Chapter 1 Prologue

• The first thing that hits me is the thirst.
• It’s not the kind you get from skipping water for a few hours. This is deeper, like I’ve been left in the desert for days, like every drop of moisture has been wrung from my body. My lips crack as I try to swallow, but nothing happens, only a dry rasp. It’s as if my throat’s sealed shut, like the inside of me has turned to dust. I try to lick my lips, but my tongue feels just as useless—thick, swollen.
• Everything feels dry. Everything feels wrong.
• And then, creeping in like a shadow from the corners of my mind, there’s fear. I don’t know where it comes from, only that it’s there, curling in my stomach, clawing at my insides. I try to grasp for memories, for something that makes sense, but they slip away like smoke.
• Something bad has happened, hasn’t it?
• I can’t remember, not clearly, but the fear tells me I should be afraid.
• My skin prickles, my heart starting to race before I even know why.
• I can feel the cold next.
• It’s not a chill, but the kind of biting cold that seeps into your bones, making everything heavy and numb at the same time. I’m lying on something hard—maybe concrete—and for a moment, a wild thought flashes through my mind: I’m naked.
• The idea seems ridiculous, impossible. I wouldn’t be lying here, exposed like this. I couldn’t be.
• But am I?
• I try to think back—try to remember how I got here.
• I went to bed, I tell myself, trying to ground myself in reality. I’m sure of it. I remember the weight of his jacket, that oversized thing he always left draped over the chair in my room. I’d wrapped myself in it before I fell asleep, the familiar smell of him still clinging to the fabric. It had made me feel safe. I was safe.
• I’m not anymore.
• A small sound escapes my lips as I try to move, a moan of frustration, fear, weakness. My body feels like it’s made of lead, too heavy to lift, too drained to fight. But then I hear something—a shuffle, soft but close. My heart stumbles, a new surge of panic rushing through me, and I try to sit up again, but nothing happens. I’m stuck, pinned by my own uselessness.
• Something presses against my lips—a straw. Cool water floods my mouth, and for a moment, all the panic, all the fear, it fades away. I drink deeply, desperate, the liquid sliding down my throat like salvation. It’s not enough, but it soothes something inside me, if only for a second.
• I force my eyes open, blinking against the blurry edges of my vision. The light is dim, everything smudged around the edges, like I’m seeing the world through frosted glass. But there’s someone leaning over me. A man. His face is too close, his eyes too wide and soft, watching me with a kind of intensity that makes my stomach twist.
• “Kass? How’re you feeling?”
• His voice is warm but it makes no sense to me. The words don’t land right. I blink again, trying to clear the fog from my mind.
• “What…?”
• He smiles, but it feels wrong. Too close. Too intentional.
• “Still a little out of it, huh?” he says, his tone casual, but there’s something beneath it. Something waiting. “You’re fine, Kass. You’ve just been asleep for a while. You’re home now.”
• Home. The word echoes in my mind, but it doesn’t settle. It doesn’t feel like home. It feels off.
• I try to move again, to sit up, to get away, but something stops me. My wrists—there’s something pulling them down. I glance down, the panic rising again, and I see it. Ropes. Thick, tight ropes wrapped around my wrists, tethering me to something solid. A pole maybe? It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I’m trapped.
• My heart slams against my ribs. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
• I yank at the ropes, hard, panic turning into a full-blown scream in my mind, but my voice comes out small. Pathetic.
• “Help me,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out. “Please… Who are you? Help me—”
• His hand presses against my shoulder, gently, but the weight of it is suffocating.
• “Sweetheart, don’t.” His voice is soft, too soft, as if he’s trying to calm a scared child. “You’ll hurt yourself. You’re safe here. Don’t you remember me?”
• No. No, I don’t. I shake my head, frantic, my pulse pounding in my ears. “No. I don’t know you.”
• “Yes, you do.” His smile widens, but there’s something sinister in it now. Something that sends chills down my spine. “I’m your boyfriend, Kass. You fainted, remember? I brought you home. I’ve been taking care of you.”
• Boyfriend? My mind races, but there’s nothing. No recognition, no memories of him. His face is a blur, like a smudge on a window I can’t wipe clean.
• But the way he looks at me—it’s like he expects me to know him. To love him.
• I tug at the ropes again, panic turning into something sharper, more desperate. “
• I don’t know you! I don’t know you. I live at Willow Park. I live in my sorority house—let me go!”
• “Kass.” His voice drops to a low murmur, and there’s a flash of something dark in his eyes. Something dangerous. “You know me.”
