I used to be an Alpha with a pack, a future, a fated bond. Then I found her in bed with another man, my mark still fresh on her neck. I rejected her in front of everyone, then vanished into the wilds, too broken to lead.

Now I’m just a drunk in a backwater bar, chasing oblivion. Tonight, I must’ve passed out at the counter. When I come to, there’s a boot on my chest and a snarl in my ear.

'You reek of self-pity,' the Alpha above me says. His eyes are gold fire in the dim light, his jaw set like stone. 'You’re wasting your pain.'

I laugh, slurring, 'Then make me feel something real.'

He does. One punch. Then another. I don’t block them. I want them.

Finally, he grabs my collar, hauling me up. 'You’re not weak,' he growls. 'So stop acting like it.'

Our faces are inches apart. His scent—pine, smoke, raw power—floods my senses. My breath hitches. My heart pounds.

And I know, with terrifying clarity, that I’m falling for him.