Chapter 2 THE STRANGE MAN AND THE WARNING

CHAPTER 002

THE STRANGE MAN AND THE WARNING

CHARLOTTE

My heart was thudding too fast.

That was the first clear thought I had as I stood there watching them move closer. The second was Zade's voice in my head, plain and simple: don't wander too far…and the sharp, useless realization that I had done exactly that.

I hadn't even gone far. That was the ridiculous part. I could still see the back of the house from where I stood. And yet here I was, surrounded, with nothing but open grass between four wolves and me that were advancing as they had already decided how this was going to end.

I didn't scream. I don't know why. My throat closed up completely, and the sound just wouldn't come.

I took one step back. Then another.

Then something happened that made me forget about screaming entirely.

The nearest wolf stilled. Its head dropped slightly. And then I heard it—a sound I had no name for. A deep, wet cracking, like something being pulled apart and put back together at the same time.

The wolf's shape began to shift. Its limbs stretched and shortened simultaneously. Its coat receded. The whole thing lasted maybe four seconds, and by the end of it, where the wolf had been standing, there was now a person.

Then another. Then another. Then the last.

Four wolves turned into four people standing in the grass in front of me without a single piece of clothing between them.

The group was a mix. Two young women, one of whom looked barely older than me, and two men who looked to be in their mid-twenties. They stood there completely unbothered, like this was the most ordinary situation in the world.

I stared.

My mind refused it at first. I couldn't help it.

No. I shook my head in disbelief.

That did not just happen.

*Wolves do not turn into people. That is not a thing that

happened. That has never happened.*

But my eyes kept insisting. Four naked strangers where four animals had been a heartbeat ago.

The world tilted.

I stumbled backward, one foot catching on the uneven ground, and nearly went down. My hands came up like they could push the sight away. Air wouldn’t stay in my lungs properly.

Maybe I was hallucinating.

That had to be it.

I’d hit my head somehow. Or the stress of moving here, of everything with Zade, of the last few months, had finally cracked something loose in my brain.

People didn’t change shape. Animals didn’t become people. This was the sort of thing that belonged in fever dreams and bad movies, not in the middle of an ordinary afternoon with the house still visible behind me.

And yet the people were still there, naked and looking at me.

I heard my own voice before I decided to speak.

“Did you… Did you shift? From animals into… people?”

There was a beat of silence.

Then they all laughed. Softly at first, then louder, like I’d said something genuinely entertaining.

One of the girls tilted her head, light-brown hair falling over one shoulder. She was slim, sharp-eyed, and completely unbothered by her lack of clothes.

“Strange for us to do that, is it?” she asked, voice almost gentle with mockery. “You look like you’ve never seen it before.”

Another of them—taller, broader, with a jaw that looked made for trouble—stepped closer, studying my face with open curiosity. “Why do you look so surprised? Like you don’t do it yourself.”

Something hot and defensive flared under my ribs.

“Because I don’t,” I snapped. “I’m different from you.”

The tall man drew in a slow breath through his nose. His eyes half-closed for a moment, then opened again, darker.

“Could’ve sworn you smell like us,” he said quietly. “Partly, anyway. Like you belong and don’t, both at the same time.”

The words landed wrong. They settled somewhere deep and uncomfortable, where I didn’t want them.

You smell like us.

No.

No, that was just more of the same impossible nonsense. I was still hallucinating. That was the only explanation that made any sense.

My brain had decided to invent an entire scene complete with sound effects and smell and naked strangers who thought I was one of them.

Any second now I would blink, and the wolves would be back, or the grass would be empty, or I would wake up in the guest room with a headache and a story I would never tell anyone.

Except I didn’t blink the sight away.

The four of them remained solid, real and far too close.

I swallowed hard. My pulse was still hammering against my throat.

“Have you no shame?” I managed, the words coming out sharper than I intended. “Parading around like that in front of a stranger?”

There was another beat of silence.

Then they laughed again—louder this time, as I’d just confirmed whatever joke they thought I was.

“Shame?” the first girl repeated, still smiling. “It’s perfectly normal here. Nothing we haven’t all seen before.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “How do you not know that? Where are you from?”

“I just arrived in town,” I answered with a scoff, trying to keep my voice steady even though my hands were still trembling.

“Arrived from where?” she pressed.

“That’s not really your business.”

The tall man stepped even closer. He was too close now, well inside whatever distance I was comfortable with, and he knew it.

He drew in another slow breath, eyes half-closing again, and then he looked at me the way people look at something they’ve decided they want.

“What’s your name?”

“Back off,” I said. “I want to go back to my brother’s house.”

Something shifted in the group. The easy amusement drained from their faces, and something cooler replaced it.

