Chapter 2
Zane carried me back to his territory by force.
It was a massive stone fortress perched on the edge of a cliff.
From that day on, my feet barely touched the ground.
"Open your mouth."
A piece of raw meat, still dripping blood, was held up to my lips.
I curled up on the enormous bed piled with thick snow-fox fur, staring at the terrifying man kneeling on one knee before me.
On Zane's face—wild, scarred, savage—there was now, unbelievably, a look of careful, anxious eagerness to please.
"I—I can't eat that..." I stammered.
Even though I carried wolf blood in my veins, I'd spent my whole life living among humans. I rarely ate raw meat.
"One more bite. You're too thin. Your waist is so slim I'm afraid to even squeeze it." Zane frowned, his grip firm yet carefully restrained, and pushed the meat into my mouth.
He watched me chew, his throat working restlessly again.
The extreme contrast left me breathless. The same man who, just yesterday, had said he'd feed me to the wolves now guarded me every single day like a dog jealously protecting its food.
The moment I strayed even slightly from his sight, he'd lose his mind.
"I want... I want to grow some herbs." I swallowed the meat and worked up the courage to make the request.
I needed something to occupy myself, or this suffocating possessiveness of his would drive me insane.
Zane blinked, startled, then spoke. "I know you used to keep an herb garden. I'll give you the whole plot on the back mountain. I'll have the weeds cleared out for you."
His fingers brushed gently against my cheek, and the searing heat of his touch sent a shiver through my entire body.
That afternoon, Zane really did take me to the back mountain.
"Go ahead and look around, see what else you might need. I'll start turning the soil for you."
He stripped off his shirt without hesitation, revealing a back covered in muscle and scars, and set to work turning the earth with his bare hands.
I stood off to the side, watching his back, and felt the fear inside me ease, just slightly.
Maybe, I thought, he just had a bad temper.
"What are you looking at?"
My mind went blank with a sudden jolt, every hair on my body standing on end.
I turned, stiff with dread. It was Lucius, the Alpha of this pack.
He wore a long black coat, his silver-gray hair combed back without a single strand out of place.
He stood less than a meter from me, his gray eyes coldly assessing me.
"Alpha..." I stumbled backward in fear, my legs going weak, nearly causing me to fall.
Lucius made no move to catch me.
"So the half-blood really is this fragile." His voice was ice-cold as his gaze fell on the small pouch of herb seeds I had just been planting.
He plucked up a leaf I had touched moments before and lifted it to his nose.
I watched his expression darken in an instant—something like a current of black smoke seemed to churn in the depths of his gray eyes.
He looked at me, his throat sliding down in an agonizingly slow swallow.
"Alpha, what are you doing here?"
Zane dropped his hoe and rushed over, pulling me behind him protectively.
Lucius unhurriedly let the leaf fall and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his fingers.
"Just came to see for myself what's so special about the half-blood who made you abandon even border patrol." Lucius's voice was perfectly calm, without the faintest ripple.
He turned to leave—but in that instant, as he pivoted, he shot me one long, penetrating look.
