Love Me My Alpha

The air in the Blackwood Forest did not merely feel cold; it felt heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth, crushed pine needles, and the unmistakable, metallic tang of fear. Amaris pressed her back against the rough, moss-covered bark of an ancient oak tree, holding her breath until her lungs burned. Her fingers tightly gripped the hilt of her silver-etched hunting dagger.

The cool metal was a grounding contrast to the white-hot adrenaline rushing through her veins, a stark reminder of who she was and the legacy she carried.

"Never trust a shapeshifter, Amaris," her father’s voice echoed in her mind, a stern, unyielding mantra drilled into her since she was old enough to hold a blade. "They are apex predators clad in human skin. They don't feel love, they don't know mercy, and they will tear your world apart the moment you lower your guard. To them, we are either a threat to be neutralized or prey to be hunted."

For twenty-two years, Amaris had lived her life by that single, golden rule. As the daughter of the region's most legendary hunter, her upbringing had been entirely defined by survival. While other girls learned to sew and dance, she had spent her youth studying tracking patterns, learning the precise anatomy of wolves, and mapping out the heavily guarded borders of the neighboring packs. Her father had trained her to be a ghost in the woods, a silent shadow that left no footprint. But tonight, every rule she had ever mastered had shattered into pieces.

An unexpected, brutal ambush on the outer perimeter of her family's territory had caught her hunting party completely off guard. The frantic, chaotic sounds of clashing steel, the guttural, monstrous snarls of beasts, and the terrifying, definitive crack of bone had driven her deep into the wilderness. In the blind panic of retreat, she had been separated from her squad. She had run blindly through the dark, crossing the one line she knew she must never breach. She was now deep within the forbidden heart of the Blackwood—territory belonging exclusively to the notoriously ruthless Midnight Pack.

A twig snapped sharply to her left.Amaris froze instantly, her muscles locking into place. She scanned the dense, moonlit fog that rolled across the forest floor like a living shroud. Through the tangled, skeletal branches of the ancient trees, she caught the unmistakable, predatory gleam of amber eyes. The shadows around her seemed to elongate and bend, shifting effortlessly from massive, four-legged beasts into towering, heavily muscled human silhouettes.She was completely surrounded.

"Well, well. Look what stumbled into our playground," a low, mocking voice rasped from the gloom ahead. A tall, heavily scarred shifter stepped forward into a patch of pale moonlight, a cruel, arrogant smirk playing on his lips.

"A hunter's brat. Far from home, aren't you, little bird?"Amaris did not answer. She refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her voice tremble. Instead, she slowly shifted her weight, quietly calculating her odds. Five of them. All larger, faster, and infinitely stronger than any human. Fighting them all was a statistical suicide mission, but surrendering to a shifter pack was a fate far worse than death.

Before the scarred shifter could lunge, Amaris sprang into action with blinding speed. She sliced her silver dagger through the air, cutting him cleanly across the forearm. The silver blade hissed violently against his supernatural flesh, burning him instantly. He roared out in pure agony, dropping to one knee as the silver poison began to move through his system, blistering his skin.

"Kill her!" he bellowed, clutching his smoking arm. "Tear her to pieces!"The remaining four shifters charged all at once. Amaris ducked under a heavy, swinging fist from the largest rogue, sliding under his arm and slicing the back of his thigh. She spun on her heel, using her momentum to drive her elbow into the throat of a third attacker. But her luck ran out instantly.

A brutal, crushing kick to her ribs from behind sent her flying backward through the air.She crashed hard into the dirt, the impact knocking the wind completely from her lungs. Her vision blurred, spots dancing across her eyes as her precious silver dagger clattered out of her hand, sliding across the damp leaves just out of reach.Gasping frantically for air, she tried to crawl toward her weapon, but a heavy leather boot slammed down violently onto her wrist, pinning her arm to the forest floor.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as the pressure threatened to snap her bones."Let's see how much you bleed, hunter," the shifter above her snarled, baring elongated, razor-sharp fangs as he lunged down toward her exposed throat, eager for blood.Amaris braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited for the final, fatal blow.“Stand down.” The voice did not just echo through the forest; it vibrated through the earth beneath them, a physical wave of absolute power. It was a dark, commanding baritone laced with a terrifying, ancient authority that demanded immediate obedience.

Instantly, the suffocating pressure on Amaris’s wrist vanished. The shifter who had been seconds away from tearing her throat out scrambled backward into the dirt, whimpering softly like a scolded pup. The entire forest seemed to fall dead silent. The wind stopped howling, the crickets ceased their chirping, and the very air grew heavy with reverence.

Amaris pushed herself up onto her elbows, her heart hammering violently against her ribs. She wiped a smear of dirt and blood from her cheek, her eyes widening as she looked through the parting fog.

Through the mist stepped a man who commanded the space around him without saying a word. He was exceptionally tall, broad-shouldered, and exuded an aura of raw, unadulterated power that made the other shifters look like mere children. He wore a heavy black leather jacket over dark clothes, his jet-black hair slightly disheveled. His face was a masterpiece of cold, aristocratic cruelty—brutally handsome, with a sharp, unforgiving jawline and a faint, silver scar cutting across his left cheekbone.But it was his eyes that locked Amaris completely in place. They weren't the standard amber of common shifters. They were a piercing, glowing silver, staring down at her with a terrifying, calculating intensity.Killian. The Alpha of the Midnight Pack.

"Alpha," the scarred shifter stammered, keeping his head bowed low to the ground, refusing to make direct eye contact. "She’s a hunter. She crossed the border into our lands. She attacked us without provocation—"

"I see what she did, Brandon," Killian interrupted, his voice deceptively calm, yet dripping with an icy menace that promised violence to anyone who dared speak out of turn. He did not look at his men. His silver eyes remained entirely fixed on Amaris, tracking the frantic, shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Killian walked forward with the slow, graceful, and deadly stride of an apex predator that knew nothing in this world could challenge him. He stopped just inches away from where she lay, looking down at her as if she were an interesting insect. His gaze drifted down to notice the bow and quiver securely strapped to her back, and then his eyes landed on the silver dagger lying in the dirt.With a slow, deliberate movement, Killian reached down and picked up the weapon. Amaris held her breath, expecting him to burn himself, but he did not flinch as the silver touched his bare skin. Instead, he casually twirled the deadly blade between his fingers, testing its balance before looking back down at her.

"A legendary hunter's daughter," Killian murmured, a faint, dark smile touching his lips, though it did not reach his cold eyes. "Amaris, isn't it?" Amaris swallowed the lump of fear in her throat, refusing to show her terror to the monster standing before her. She forced her chin up, glaring back at him with all the defiance she could muster.

"Just kill me and get it over with, shifter. I won't beg for my life." Killian's eyes flashed with sudden amusement, a dangerous, predatory spark igniting in their silver depths. He leaned down, his face closing the distance between them until she could smell the scent of cedarwood, winter air, and something entirely primal on his skin.

"Kill you?" Killian whispered, his voice sending an involuntary, electric shiver straight down her spine, defying every survival instinct she possessed. He reached out, his cool fingers gently trailing down her jawline, gripping her chin firmly to force her to keep looking up at him.

"No, Amaris. A prize like you doesn't get executed so easily." He stood back up to his full height, casually tucking her silver dagger into his own belt."Take her to the estate," Killian commanded his men, turning his back to her without another thought. "Lock her securely in the eastern tower. From this moment on, your life belongs entirely to me, pretty hunter. And I am not a generous master."