Chapter 14

Rowan stood at the edge of the street, every muscle taut, the scent of the rogue clinging to the night air like rot. He watched until Clara’s car turned the corner and vanished, only then letting the growl rise in his throat.

Too close.

The bastard had come too close.

The wolf inside him raged, demanding blood, demanding he chase down the intruder and rip him apart. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails biting his palms as he forced control. If Clara had seen even a fraction of his other side tonight…

His jaw tightened. She’d looked at him with wide, terrified eyes—but not of him. Not yet. And that was both a relief and a danger.

He inhaled deeply, sifting through the scents the night offered. The rogue’s musk trailed through the trees, sharp and reckless. A lone wolf—hungry, unstable. Rowan could track him easily, but his instincts warred: go after the threat or follow Clara to make sure she got home safe.

The decision shouldn’t have been hard. His duty as Alpha was to protect the pack, the town. Eliminate the danger. But tonight, for the first time in years, the Alpha inside him snarled in protest.

Protect her.

Rowan closed his eyes for a moment, wrestling the urge back into its cage. He couldn’t let himself think of Clara that way—not when he barely understood why the bond pulled at him so fiercely. She was human, unknowing, fragile in ways she didn’t even realize. Getting close to her could destroy her.

And yet, when she’d said his name… his chest had tightened in a way he couldn’t ignore.

The night air shifted. He snapped his eyes open, catching movement deeper in the woods. The rogue’s scent thickened, taunting.

Rowan’s wolf surged to the surface, vision sharpening, his body humming with the need to shift. He stalked into the shadows, silent and lethal.

“You’ve made a mistake,” he murmured into the darkness, voice low with promise.

The rogue didn’t answer with words. Branches cracked, a snarl echoed, and then the forest exploded with motion.

Rowan let go. His wolf tore free, power flooding through him in a rush of muscle and fur. Hazel eyes glowed in the dark as he launched forward, every instinct sharpened to a single point: destroy the threat before it ever came near Clara again.

The shift ripped through him, bones reshaping, muscles stretching, fur bristling across his skin. In a heartbeat, the man was gone, and the wolf stood in his place—massive, powerful, his golden-blond coat catching the moonlight as hazel eyes burned.

The rogue lunged from the underbrush, jaws snapping. Too slow. Rowan twisted, slamming his bulk into the wolf’s ribs with bone-cracking force. The smaller beast yelped, rolling through the leaves before scrambling back up, eyes wild.

He’s starving, Rowan realized, circling. The scent of desperation rolled off the rogue, sour and unhinged. A wolf without a pack. A wolf without control.

The rogue lunged again, reckless, teeth grazing Rowan’s shoulder. Pain flared hot, but it only sharpened Rowan’s focus. With a guttural snarl, he twisted, snapping his jaws around the rogue’s scruff and slamming him into the ground.

The forest echoed with the thud of bodies colliding, snarls ripping the night apart. Claws raked across Rowan’s flank; hot blood spilled, but it barely registered. He pinned the rogue, strength pressing down like stone.

Submit, his instincts commanded. Yield or die.

But the rogue had nothing left to yield. He fought with a cornered madness, thrashing, snapping, heedless of the death crouched over him. Rowan’s patience burned away. With brutal precision, he clamped his jaws around the rogue’s throat.

One decisive jerk, and the forest went still.

Rowan held there, chest heaving, before he let the lifeless body drop. Silence pressed heavy around him, broken only by the rush of his own breath.

His wolf padded back, circling the corpse. The stench of rogue blood tainted the air, but beneath it, faint and lingering, was her.

Clara’s scent still clung to his skin, to the night air, sweet and grounding even here among death.

Rowan’s ears flicked back, unease rippling through him. She had been close—too close. If he hadn’t arrived when he had… He shoved the thought down, a low growl vibrating in his chest.

No. He wouldn’t let that happen. Not to her.

Shaking blood from his fur, Rowan shifted back, skin steaming in the cool night air. Naked, battered, he stood over the rogue’s body with clenched fists. His cuts were already knitting shut, muscle pulling tight as the Alpha’s power worked through him.

But inside, the ache remained.

Not from the fight. From her.

He could still see Clara’s wide eyes, the tremor in her hands as she’d fumbled her keys. The way she’d looked at him—not like a monster, but like a man she wanted to trust.

Rowan dragged in a breath and forced his mind back to order. He would deal with the body, report to his Beta, double patrols along the Hollow’s edge.

But even as he planned, one thought refused to let go.

Clara wasn’t safe.

And whether she wanted him in her life or not, Rowan knew one thing with bone-deep certainty—he was going to protect her. Whatever it cost.