The Crown Prince Reluctant Mate

Chapter 1

Lena crouched in the undergrowth, her heart pounding against her ribs as the blood moon glared down from the sky like a furious, swollen eye. The wind cut through the ancient trees, carrying the desperate cries of Omegas being dragged into the clearing one by one. Each name called out was met with jeers and the cold, merciless voices of Alphas who had come to claim their mate tonight. She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, stifling the sob rising in her throat. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still, if she didn't even breathe too loudly, they'd miss her. Maybe she could survive this blood moon the same way she'd survived the others. Hidden. Forgotten.

But fate was never that kind.

"Lena."

The sound of her name sliced through the night like a blade. No. No, not now, not like this. She shrank deeper into the brush, panic clouding her senses. Maybe they meant another Lena. Maybe if she stayed down, didn't move, didn't even exist-

A rough hand yanked her from her hiding place, dragging her out into the open. She crashed against a broad chest, the wind knocked from her lungs as she struggled, her nails clawing at skin and cloth. Another hand clamped around her throat, firm but not enough to choke, just enough to still her. "Enough," a voice growled.

And it was a voice she knew. A voice that haunted the dark edges of her memories.

Kian Thorn. Alpha of the Blackclaw Pack. Ruthless. Unforgiving. The last man she ever wanted to touch her.

He stared down at her, dark hair tousled by the wind, his storm-gray eyes like a brewing storm. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking there as though he fought against something inside himself. And then, for the briefest flicker of a second, recognition passed through his gaze, a flash of something softer before it vanished beneath the hardened lines of his face.

"Found her," he called over his shoulder.

"No," Lena choked out, shaking her head as tears blurred her vision. "You don't understand. I'm not-"

"You're mine," he said, his voice a low, dangerous thing.

Before she could protest, before she could plead, he crushed his mouth to hers.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a claim. It was teeth and heat and fury, tasting of salt and heartbreak. Around them, the pack howled in approval, the noise crashing over her like a wave. And even as she fought it, even as her mind screamed to run, her traitorous wolf whimpered and leaned in, aching for the bond's pull.

And she felt it.