The scent of old wood and stone hits me first, and with it, snow and cedar. It clings to everything. My wrists burn, chafed from rope, and I realize my hands are tied behind my back and I'm laying on the ground. Barefoot. Whining inside my chest, my wolf pulls me from my foggy thoughts, from the heavy lethargy in my blood. I push myself into a swaying, kneeling position. Across from me, sits Kade, silent. Watching.

As far as I can tell, we're in a single room cabin that looks like it's held together by sheer stubbornness. A single door on crooked hinges. Wind pours in from the slats, the broken window. The furniture is bug-eaten or broken. The hearth is full of cold ashes.

Kade's eyes are darker now. Amber, instead of the inhuman pallor from the county office, from what I remember last month. He tilts his head, studying me like I'm some sort of creature he'd like to dissect. A puzzle he hasn't quite solved. "It's not personal," he says after a heavy silence. His voice is deeper, rougher, than it was in town. "I hunt your kind. Abominations."

The hum of panic in my blood wars with whatever sedative Nora smeared across my skin. I swallow against the dryness in my throat. "You mean hidden wolves."

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Half-breeds." His voice lowers. "You make us forget what we are. You make us tame."

I flinch as he stands. He moves like a predator, slow and fluid and certain. His posture, the unhurried movement, screams of a complete confidence, perfect control. Beau—thinking of him makes my heart ache—said the full moon forced the shift, but Kade still comfortably wears human skin. From behind him, I can see the twilight sky. Moonless, for now. I try to calculate how much time before the moonrise, before this dangerous man turns into something much more deadly. An hour? Maybe two?

"So you just kill people?" I ask hoarsely, scrambling to keep him talking. My fingers test the knot, the edge of the rope. My feet are not tied. I think I can run, maybe. If I can get free. As my brain sorts through options for escape, my mouth keeps moving. "I didn't even know what I was."

Kade makes a low sound of agreement. "Most don't. But a true wolf knows the scent of corrupted blood," he says. "Even if these southerners have forgotten."

He crouches in front of me, not close enough to touch, but close enough to intimidate. I can see the scar near his lip, the turbulence in his amber eyes. His size, the coiled power of him, reminds me of Beau, but there's no gentleness here. No warmth.

"A true wolf would've known the smell of it immediately," he says. "I did."

I try to inch away. "You were following me."

He doesn't deny it. Kade glances at the window, as if also tracking the shift of light across the evening sky.

"The coffee shop. The woods. The restaurant," I say, trying to force the pieces together.

Kade nods. "Longer than that," he murmurs. "I've been watching you for a long time."

"Why?" It bursts out of me, breathless and sick. The idea of him stalking me—this hunter with blood-stained hands—makes my pulse scream. My eyes flick to the door, to the window, to any route of escape. But his bulky presence takes up the entire room.

He doesn't answer at first. The amber in his eyes is unreadable, he gently brushes my hair behind my ear. His fingers are rough where they graze my skin. Calloused and steady, like he's done this before. It's not intimate, not really. It feels like he's inspecting me. Like he plays with his prey.

"Curiosity," he says softly, almost reluctantly, as if he's admitting a dark and ugly secret.

I fight to remain calm, to think. He's already taken me to a second location. No one knows where I am. I don't see my purse or my phone or any lifeline I can grasp at. I swallow down the rising current of panic humming in my veins. My wrists ache, but I keep pulling at the rope. I refuse to cry. I will not beg. Not yet, at least.

My wolf twists in my chest, growling. Though her feelings and intent are wordless. She wants to run. Wants to call for her mate.

I reach for the bond blindly, desperately, searching for something more than the hollow and silent emptiness where warmth used to be. The last time I howled, he came. He heard me. The pack heard me.

I close my eyes and tug hard on the frayed tether. Willing the bond to flicker, to hum. My wolf howls from behind my ribs, still locked within my chest.

Nothing.

My heart aches around the silence.

I try again, coaxing my wolf, begging her to howl, to claw her way free. Her mournful cry, it seems, goes unheard. Kade hasn't flinched, hasn't even twitched. A cold shiver races across my skin. There's not flare of the bond. No answer.

I'm on my own.

"So what," I growl. The growing hysteria, my desperation, sparks a dangerous and reckless adrenaline in my blood. "You sate your curiosity and then murder a tied-up woman?"

He doesn't answer.

"Then just finish it."

Still nothing.

The fury that builds in me is sharp and clean. I grind my teeth.

"Some big bad alpha you are," I sneer. The words are reckless and stupid, but they taste good. That scrappy, bleeding heart optimist that still lives inside of me refuses to go down without a fight.

Kade's eyes narrow. His nostrils flare. There's a subtle shift in his posture, a hint of ozone in the air, like the wolf inside of him is annoyed. For some reason, all I can think about it Beau. Beau talking about the stubbornness and pride of dominant wolves. Beau teaching the volatile younger wolves. Beau drawing Caleb into an error.

I force a smile, brittle and wild and unkind. "I thought the northern wolves were supposed to be fierce. True wolves."

Still no words, but the silence has teeth now.

"But you need a beta wolf to catch your prey," I breathe. "For all my supposed inferiority and weakness, you need me sedated. Tied up."

There's a shudder in the air around Kade. The scent of cedar and snow and ozone grows stronger. I can see it. The tension radiating around him isn't rage. It's restraint. Caged instinct.

A predator needs the chase.

A wolf lost to instinct is easily tricked.

"You don't want to kill me like this," I say, voice low. I stand, hands still behind my back. "Not tied up. That's not your style."

Kade shifts his weight, considering me. The muscles in his jaw tick, like he's trying not to agree with me. His gaze darts to the window, to the last glow of sunset bleeding behind the trees.

And then he moves. So swiftly I don't even have time to flinch.

His hand is in my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to bear my neck. Hands tied behind me, I'm unbalanced. I stumble into him, bracing for the feel of teeth, for pain. I pushed too hard. He's going to kill me. My wolf thrashes within me.

Kade's face is inches from mine, his scent sharp, his eyes pure and glowing amber.

"You better hope I catch you before moonrise," he says, voice low, quiet enough to be mistaken for mercy.

My pulse drowns out my thoughts.

He lets go.

I crash backwards, catching myself on the edge of the table before I hit the floor. Kade is already moving, already turning his back, like I've bored him. As if none of this matters.

My fingers work fast, faster than I knew they could. Whatever surge of wild panic had hit be before—it's nothing compared to this. My wolf is howling again, full of fear and challenge and desperate hope. The knot slips, but my hands are numb, fumbling. I wedge the rope against a jagged edge of the hearth and pull. Hard. Skin tears, but I don't stop.

Kade is silent. His back still turned.

The rope gives.

I run.

Out the door. Into the dusk.

Branches claw at my arms as I barrel into the trees, heart pounding in my throat. The forest is dense here, knotted with roots and brambles, but I don't slow down. I can't.

I need distance. Elevation. Time.

I need a plan.

A wolf lost to instinct is easily defeated.

Somewhere behind me a howl rises.