Prologue
*Jonas*
I slow my pace from a swift run to a cautious walk as I enter a part of the woods that’s ominously quiet, even for my wolf companion Cana’s ears. My chest tightens with fear as I shift back to my human form, taking in the scent of pine, earth, and the nearby river, along with something else that’s feral and dangerous.
I retrieve my backpack, which Cana carried in his mouth, and pull out a set of clothes - sweatpants and a t-shirt. I don’t particularly fancy the idea of facing what lies ahead of me in the nude, but this is far from a social gathering.
‘No,’ Cana’s voice echoes in my head. ‘We’re walking into certain death.’
I shake my head and mutter, “No, we’re going to save Kara and the other girls.”
Cana lets out a resounding sigh, and I can almost feel the warmth of his breath against my brain. ‘Sure, like Typhon Bloodclaw, the king of rogues, will willingly give you his war prisoners - young women who have probably already…’
“Enough, Cana.” I cut him off. “I have to try to save them. It’s my responsibility.”
‘As I said,’ Cana snaps back. ‘Certain death, but first, agony. I’ve heard he…’
I feel the sudden urge to smack my head to quiet him. “Shush. Let me focus.”
With my backpack secure on my back again, I make my way up the rugged incline and freeze as I approach the entrance, where two men that resemble each other unnervingly give me the once-over. “What do you want?” they demand in unison.
“I’m here to see the king,” I declare, a glimmer of authority in my voice as I straighten my back, trying to look taller despite my 5’6 height.
“And who says the king wants to see you, pretty boy?” One of the guards sneers, grinning at his fellow.
Breathing deeply, I hold the man’s gaze. “I’m Jonas Whitepaw, alpha of the Coral Lake pack. I believe he’ll want to see me.”
The guards run their eyes over me in a way that sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine. I’m not one to be the object of such scrutiny, but I refuse to let them see my discomfort.
“What do you say, Donahue? Ever seen an alpha this pretty and small?” one of them says, talking to the other.
“I sure haven’t, Donovan,” the other replies, grinning slyly. “Bloodclaw will definitely like him.”
I swallow my pride, knowing I’m not the tallest or most physically imposing alpha. It’s not the first time I’ve heard such comments. “So, does that mean I can go inside?” I ask, trying to maintain some sense of control in the situation.
Donahue bows mockingly. “You may enter.”
“But be careful of the wolves. Some of them eat pretty boys like you for breakfast,” Donovan chimes in with a hideous grin.
‘Did you hear them?’ Cana interjects in my head. ‘They want to eat us for breakfast.’
With a determined stride, I make my way through the entrance, trusting my instincts to guide me through the unfamiliar territory. If I were a king, I muse, snorting at the thought. But if I were a rogue with a misguided sense of grandeur, where would I be?
Occasionally, I pass by other rogues who glance at me warily, but I pay them no heed. They’re an eccentric bunch, to say the least.
Suddenly, a scent seeps through the air and tickles my nostrils. It’s an enticing aroma that’s difficult to put into words… wild, warm, woodsy, with a spicy undertone. Instinctively, I follow it, drawn to its tantalizing allure. Cana shuts up with his dark thoughts, and I feel grateful for a moment of respite.
As I turn a corner, I enter a large, open room and stop short. Seated on an ostentatious throne is a tall, muscular man. One of the young women I came to rescue is lying at his feet, looking unharmed, and for a fleeting second, almost happy. I finally understand why they call him a ‘king.’
“Don’t be shy, little Alpha. Come in,” he booms in a deep, warm voice, similar to an aged cognac. “You’re brave to come here alone.”
“I’m here to negotiate,” I state firmly, slowly advancing towards him while straightening my posture and holding my head high. His eyes gleam with amusement.
He leans down to pet the girl’s hair gently. “Negotiate,” he repeats. “Please go on. What do you offer in return?”
Gathering my resolve, I speak, keeping my words respectful, yet letting my alpha tone show through to make my intentions clear. After all, I’m on his territory.
He strokes his chin thoughtfully and looks at the girl, as if measuring her worth. Suddenly, a sly smile spreads across his full lips. “I’ll give you the women,” he says.
I’m taken aback, my surprise evident on my face. “You will?” I ask incredulously.
“On one condition, of course,” he adds.
‘Be careful,’ Cana warns me from within.
Taking a deep breath, I reply, “Of course. If it’s within my power, I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“You!” he exclaims, and I feel the air leave my lungs.
I feel my heart lodging in my throat as his smirk broadens. A silent promise of trouble. “What?” I repeat, trying to wrap my head around his proposition.
He chuckles, the sound low and silky. “I’ll release the hostages if you take their place,” he repeats, and my sense of dread cracks open like a fresh wound.
