He Traded a True Luna for a Fake

Leona Carpenter’s mind went completely blank, her inner wolf paralyzed. Her legs felt heavy as lead, too heavy to move. A massive black SUV tore past her like a streak of dark lightning, the sheer force of it almost terrifying. The violent gust of wind it kicked up sent her crashing hard onto the wet, unforgiving pavement.

She figured the driver would just speed off to the edge of the territory—there wasn’t a soul around to see what happened. But instead, the beast of a car swung around and screeched to a halt right in front of her.

The door swung open, and a pair of perfectly polished black leather boots stepped out. Long, straight legs strode toward her with terrifying purpose, and a black umbrella tilted over her head to block the unrelenting pouring rain. An overwhelming, suffocatingly powerful Alpha aura rolled off him, heavy enough to bring a weaker wolf to their knees.

"You okay?" Vance Martinez’s deep, rich rumble cut through the drumming of the rain, vibrating straight into her bones.

Leona lifted her gaze to the imposing male standing over her. He had sharp, striking features, a chiseled jawline, and dark, magnetic eyes that pulled her right in. There was a dangerous, ancient glint in them—the look of a true predator—that she couldn't look away from.

Wait… those eyes. Did her wolf recognize them? She couldn’t quite place the primal pull.

Leona shook her head, her voice soft and rough from the shock. "I’m fine, thank you…"

She pushed herself up with effort, but the scrape on her calf and the silver-like burn of the cut on her foot made her flinch hard, and she stumbled right back down, her weak muscles betraying her.

Suddenly, a strong, muscular arm curled around her waist, hauling her forcefully against a solid, scorching-hot frame.

Before she knew it, she was pressed right up against Vance’s chest, completely engulfed in his crisp, overwhelmingly dominant masculine scent—like dark woods and a brewing storm. Her hands landed instinctively on his chest, and she could feel the hard, firm muscle under his dress shirt—and her heart immediately started hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Electric tingles sparked across her skin where he touched her, making her inner wolf sit up and bare its teeth in confusion.

Her palms burned like fire, and she tried to scramble back, fighting the unnatural pull. Instead of letting go, he just scooped her up effortlessly into his arms like she weighed nothing.

She bared her teeth, a low warning growl vibrating in her throat, her gaze turning icy. "What do you think you’re doing? Put me down!"

She’d been bonded to Michael Hansen for three years, and they’d barely even touched outside of public appearances. A stranger male being this physically forward, letting his scent invade hers? It made her skin prickle with aggressive discomfort.

Vance held her hostile gaze, his expression completely calm and unshakable. "You’re hurt. You need to get to the healers right now."

"I-I can walk on my own paws," she spat back, struggling. Being this close to him made her jittery; his cool, suffocatingly powerful aura wrapped around her like a physical chain, and it only amplified her nerves.

"Don't move," he ordered. He didn't just say it—he used his Alpha Command. The raw, authoritative power of his voice slammed into her, forcing her spine straight, and all the protests instantly died right in Leona’s throat as her wolf involuntarily submitted to the sheer weight of his dominance.

Once she was settled in the heavy vehicle, a cold chill went through her and she sneezed. Vance reached over to turn down the AC, then noticed she was still shivering, and draped his heavy wool coat over her shoulders. "Don’t let your wolf freeze."

"Thank you." The coat was drenched in his potent scent and intoxicating warmth, and it stirred something weird, wild, and unnameable deep in her chest.

Vance caught the pink rising in her cheeks, and a flicker of predatory amusement glinted in his dark eyes. "I should be the one thanking you."

"What do you mean?" Leona blinked, her wolf utterly confused.

He held her gaze steady, his voice a low, sure purr. "Thank you for letting me apologize. For giving me a chance to make this right."

The massive car ate up the road quickly, and before long they pulled up to a human hospital near the territory borders. Leona stubbornly insisted on walking on her own two feet, fighting the pain, so Vance matched her slow pace as she limped toward the emergency entrance.

When she came back out, smelling of sterile antiseptics that masked her natural scent, she found him with his broad back to her, talking on his phone. The second his heightened senses picked up her approach, he hung up and walked straight over. "Here’s my number. Howl if you need anything at all."

"I don’t need anything else," Leona said politely, keeping her guard up and declining the card he held out. The accident was over, and she liked to keep things simple—no unnecessary messy ties with a dangerously powerful strange Alpha.

She paused, then held out his coat to him. "Here’s your coat. I’ll pay to have your scent washed out of it, of course."

Vance glanced at the coat in her hands, a soft, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You need it way more than I do right now."

His simple line warmed her chest all of a sudden, an unexpected comfort to her battered inner wolf. She wondered if she was just extra raw and mate-less today, to get this worked up over a stranger Alpha’s small kindness.

"Thank you, but I’m fine. I really need to go." She turned down his offer of further help—she had urgent matters waiting for her back at the Hansen pack house.

Vance watched her slender figure retreat down the sidewalk, the beast beneath his skin purring as a determined glint burned in his eyes. "We’ll meet again soon, little wolf."