“Your brother’s house,” the girl repeated. “And where does your brother live?”

“Back off,” I said again. “Means I’m done talking.”

The tall man's jaw tightened. “Bold words.”

“Make a move, then,” one of the others said quietly, stepping to the left to cut off the path back to the house. “If you're so sure of yourself.”

I looked at the gap he'd just closed. Then I looked at the girl closest to me.

I knew I wasn't leaving without a fight. I'd known it the moment they formed the circle. So, I stopped waiting for a better moment and threw my fist straight into the girl's face.

The crack of contact surprised me as much as it surprised her. She stumbled back a full step, and when she straightened, there was blood running from her nose. Her hand flew up to her face, and she looked at her fingers like she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

Her eyes went wide. Then they went cold.

She came at me fast. I stepped back, planted my foot, and kicked out hard. My heel connected with her ribs, and she went down into the dirt with a grunt.

I had maybe one second to feel good about that before the second girl grabbed my arm from behind.

After that, it became messy. I was outnumbered, and I knew it, but I wasn't going quietly. I elbowed someone in the face. I pulled free of a grip that was too tight, stumbled, and got grabbed again.

One of the men caught my shoulder and shoved me, and I hit the ground hard on my hands and knees, the impact jolting up through my wrists.

I was getting back up when I heard a motorcycle engine driving close.

The grip on my arm released.

I looked up. A motorbike pulled up at the edge of the tree line, maybe fifteen meters away, and the man on it hadn't taken off his helmet, but his head was turned toward the group, and the group had gone completely still.

He got off the bike and pulled off the helmet.

I understood the stillness then.

He was enormous; there was no other word for it. At least six and a half feet tall, broad across the shoulders in a way that made the leather jacket he wore look like it was doing its best to contain him. Long brown hair, loose around his face. He had strong features and a presence that filled the space without effort.

And for one ridiculous second, my mind tried to put the pieces together.

Maybe he’s the head of them. Maybe he’s one of them too—another animal that can turn into a person.

The thought should have terrified me. After what I’d just seen, it should have sent me running.

Instead, it stalled, because the man standing there was too handsome for the idea to sit right. Something in the clean lines of his face and the way he held himself made the possibility feel almost insulting to whatever logic I had left.

His gaze moved across the group, and it carried something in it that I felt from fifteen meters away—a weight that pressed down without a sound being made.

“What’s going on here?”

Nobody answered. The group stood there like children who'd been caught at something.

I pushed myself to my feet and brushed the dirt off my palms. “They came out of nowhere and attacked me,” I explained, since apparently no one else was going to speak. “Because I wouldn't answer their questions. Is this how people get welcomed in this town?”

His eyes moved to me.

Something about its directness made me want to take a step back. His expression sat somewhere between irritation and something else—not quite amusement but close to it, like my words had surprised him in a way he hadn't expected and wasn't sure what to do with yet.

He looked at me for a moment longer than felt necessary.

Then he turned back to the group and gave a single nod. That was it. No words, no instruction. Just a nod.

They glared at me, then one by one turned and disappeared into the trees. Within seconds, there was no sign they had ever been there.

I let out a slow breath.

When I turned back, he was looking at me again. Completely still, the way he'd gone still the first moment he saw me. His nostrils flared slightly, almost like he was catching a scent, and something crossed his face that looked, strangely, like an alarm.

Then he put his helmet back on, revved the engine once, and rode away.

I stood there and watched him go.

He hadn't asked if I was hurt. He hadn't introduced himself or even said a single word to me directly. Just nodded at a group of people who had been on top of me thirty seconds earlier, sent them running like they were nothing, and left.

What a man.

Footsteps came thundering across the grass behind me, and I spun around. Zade was running from the direction of the house, breathing hard, his eyes moving quickly over me from head to foot.

“Are you hurt? What happened? I heard—” He stopped, gripping my arms, scanning my face.

“I'm fine. A few scratches.” I gestured toward the tree line. “Some people came out of the woods. Things got unpleasant. That man on the motorbike showed up, and they scattered.”

Something changed in Zade's face. The relief that had just arrived there packed up and left. He looked at the empty road where the motorbike had disappeared, then back at me, and his hands tightened slightly on my arms.

“What man?”

“I don't know. He's a big, brown-haired man with blue eyes. And he rode off before I could ask anything.”

Zade was quiet for a moment. A long moment.

“Let's go home, Charlie.”

“Zade, who was he?”

He steered me firmly back toward the house, one hand on my shoulder. I let him, but I didn't drop it.

“Who was he?”

He exhaled through his nose. He didn't look at me.

“Zade?” I pressed.

“Alpha Dorian,” he answered with a sigh. “And stay away from him.”