Chapter 1Thalia's POV
"Please—Silas—stop—"
One hand gripped my throat while the other pressed against the steering wheel.
On the rain-slicked highway, the speedometer needle climbed insanely—120, 140, 160—
"You can't escape, baby," he whispered in my ear. "You'll never escape."
"Let go! You're going to kill us—"
"Then we'll die together."
He wrenched the wheel hard.
The world began to spin—the piercing screech of tires tearing through the rain-soaked night—
I jolted awake.
Deep breath. You're free. Silas—that psycho ex of yours—you successfully escaped him two months ago.
Just then, I turned toward the actual source of the noise—and my heart stops.
A dark gray van careened out of control at the intersection, heading straight for a little boy frozen in the middle of the road.
No.
My body reacted faster than my brain.
I burst through the café door.
But the distance was too far. There wasn't enough time.
Suddenly, a man launches himself into the road and shoves the boy clear—
Right then—
BANG.
The van slams into him, sending his body flying through the air.
My stomach lurches. I'm frozen in place, horrified.
Screaming fills the air and breaks me from my stupor.
The boy's mother rushed to his side.
But where's the man who saved him?
Panic floods me—irrational, overwhelming.
I force my legs to move, scanning desperately for where he landed.
Oh God, no.
My blood runs cold.
He's floating face-down in the water, arms spread wide, completely still.
Shit.
I kick off my shoes, yank off my hoodie and shirt, and dive.
The shock of icy water steals my breath, but I don't stop—I force myself to swim harder.
Come on. Don't you dare die on me.
When I finally reach him, I grab his shoulders and flip him over.
His face is deathly pale.
Gritting my teeth, I dragged him toward shore.
He's heavy and slippery.
By the time I hauled him onto the bank, I was completely exhausted.
I collapsed on my knees beside him, sharp stones digging into my bare skin, but I'm too numb from the cold to feel it.
A few bystanders watch from above, frozen in horror, but no one comes to help.
Maybe they think he's already dead.
But I refuse to believe it.
I don't know why, but the thought of him dying makes my own heart feel like it might stop beating.
I have to at least try.
I press my fingers to his neck—Nothing.
I lean down close to check for breath—Nothing.
"No, no, no—"
I start CPR immediately, pushing hard and fast on his chest.
Sirens wail in the distance.
Suddenly someone drops to their knees beside me, grabbing the man's shoulder.
"Grayson! Jesus, this can't be happening—"
So his name is Grayson.
Before I can respond, Grayson's body convulses violently.
He chokes, water exploding from his mouth as his lungs expel the river.
He's alive.
Relief hits me so hard my hands shake.
I quickly roll him onto his side, letting the water drain. "You're going to be okay," I whisper.
His eyelids flutter—
And then they open.
The moment our gazes lock, something suddenly slams into my chest.
What just happened... I can barely breathe.
"Move! Please move aside!"
Paramedics rush in, and a pair of strong hands pull me back.
The spell breaks.
I glance over my shoulder—meeting a pair of bright blue eyes.
"Thank you for saving Grayson." His gaze sweeps over me. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.
The adrenaline crashes. My body starts shaking violently, and my legs give out.
"Are you okay?" His frown deepens before he scoops me up effortlessly.
I collapse weakly in his arms as he carries me straight toward the ambulance.
Just then, a deep rumble reaches us, sounding almost like a growl.
His head snaps up toward his friend, then back to me, eyes narrowed in confusion.
"What the hell..."
He carefully sets me down on another waiting stretcher, then cups my face in both hands, leaning in close.
A lock of messy blonde hair falls across his forehead, and those impossibly blue eyes lock onto mine.
"If it weren't for you, the Alp—ah, Grayson would be dead." His voice cracks slightly. "I don't even know what to say... Thank you again."
I manage to grip his hand weakly. "Is he... going to be okay?"
Please say yes.
Please. As if my next breath depends on his answer.
"He'll be okay." He squeezes my hand once, gives me a quick wink, then sprints toward Grayson's ambulance and jumps inside before the doors slam shut.
As the ambulance pulls away with sirens blaring, the last thing I see is the crowd gathered behind us—
At least fifty people.
Every single phone pointed at me.
Shit.
I spent two months finding a place to hide and start over—and now Silas only needs one viral video to find me.
