Willow's Choice

Willow's POV

The forest felt ancient. Mist curled around the roots of towering trees, drifting across the ground like silver smoke. Their massive trunks disappeared into darkness above, the canopy so thick that moonlight could barely penetrate. I stood alone among them—or at least I thought I was alone. Then a low howl echoed through the forest. Not threatening, but calling. My heart leapt. Somehow I knew it was meant for me.

The sound came again, deeper this time, carrying through the mist like a promise. I followed it. My bare feet moved silently across the damp earth as the forest guided me forward. Branches parted, the fog thinned, and there he was: a wolf.

Larger than any wolf I’d ever seen. His coat shimmered silver beneath the moonlight, almost glowing against the darkness. Brilliant blue eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that rooted me to the spot. He wasn’t afraid. Neither was I.

The wolf approached slowly. One step, then another, until he stood directly before me. A soft whine escaped him before he lowered his massive head and nudged his nose against my shoulder. Something deep inside me stirred in response.

The wolf closed his eyes briefly, a shudder running through his frame. Light rippled across his body as the silver fur dissolved like smoke. His form elongated and shifted until a man stood before me, rising from the transformation with predatory grace. He was tall, powerfully built, his shoulders broad and tapering to a lean waist.

Though I couldn’t see his face clearly through the swirling mist, my breath caught. He stepped closer, silent and fluid, then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against the warmth of his body. Heat radiated from his skin, chasing away the chill of the night. I felt the solid wall of his chest against mine, the steady thrum of his heartbeat echoing through us both.

His hand settled against the back of my neck as he lowered his head. “Mine.” The whisper sent a shiver through me, settling deep inside my chest—as if this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

The forest around us seemed to disappear, fading into swirling mist. His breath warmed my temple before his lips found the sensitive place just below my ear. A jolt shot through me. He brushed his lips against the pulse in my neck—a feather-light touch that was somehow more intimate than any forceful claim.

Then his lips traced a slow path down my throat. Each press of his mouth was a brand, a silent promise. He nipped gently at my collarbone, and a sudden rush of warmth spread through me like wildfire. A gasp escaped my lips. My knees buckled, and the rough bark of the tree met my back.

He followed, pressing against me. There was no mistaking the rigid heat of him through the thin barrier of our clothes. One of his thighs slid between mine, and the friction was so sudden that a desperate moan tore from my throat. He ground against me in a slow rhythm that sent sparks dancing behind my eyelids. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him.

Everything went dark. I bolted upright in bed, my chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath. Morning sunlight streamed through my bedroom window. Just a dream. Except everything inside me screamed that it meant more. My hand lifted to my neck unconsciously. The memory of the stranger’s voice still echoed in my mind. Mine. A strange sensation rippled beneath my skin, and my heart began to race. Today was my eighteenth birthday. Today my wolf would emerge, and somewhere out there, my mate was waiting.