Into the Alpha’s Keep Chapter 17: 16

POV Fenrir Dăneşti

That’s why Savannah’s confession about her arranged marriage didn’t jolt me as much as it might have—especially after she’d hesitantly revealed the group she belonged to, her voice trembling as she spoke the name of her old pack.

For a fleeting moment, suspicion had gripped me, sharp and cold: I’d wondered if she was a traitor, a cunning wolf slipped into my territory like a splinter under the skin, sent to pry open my defenses and invite enemies into the heart of my home.

The thought had gnawed at me, fueled by the raw memory of how I’d lost control with her—my teeth sinking into her flesh, marking her as mine in a haze of instinct I couldn’t explain, and worse, letting her mark me in return.

No wolf, not a single one in all my years, had ever gotten close to my neck. That vulnerability was a line I’d never allowed to be crossed, a boundary etched in blood and pride.

So why her?

Why had I faltered?

But then I’d seen it—the truth shimmering in her wide, stormy eyes, tangled with the fear that shadowed her every glance.

She wasn’t hiding deceit; she was terrified—of me, of the alpha I was, of the bond I’d forced upon her without her consent.

That fear was real, visceral, and it stirred something in me I didn’t want to name, a flicker of guilt warring with the possessive heat that still simmered in my veins.

I dodged a low-hanging branch, the rough bark scraping the air inches from my shoulder, and quickened my pace through the forest.

Her scent sharpened now, blooming in my lungs with every deep inhale—wildflowers and sweat, edged with the faint, acrid bite of desperation. I narrowed my focus, tuning out the world around me: the cheerful chirping of small birds flitting through the canopy, the skittering of unseen animals in the underbrush, the rhythmic rustling of leaves swaying in the cool morning breeze.

None of it mattered.

My senses zeroed in on her, the pull of her presence a thread I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let snap.

Then I heard it, faint at first but growing clearer with every stride: a racing heartbeat, thudding like a war drum in the distance; heavy, ragged breathing that betrayed her exhaustion; and the delicate crunch of dried twigs snapping under careful footsteps, so soft they might’ve been whispers against the earth.

It was her.

Savannah.

My lips curved into a smile, sharp and predatory, a thrill coiling tight in my chest as I pressed forward, my boots pounding the forest floor with renewed purpose.

This cat-and-mouse game was a twisted delight—she amused me with her stubborn defiance, infuriated me with her refusal to yield.

I relished the chase, the way it set my blood alight, even as it stoked the embers of my frustration.

Ahead, I caught a glimpse of her through the trees: Savannah running with a backpack strapped tightly to her shoulders, its straps cutting into the fabric of her new outfit—one of the pieces Nicoleta had brought her, a dark green jacket and sturdy pants that hugged her frame.

She was prepared, truly intent on escaping, on gambling her fate far from me, her focus so singular she hadn’t yet sensed my approach.

Her hair whipped behind her, a tangled banner of determination, and I marveled at the fire that drove her even now.

I surged forward, closing the gap in a heartbeat, and seized her arm with a grip like iron, yanking her toward me. Our bodies collided, her smaller frame slamming against my chest with a force that jolted the air from my lungs.

She screamed—a sharp, startled cry that pierced the silence of the forest—her hands flailing for a moment before she stilled, caught in my hold.

Her wide eyes met mine, pupils blown with shock, but beneath the panic, I glimpsed something unexpected: a faint, fleeting glimmer of relief. It was subtle, buried under layers of fear and defiance, but it was there, flickering like a candle in a storm.

That was interesting. She feared being caught by her ex-fiancé’s men more than falling into my claws again.

"Where do you think you’re going, little wolf?" I whispered, gripping her hair tightly and tilting her head toward me.

Sweat gleamed on her forehead, reflecting the silvery moonlight. She was breathing hard, gulping air forcefully.

I leaned in, inhaling deeply, absorbing the scent of dew and wild jasmine.

"But the real question is: how did you manage to escape?" I asked, brushing the tip of my nose against her cheek.

The door was made of solid wood, difficult to break, especially for an omega like her. The room was also far too high to jump safely.

"Heavens, what did you do?" she asked, staring at me with wide blue eyes.

I recalled my chaotic, bloodied image, covered in the gore of my enemies. I gave her a wicked smile.

"I got rid of our enemies. Isn’t that what you asked me to do?" I said with feigned innocence.

She blinked, as though realizing in that moment just how cruel I could be. She shuddered, but I felt no fear emanating from her.

"My God..." she murmured, swallowing hard.

I tightened my grip on her soft hair.

"Now, tell me exactly how you managed to escape."

A vein pulsed at the side of her slender neck.

"You didn’t lock the window."

I raised an eyebrow.

"The house’s ceiling is too high. I didn’t think you’d jump..." She stared at me, smiling with intense satisfaction. I narrowed my eyes at her. "You despicable little wolf. I can’t believe you actually jumped out the window."

"It was the only way to escape."

I didn’t know whether to feel furious enough to kill her or...admire her courage and audacity. Not many she-wolves I knew had Savannah’s stupid stubbornness.

"And you didn’t think you might crack your skull in the process?"

She shrugged.

"It would’ve been an accident."

I had to breathe deeply to calm myself before I strangled her again. How dare she say that so nonchalantly in front of me? If she died, I’d be as good as dead, too, thanks to the cursed bond. And dying before reaching five hundred years wasn’t in my plans.

"How dare you?" I growled through clenched teeth. "I should punish you for that, for being so irresponsible and idiotic."

"IDIOTIC?" she shouted, pulling away from me. "You strangled me, used your command on me, then locked me in a room, treating me like I was nothing. Living with you isn’t much different from how it would’ve been with Hunter, Fenrir. And I ran from him because I didn’t want that life. So, tell me, what’s the difference?"

I stepped closer, my fur standing on end as rage threatened to consume me.

"Don’t you dare compare me to him," I whispered, a warning.

"Well, there are many similarities between you two. And I won’t be controlled anymore."

"Then who are you, really? Since you walked into my life, you’ve brought me nothing but trouble."

"Then let me go!" she yelled, throwing her arms up and letting her backpack fall to the ground.

"While our lives are intertwined? Never."

"And the ritual? It’s an option...I—"

I surged forward, wrapping a hand around her slender neck and pinning her against the trunk of a tree. My hands slid to her arms, holding her in place.

I felt the golden glow of my eyes. Hers shone emerald green, a clear sign of her inhuman origin.

"I’ll never allow it," I whispered, brushing the tip of my nose along the delicate skin of her neck, hearing the pulse of her vein. The mark of my teeth was still visible, my claim on her.

"Then I’ll force you," she retorted, her breathing labored.

My primal nature reacted to her challenge—the most feral part of my being. I lifted my head to meet her gaze, offering a crooked smirk before lowering my mouth to the same spot I had bitten before.

I sank my teeth into her flesh, drawing blood and marking her as mine once more. She tasted of honey, sweet and smooth. She was warm, like a winter morning’s sunlight. If paradise existed, I imagined it was a piece of her.

She growled, reacting to my domination.

I withdrew my teeth and stood upright, aligning our faces. Her eyes shone even brighter, her nails extended in a half-transformation, and she bared her fangs at me, furious. I smiled, her blood dripping from my chin.

I inhaled, catching the scent of her arousal.

"I own you, little wolf," I declared before leaning in to press my lips against hers.