Three years had passed since I started teaching at the local wolf academy.
I found unexpected peace in my routine, guiding young guardians in the sacred art of totem crafting.
The academy became my sanctuary. Among the fresh-faced students was a bright young boy named Lucas who quickly became like a little brother to me. Orphaned at a young age, he possessed remarkable talent and an extremely keen sense of observation.
"Miss Freya, I finished the carving," Lucas announced proudly one afternoon, holding up his work for inspection.
I smiled, examining his totem with genuine appreciation.
"Your technique is improving every day."
Just as I finished saying those words, I felt it again—
a strange sensation prickling at the edges of my awareness.
This feeling had been haunting me lately without explanation.
The hairs on my neck stood up as an unfamiliar scent drifted through the open window—fresh cut grass with undertones of something powerful, ancient.
My damaged wolf stirred within me, more alert than she had been in years.
I gathered my materials and headed toward the door. As in previous times, I carefully observed the surroundings, but did not find anything unusual.
However, that did not prevent that feeling from increasing day by day.
Until one day—
I was in the middle of demonstrating a complex carving technique to my students when the classroom door burst open.
Two extremely tall men in sleek black attire rushed in, scanning the room with predatory intensity.
Circling me with predatory grace, he leaned in close. I shivered as his nose traced along my skin, then he inhaled deeply as though my scent like a drug he was addicted to.
His finger reached under my chin and tilted my head up.
“I’m Wyatt McMillan. Your Alpha King.”
"Your name, mate."
I froze, caught in his commanding gaze.
My pulse hammered so loudly I was certain everyone could hear it.
"A- Adira, Adira Wade," I stammered.
Alpha King? How could my true fated mate be a freaking king?!

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