I can already see tomorrow's headlines—
I'm so fucked.
Chapter 2
Thalia's POV
I wake to harsh fluorescent lights burning into my skull.
When I realize where I am, I groan and throw my arm over my face.
Fuck.
This is the last thing I need—showing up in hospital or police records.
"Welcome back. Headache?" My nurse appears beside me, holding out painkillers and water.
"Yeah." I sit up slowly, pulling the thin hospital blanket around myself.
"How are you feeling? You've been out for a few hours." She takes my pulse, wheels over the blood pressure monitor.
"Like an idiot," I swallow the pills, "I'm fine. I shouldn't even be here."
"You were in shock and nearly hypothermic when they brought you in. You must be exhausted. We'll keep you here overnight just to be on the safe side. Anyone you need me to call for you?"
I pause for a second before shaking my head.
"No, I've just moved to town, and I'll be home again before my parents can even get here," I answer.
She pats my arm reassuringly after finishing all her checks before quietly leaving me alone in the room.
My thoughts immediately turn to Grayson and my gut clenches as I wonder how he is doing.
Is he alive?
Christ, Thalia—get a grip.
Why the hell do I even care this much?
I should have asked the nurse when I had the chance.
There's no other hospital within a two-hour drive—if he made it, he's here.
That's one of the reasons I picked this town.
Small. Remote.
The exact opposite of the city I'd spent the last eight years in.
Just as I start wondering if he's still alive, a sharp pain twists in my chest.
Maybe it's normal to feel this connected to someone after a traumatic event, but this feels... dramatic.
I'm usually pretty level-headed, but panic rises every time I replay the scene in my mind.
I don't know him.
But the memory of that moment—when his eyes opened and locked onto mine—won't leave me alone.
It felt like being struck by lightning.
Which is insane.
I'm not the type to believe in love at first sight. I'm not even the type to believe in love, period—not after Silas.
A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.
A familiar pair of blue eyes peer around the doorframe.
It's him—my handsome helper from the scene of the accident.
"Can I come in?" he asks, pushing the door open wider.
"Sure, come on in," I say.
He smiles brightly, shutting the door gently behind him and crossing the room in two long strides.
Oh.
I didn't notice at the river, but this man is gorgeous.
Jaw-length dark blonde hair, tanned skin, strong jawline.
Tall and built like he could carry me with one arm—which, to be fair, he did.
I'm usually a tall-dark-and-handsome kind of girl, but even I can't deny how attractive he is.
"How are you feeling?" His tone is serious, like he's genuinely concerned.
"Oh, I'm fine!" I wave a hand dismissively. "They're just keeping me overnight as a precaution."
He frowns, like he doesn't entirely believe me.
"How is your friend?" I ask, keen to divert the attention away from myself.
I'm almost afraid to hear the answer.
He doesn't speak right away. Just stares at me intently—like he's trying to read the depths of my mind.
The urge to look away is strong, but I hold out and cock an eyebrow at him, keen to know one way or the other.
I get the impression that he is deciding what to tell me.
Maybe he's worried about breaking bad news to me? I'm nauseous at the thought.
Finally, he speaks.
"Grayson's alive."
"But he's pretty banged up," he continues. "Surgery for internal injuries. Multiple broken bones. Lots of stitches. But—" He pauses, "By some miracle, they think he'll make a full recovery."
"Thank fuck!"
Relief crashes over me so hard my vision blurs.
I drop my head back against the pillows, tears prick my eyes and I wipe them away quickly, embarrassed.
Stop it. You're being ridiculous.
"Sorry—I just... I wasn't sure he'd make it."
He studies me again, like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve.
Then he nods and smiles.
"I just wanted to stop by and thank you." The sincerity in his eyes is almost overwhelming.
"If you hadn't done what you did, he would have drowned. If you need anything—anything—please let me know. We are forever in your debt, Thalia."
We.
Who's we?
Does Grayson have a girlfriend? A wife?
The thought sends a sharp, irrational pang through my chest.
Stop. It. You don't even know him.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
He reaches out and presses a folded piece of paper into my palm—his name and number scrawled across it.
"You can reach me anytime."
"Uh, thanks..." I glance down at the paper. "...Darian."
He nods once more—then practically flees out the door.
Odd.
I stare at the closed door.
