"
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