



Chapter Two: Forbidden Scent
Axel
"Another dead night," Jace complained, revving his motorcycle beside mine. "Three hours of nothing but trees and darkness."
I grunted, scanning the border road that wrapped around Ravenridge like a noose. The moon hung fat and bright overhead, three days from full. I could feel it pulling at my blood, making my skin itch with the need to shift.
"You'd rather have bloodsuckers trying to cross?" I asked, shooting my beta a sideways glance.
Jace shrugged, the leather of his Vanguard cut creaking. "At least I wouldn't be bored."
Patrol nights were always the same. Circle the town limits, check the weak spots in the Shadowshield, make sure no Crimson Order vampires were testing our defenses. Boring was good. Boring meant my pack was safe.
"Just another mile and we can head back to..." I stopped mid-sentence, my nostrils flaring.
A scent suddenly hit me like a fist to the gut. A wild and dangerous scent.
Mine.
The thought slammed into me from nowhere, my wolf suddenly alert and straining against my control. What the hell? I'd never felt him react so strongly to anything.
"Axel?" Jace's voice sounded distant. "You okay, man?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't. My bike was already swerving, tires kicking up gravel as I gunned the engine toward the source of that scent.
The headlight cut through the darkness, illuminating a shape on the road ahead. A woman, collapsed in a heap just past the invisible line of our territory. Right where the Shadowshield barrier thinned enough for outsiders to cross.
I brought my bike to a skidding halt, leaping off before it had fully stopped. Jace pulled up beside me, but I barely noticed. All my senses were locked on her.
As I got closer, the scent grew stronger, honey and storm clouds and something else. Something that made my wolf slam against my ribcage, desperate to break free.
"Don't get closer," Jace warned, stepping off his bike. "We don't know what she is."
I ignored him, crouching beside the woman. Dark hair spilled across the asphalt, her face pale in the moonlight. She was beautiful in a soft, polished way that screamed money and city life. What the hell was someone like her doing out here?
I reached out, hesitating just before touching her skin. Something was off. The scent coming from her was changing, shifting subtly like...
"Shit," I muttered, finally placing it. "She's turning."
Jace moved closer, brow furrowed. "Turning? That's impossible. She's at least mid-twenties."
He was right. Werewolves presented at puberty, thirteen or fourteen at the latest. Nobody turned this late.
I pressed my fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse. The moment I touched her, electricity shot up my arm, not pain, but recognition. My wolf howled inside my head, a single word echoing through my mind.
Mate.
"No fucking way," I whispered, jerking my hand back like her skin had burned me.
"What?" Jace stepped closer, concern etched across his face. "Axel, what's wrong?"
I shook my head, trying to silence the roaring in my blood. Mates were fairy tales, stories the old wolves told cubs to make them believe in happy endings. Twenty years old and the youngest Alpha the Vanguards had ever had, I didn't have time for that bullshit.
But my wolf wasn't listening to reason. He recognized something in this stranger that I couldn't deny.
"We need to get her back to the compound," I said, voice rougher than I intended.
Jace's eyes widened. "Are you insane? We don't bring strangers into our territory. That's your rule."
"Look at her, Jace," I snapped, gesturing to her crumpled form. "She's in the middle of a turn that shouldn't be happening. You want to leave her out here for the Crimson Order to find?"
My beta studied me, eyes narrowing. "This isn't like you. What aren't you telling me?"
I avoided his gaze, bending down to slip my arms beneath the woman's body. She was lighter than she looked, her skin burning hot with fever. As I lifted her, she whimpered in her unconscious state, turning her face into my chest.
Something protective and fierce surged through me. I'd never felt anything like it before, this instant, overwhelming need to shield her from everything. To claim her.
"The pack won't like this," Jace warned, still watching me with suspicion.
"The pack doesn't have to like it," I growled, the Alpha tone slipping into my voice without my permission. "They just have to accept it."
Jace raised his hands in surrender. "Your funeral. Or maybe all of ours if she turns out to be trouble."
I carried her to my bike, cradling her against my chest with one arm while I swung my leg over the seat. Her head lolled against my shoulder, and I caught another wave of her scent. My teeth ached with the need to bite, to mark.
What the hell was happening to me?
"Tell Stitch to get the med room ready," I ordered Jace as he mounted his own bike. "And keep this quiet for now."
The ride back to the compound was torture. Every bump in the road pressed her body closer to mine, her scent wrapping around me like a drug. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, demanding I stop the bike and claim what was ours.
Ours. The thought was as terrifying as it was tempting.
With each mile closer to the Vanguard compound, I noticed the subtle changes in her scent. The human notes were fading, replaced by something wild. It was like watching a flower bloom in fast motion, except this bloom shouldn't have been possible. Werewolves don't turn this late in life.
I glanced down at the woman in my arms as we approached the gates of the compound, an old factory we'd converted into pack headquarters. Her eyelids fluttered, though she remained unconscious. A soft growl escaped her lips, a growl that was not human and not quite wolf.
"Who are you?" I whispered, tightening my hold on her as the gates swung open.
Whatever the answer, I already knew one thing
for certain, my life was about to change forever. And I wasn't sure I was ready for it.