Was he thanking me? Or was he hitting on me?
Surely a man that good-looking isn't shy around women.
Unless—
I replay the look in his eyes.
Like he was afraid one wrong glance would get him in trouble.
But I'm not dangerous.
So what the hell is he scared of?
Chapter 3
Grayson's POV
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The slow, steady noise drags me from sleep into what feels like the worst hangover of my life.
I open my eyes slowly. Hospital bed. White ceiling. Fluorescent lights.
I try to sit up—
Fuck.
Sharp, stabbing pain explodes in my stomach.
I collapse back onto the bed.
I try to move my arms. My legs.
Agony.
Every inch of me hurts.
I growl to myself, hating this feeling of weakness. So much for accelerated healing.
It's not kicking in nearly as fast as I'd like.
As a wolf shifter—a future Alpha—I pride myself on being strong. Nearly indestructible.
I guess a speeding van is the exception.
"You're going to be a terrible patient, aren't you?" My sister Aurora stands in the doorway with her hand on her hip, chuckling to herself.
I ignore her and close my eyes tight against the pain.
She lifts the chart at the end of the bed and scans down over it, dark brows pulled together in a frown as she switches from annoying sister into serious doctor mode.
"Dislocated shoulder, broken collarbone, arm, wrist, broken ribs, ruptured spleen......"
I wish she'd stop.
I can already tell that I'm a mess going by how much it hurts.
When she finishes rattling off the seemingly endless list of injuries, she shakes her head, dark chestnut hair falling over her shoulders. Whistles softly.
"You were very lucky." Her voice wobbles. "This would be enough to kill most people. Even you, Grayson. If that girl hadn't dragged you out of the river..." She blinks hard. "I can't even think about it."
She keeps talking to me—lecturing me, really—about what a close call this was.
But I've stopped listening.
As soon as she mentioned the girl, flashbacks start running through my mind.
Not the damn accident.Something else.
My wolf is screaming at me.Something too important to forget.
That amazing scent that I smelled just before the crash.
I can remember it vividly. My mouth waters just thinking about it.
The tingles I felt all over my face and body as she gently touched me.
The feeling of calm that washed over me despite my pain as she whispered in my ear, her warm breath on my neck.
My mate.
She was there.
Another flashback—long tanned legs, toned stomach, drops of water running down her slender neck into a tight sports bra. A curtain of long, wavy, wet hair hiding her face from view.
Then a much less pleasant image—her cradled in Darian's arms, her face buried in his shoulder, her hand resting on his chest.
I clench my fists tight and grit my teeth, a growl building in my chest.
"Grayson? What the hell was that? Are you in pain?" Aurora looks at me with concern.
The heart monitor beeps rapidly. My blood pressure shoots up.
The thought of another man having his hands on her makes my blood boil. Jealousy unlike anything I've ever experienced flares up inside me.
I've heard stories about the possessiveness that comes with finding your mate—but this intensity is shocking.
I need to find her.
Agitated, I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the metal hospital bed, ignoring the searing pain in my abdomen where I have probably pulled open some stitches.
Dark spots appear in front of my eyes, making my head swim and my vision cloudy.
I grab at the tubes and wires attached to my arms and chest, trying to rip them out.
Find her. Now.
It's a primal need like nothing I've ever known. The thought repeats over and over as my wolf pushes me to keep moving.
"Jesus Christ, Grayson! What are you doing?" Aurora shouts. She bolts for the door to get help.
I don't care.
They won't stop me.
What if she's hurt? What if nobody knows who she is? What if I never see her again?
My wolf lunges for the surface, urging me forward despite the dizziness making the room spin.
I push up onto my feet, grabbing the bed railing for support. My knees tremble slightly.
Only then do I notice the cast on my leg up to my knee.
I reach down and start pulling chunks of plaster away.
"Woah, hold up Grayson." Darian rushes through the door and grabs my arm, trying to stop me while simultaneously turning me back toward the bed.
Then I smell it.
I'd recognize it anywhere now.
Her.
That delicious scent that makes my heart soar.
But it's all wrong.
It's on Darian.
I can smell her on him—and the scent is recent.
In a split second, I pivot and grab him by the front of his shirt with both hands, shoving him hard against the wall. I pin him in place with a forearm across his throat.
"Where is she?"
