CHAPTER THREE

ZEKE'S POV

I’m losing my mind.

Everything I ever dreamed of—her, my mate—is so damn close I can almost taste it, yet I can’t touch her. My fists clench at my sides as I stand frozen, the scent of my mate thick in the air like a drug I can’t reach. She’s somewhere in this cursed pack house. The whole place reeks of the people I hate most, and still, her fragrance cuts through it all—pure, delicate, maddening.

I want to run a truck straight through this hellhole and bury everyone in it. Every fake smile that greets us makes my blood boil. They act like we’re guests, like this isn’t the very place that tried to destroy everything we stand for.

I glance sideways at my brother. He wears his usual cool expression, but I know better. I grew up with him. We share blood, battles, secrets—and pain. Even before he could speak, I knew what he was thinking. His jaw ticks just slightly, fingers twitching at his side. The tension in him is a coiled spring. Yeah, he’s barely holding it together too.

"What are you still doing standing around?! My mate is somewhere in this blasted house and you’re here smiling away your time. What are you, crazy?! Switch with me!" Max, my wolf, thunders in my head.

He’s losing it. We both are.

Her scent isn’t just intoxicating—it’s tethered to every part of me. She’s the missing piece. The one we waited for, prayed for, bled for. And now she’s here, in the same building, yet still oceans apart.

Fate has a twisted sense of humor. This isn’t a fairytale—it’s a damn tragedy waiting to unfold.

Crazy bitch, she was dangling her in front of me like some sick joke.

I can’t take it anymore. Every second is a new level of hell. I can feel my logic slipping, my human mind fighting to stay afloat. But Max is stronger. My wolf has had enough.

I barely resist the urge to roar as I turn to my brother. His smug expression only infuriates me more.

"Don’t think with your wolf. Think with your brain," he says, calm as ever.

Too late.

My brain checked out ten minutes ago. All that remains is the searing ache of need and the echo of her scent in my lungs.

"Buddy, don’t let me down. Go. Take what you deserve," I whisper to myself.

And I let Max take over.

A surge of power rips through me as my wolf seizes control. The shift isn’t physical, but every part of me feels raw and alive.

I don’t wait. I run.

Behind me, chaos erupts. Shouts. Commands. Confusion.

"Catch him!!!"

Let them try.

I race down the hallway—past doors, past startled faces. None of it matters. Only the scent does. It leads me deeper, taunting, whispering, fading.

"Where the hell is she?!" Max growls.

We burst through another corridor. Empty. Still nothing. And then—

Gone.

"What’s going on?" Max’s voice is thick with desperation. "Her scent—it just vanished!"

A growl tears from my throat.

Then footsteps.

"Are you done?"

That voice.

I don’t need to look. My brother.

He walks toward me, hands in his pockets like he hasn’t a care in the world.

Sometimes, I seriously consider throwing him off a damn cliff. Now is definitely one of those times.

"Sometimes I wonder whether you’re just ignorant or stupid by choice. You never think," he says lazily.

I glare at him. Hard.

He sighs like he’s bored and strolls past me. With a swift kick, he blasts a wooden door at the end of the hallway into splinters.

But before we can step inside, a hand shoots out from the shadows and grabs him, yanking him back.

Wrong move.

I don’t hesitate.

I slam into the bastard who dared touch my brother. His grip breaks instantly, and I punch him—hard—again and again. Rage pours out of me like a flood.

How dare he?

Another punch.

He’s the Alpha’s son—Liam.

Doesn’t matter. He’s breathing, and that’s offense enough.

He tries to fight back, but I’m beyond mercy. My fists are a blur.

I hear people screaming in the background, footsteps rushing toward us. No one touches me. They know better.

"You think you can stop us from finding our mate?!" I roar.

My knuckles crack against his jaw. His blood splatters across the floor.

By the time I stand, he’s coughing on the ground, barely conscious.

"Don’t ever touch my brother again," I snarl.

My brother gives me a slow nod before we step past the shattered door.

And then—

Time stops.

We descend into the basement. The moment we reach the bottom step, it hits us.

Her scent.

Stronger than ever. Consuming. Overwhelming.

My knees nearly buckle.

There she is.

Lying on the cold stone floor, completely bare, her body trembling in the freezing air.

But around her—

Everything is scorched. Burned. As if fire had erupted from her soul. The walls are blackened. The floor cracked.

Yet her skin glows faintly. Her hair fans around her like a halo.

She’s breathtaking.

And broken.

I drop beside her, hands trembling as I remove my jacket and gently drape it over her.

She’s burning up.

But she’s shivering.

My chest tightens. Something ancient, primal, and protective rises inside me. I felt an urge to hold her in my arms and whisper into her ears that i loved and craved for her for some reason.

I lift her into my arms.

She feels so fragile. So light.

So light if not for her breathing on my chest and her intoxicating scent, i won't even notice i was carrying anything.

My heart cracks open. I can’t breathe.

"Zeke," my brother says quietly. "This… this wasn’t normal. Something is off."

I nod.

I don’t care if she’s fire or fury. She’s mine. But the prophecy echoes in the back of my mind like an alarm bell. No matter how much I try to ignore it, it’s still there.

I look down at her lips, slightly parted, her skin flushed with heat. Her scent surrounds me, cradles me, brands me.

I look up, eyes blazing.

"I swear," I growl, voice low and deadly, "no one will ever touch her again. No one will hurt her. I will protect her—until my last breath."

And I mean it.

With every broken, fiery piece of my soul.

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