• He leans closer, his breath hot against my face, and I flinch. His hand moves to my cheek, cupping it, holding me still. Before I can pull away, his lips are on mine. Soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, but then harder, more possessive. I try to jerk away, my stomach lurching, but I can’t. His other hand grips my arm, fingers digging into my skin, holding me in place as his lips press harder, more insistent.
• I feel bile rise in my throat. This is wrong. All of this is wrong.
• When he pulls back, his smile is slow, satisfied, like he’s accomplished something. “You know I kiss you like that all the time, Kass.”
• I stare at him, my body frozen, my mind spinning. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.
• “You’re crazy,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
• His face flickers, something sharp crossing his features, but it’s gone in a second, replaced by that too-sweet smile. “Kass…”
• “Stop calling me that!” My voice cracks, raw and desperate. “How do you know my name?”
• His grip on my arm tightens, just for a moment, before he lets go. He shifts, his smile hardening, and suddenly, the air around us feels colder.
• “You’re confused,” he says, and there’s a new edge to his voice, a sharpness that wasn’t there before. “You just need more rest. You always get like this when you’re overtired. A few more hours of sleep, and you’ll feel better.”
• No. I shake my head, the panic rising again. “No, please. I don’t want to sleep.”
• “We’re not fighting about this, Kass.” His voice is calm, too calm, and it sends a shiver down my spine. His thumb brushes against my cheek, like he’s trying to soothe me, but it only makes me want to scream. “You’re mine, Kassidy Mullen. That’s the only thing you need to remember.”
• My heart pounds in my chest, a frantic, stuttering rhythm, and I try to stay calm, try to think, but my mind is racing. I can’t afford to panic, not now. I need to stay smart. I need to figure out who this man is, what he wants, and how the hell I can get out of here.
• “How long?” The words are shaky, but I force them out, trying to keep my voice steady. “How long have we been… together?”
• He hums, pleased by the question, like I’ve done something right.
• “A few months now. We met at the park, near your university. You were so beautiful, Kass.”
• Months? My skin crawls, but I force myself to stay still, to play along. “And… how long have I been asleep?”
• “Just a few days.” His smile widens, like this is all normal, like I’m supposed to know exactly what’s happening.
• Days?
• My head spins. My sense of time is unraveling, slipping away from me, and I don’t know what’s real anymore. I don’t know what’s happening.
• “Can I make a call?” I ask, my voice carefully measured. “I should let my family know I’m safe. That my—boyfriend is taking care of me.”
• His face hardens immediately. The softness vanishes in an instant, replaced by something cold, something terrifying. Before I can react, he’s standing, and his hand slams down on my shoulder, shoving me back against the pole. Pain shoots up my spine, and I gasp, the breath knocked from my lungs.
• "You really are confused," Paxton says, his voice turning colder, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones. It isn’t just words anymore; it’s ice, hard and sharp. “My mate doesn’t have a family. I saved you, Kass. That’s why we’re together. I’m the only family you need now.”
• The word mate echoes in my head, bouncing off every corner of my mind, trying to find a place to settle. But it doesn’t. It just hangs there, suspended between disbelief and terror. Mate? He can’t mean it. He can’t. There aren’t even that many werewolves left in South Willow, not enough to form a pack anymore.
• I blink, trying to push the fog of fear aside and think clearly. His scent drifts toward me—cedarwood. It’s the kind of scent that, under any other circumstance, might have felt comforting, even grounding. But right now, all it does is make my stomach turn. It’s too familiar, too personal, like he’s branding the air around me with his presence, making it impossible to forget that he’s here, so close. Too close.
• And then the word sinks in again. Mate. The weight of it settles like lead in my chest. If someone found their mate, they’d know it. That’s what we’ve always been told, right? The stories, the legends—they talk about the sparks, the pull, the way your soul recognizes the other half of itself in an instant. It’s not supposed to be forced. It’s supposed to feel like home.
• But there’s nothing. No sparks, no pull. Nothing that ties me to this man. The Moon Goddess made it so that when you meet your mate, it’s undeniable. The connection is supposed to complete you, make you whole. I don’t feel that with him. I feel empty. Hollow. Scared.
• We are not mates.
• But I can’t tell him that. If I do, I don’t know what will happen. If he thinks I’m rejecting him, I might as well sign my own death warrant. He’s not right in the head—I can see that now, the way he looks at me with this twisted sense of ownership. He’s dangerous, and the only thing keeping me alive right now is playing along.
