My feet crunched on the gravel path as I walked toward the pack’s lake.
The full moon was rising, the silvery orb peeking through the canopy of trees, the sky turning a dusky orange, the birds flying back to their nests. It was beautiful. It was magical.
The pack lake was where I came to think. To get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. To escape my pack for a little while.
They were my family, and I loved them, but sometimes I needed to just breathe and not feel the heavy gazes of my fellow wolves.
Because I knew what they thought of me.
I was the Moonlight pack’s loner. And I liked it that way.
I lived in the cabin just at the edge of the pack's border. My brother, Ethan, the beta of Moonlight, wanted me to stay at his house, but I had told him no. I was a grown woman, twenty-three years old, and I wanted my own place.
The pack had gotten used to me coming and going. I was the pack’s loner, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t sociable. It just meant that I liked to be alone. I liked to do things at my own pace. I didn’t like to be rushed.
I liked to take long baths in the lake, to hike in the woods. I liked the quiet, the peace. I liked to read books. I liked to paint. I liked to have picnics by myself, where I lay out in the sun and soaked up the warmth, content to just exist in the moment.
I didn’t have many friends. Most of them had left for college, to explore other packs, to see what else was out there.
I hadn’t left because I didn’t want to leave my brother. My parents had died when we were teenagers, and it had been just the two of us since. He was all I had.
And even though he could be overbearing, he was my best friend. He knew me better than anyone. And he loved me, unconditionally.
I told him I didn’t want my own place, but he knew that there was no use arguing with me.
The cabin was nice. I had my own room, and it was set back from the pack. No one bothered me there, and it was perfect for what I needed.
I had just gotten my degree in art history from the local university and was waiting to hear back from the local museum on a possible position. I would curate their paintings, their sculptures, their relics. It would be my job to preserve the history of our pack and the local area. It would be perfect for me.
Because I wanted a simple life. A life without any complications.
But that wasn’t in the cards for me.
My feet crunched on some twigs as I stepped into the clearing, the lake shimmering with the fading light. I took a breath, letting my wolf relax.
“Do you come here often?”
a deep voice drawled.
I jumped, whirling around. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn’t even realized there was another wolf in the vicinity. I cursed myself for letting my guard down.
The man stood at the edge of the clearing, leaning against a pine tree. He watched me, his piercing blue gaze roaming my figure. He was shirtless, his jeans slung low on his hips. His arms were crossed over his chest, and a smile twisted his lips.
Brandon Jameson. The Moonlight pack’s future Alpha. And my brother’s best friend.
I swallowed hard, looking away. I could feel his gaze burning into my back, but I didn’t turn to look at him again. I started to make my way back through the path.
“Ivy,” he called out. “Where are you going? I thought we could chat for a moment.”
I ignored him, walking faster. I was almost to the end of the path when a hand wrapped around my wrist, whirling me back around. I stumbled into a firm chest, hands coming to rest on either side of my face.
“Look up at me,” he murmured.
I stiffened, raising my gaze to his. He searched my face, his own expression unreadable.
“Ivy…” he trailed off.
My name sounded strange coming from his lips, but my wolf stirred.
“What do you want?” I demanded, taking a step back.
He let me go, but his eyes still searched my face. “I was hoping you would talk to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think so. Besides, you have plenty of women who are more than willing to talk to you, Brandon.”
He took a step forward, and I took a step back, trying to get away from him.
His nostrils flared, and he swallowed hard.
“Do I make you nervous, little Ivy?” he whispered, taking another step forward.
“I’m not little,” I said, scowling.
He smirked. “You are compared to me, sweetie.”
My cheeks warmed. “Let me go, Brandon. I’m not interested in being another one of your playthings.”
He growled low, his eyes darkening. “What I want from you has nothing to do with being a plaything. I want you, Ivy. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
I scoffed. “Yes. You and every other woman in this pack. Even the mated ones.”
“Ivy,” he growled. “I’m serious. You know what I am, and you know what you do to me. I can’t stay away from you. I dream about you.”
“You do not,” I whispered. I knew exactly what he was. He was the wicked of the pack, and I wanted no part in that.
But my wolf stirred, and I felt my pulse quicken. He stood in front of me now, so close I could feel the warmth of his body. He reached out, brushing his fingers against my cheek. My breath hitched as desire shot through me.