• “You’re right,” I manage to choke out, my voice shaking, forcing a weak chuckle past the lump in my throat. “I was just confused.”
• His smile snaps back into place, sharp and predatory, like he’s proud of me for finally saying the right thing. I notice his teeth now, the subtle point of his canines. I hadn’t seen them before. Or maybe I hadn’t let myself look too closely. Maybe I was too afraid to see what was right in front of me.
• “Would you like me to remind you of everything, Kass? So you don’t say anything else silly?”
• I nod quickly, my heart thudding so hard against my chest I swear he can hear it. I just need to keep him calm. Keep him talking. If he’s talking, he’s not hurting me.
• “We live together,” he begins, his voice soothing, like he’s telling a bedtime story, not explaining some twisted nightmare. “In my family’s old house, back with the pack. It’s just the two of us now, but that’ll change soon. We’re mates, though it won’t be official until later. You’re Kassidy Mullen, but you’ll drop the Mullen once we’re fully mated. I’m Paxton Wilder. You call me Pax.”
• When I say nothing, he just keeps going.
• “You’re a shy girl, Kass. You don’t like being around people much. You prefer waiting at home for me to bring you things. And you love your pretty clothes, your makeup, your perfumes.” His eyes sweep over me, lingering in ways that make my skin crawl. “Every day, you take your medicine. Sometimes, you even ask me to help you with it. Don’t worry—I’ve been taking care of it while you were asleep.”
• Medicine? My heart skips a beat, and the panic claws at my throat again. What the hell is he talking about? I don’t take any medicine.
• I don’t need to. I try to keep my voice steady, but I can’t hide the tremble.
• “Medicine? What medicine? I… I don’t remember.”
• “Why does a pretty little thing like you need to worry about that, huh?” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch too gentle, too intimate. “You just take it because you need it. And before I forget—we’re not staying here long. Once you’re better, we’re heading back to the pack. I just wanted to give you the fresh scenery you were asking for. But, you know, our pack needs its Alpha.”
• “Of course. What’s, uh… what’s the name of your pack?”
• “Our pack, sweetheart. The Darkfang Pack. You’ve always said you didn’t want to be Luna, but it’s only a matter of time. I’m glad you’re coming around. You’re so perfect, you know that?”
• Before I can even think of a response, he leans in again, pressing his lips to mine. This time, I can’t stop the shudder that runs through me. I want to pull away, to shove him off, to scream, but I stay frozen, trapped under the weight of his body. His lips are rougher now, more demanding, and I feel his tongue push into my mouth, tasting me. Exploring me like he has every right.
• He moans softly, this disgusting sound that makes my skin crawl, like he’s lost in some sick fantasy I don’t want to be a part of. I keep my eyes open, just enough to see the way his darken with lust, the way his pupils dilate as he leans into me. When he finally pulls back, a string of saliva connects us, and bile rises in my throat.
• “Paxton?” I say, my voice trembling, hesitating as I try to control the panic that’s making it hard to breathe. “My arms… they’re really sore. Can you untie me, please?”
• “They wouldn’t be sore if you didn’t tug so much.” His tone is light, almost teasing, but I see the way his eyes narrow, the warning behind the words. “And it’s Pax.”
• “Right… Pax.” The word feels foreign on my tongue, but I swallow it down. “But I—I need to go to the bathroom.”
• “Oh, sweetheart. I didn’t think. Of course, let’s get you to the toilet.”
• He moves to untie my wrists, his fingers rubbing gently over the marks the ropes left behind. The ropes fall away, but the relief is short-lived. His hands are still on me, massaging my skin, making me feel like I’m sinking deeper into this nightmare. I watch him pull back the covers, and when I glance down, my heart stops.
• I’m naked.
• Lying on the cold, unforgiving concrete floor, my body exposed, vulnerable.
• “Oh, my God,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes as my hands move to cover myself, to hide from him. But it’s no use. I can’t hide from this. I can’t hide from him. The panic inside me swells until I can barely breathe, my chest tightening, my throat closing in. “Wh-what…”
• Paxton just laughs, this light, careless sound that feels like a slap in the face. He kneels down, lifting me into his arms like I’m nothing more than a doll, fragile and helpless.
• “What, you want me to tell you how beautiful you are?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose, his smile softening into something that might have seemed sweet if I wasn’t terrified. Up close, I can see every detail of his face—the deep brown eyes, the tan skin, the tousled black hair that might’ve made him attractive in another life. But right now, all I see is the monster behind the mask. “You’re beautiful, Kass. Let’s get you to the bathroom.”