Chapter Two

Wolf

After leading us to the furthest corner of the diner, she slides into her seat, casually gesturing for me to do the same across from her. I hesitate for a moment, turning my head to peer over my shoulder. The wary eyes of the other patrons linger, each sizing me up like I’m some mountain man—a drifter who has no place sitting down with the princess of Sitka. Which to be fair, I am. The thought makes me smirk nonetheless. They don’t understand, and frankly, they don’t need to.

I shift my gaze to the window on my left, relieved we’re sitting by it and not crammed into some dingy corner on the other side of the diner. I’ve never done well with tight spaces; they mess with my head, stir up memories from a past I’d rather forget. Those memories are like a mudslide—once you start digging, everything comes crashing down, and I’ve long since run out of tears for that mess.

“So, do I look a bit better?” I finally ask, breaking the silence. Her lips twitch into a slight grin as her eyes rake over me.

"It’s an improvement,” she says with a casual shrug, but there's an unmistakable hint of sass in her tone.

I couldn’t do much about the clothing, but I found a tap out back and scrubbed my face, ran my fingers through my hair. It’s the best I can manage for now.

“Okay, so now what?” I ask, crossing my arms with a furrowed brow, unsure of what exactly comes next in this strange encounter.

She raises a brow, her wolf swirling behind her eyes for just a fleeting second before she answers, “Well, first off, my name is Sasha.” 

There’s something in the way she says it—a kind of confidence that makes me sit up straighter, a sense that she’s someone not to be messed with. But beneath that, I can see her curiosity, maybe even a bit of interest. 

Sasha. Even her name sounds like trouble, the kind I shouldn’t be getting mixed up in. And yet, here I am.

I can’t understand why she’s chosen to sit here with me when she could be surrounded by any one of the clean-cut, polished guys from her own pack. But the fact that she’s here makes the wolf inside me stir.

“Well, hello, Sasha. Thank you for inviting me to lunch,” I say, and immediately I cringe inside at how formal that sounds. It’s ridiculous, given the situation, but she only smiles softly, like I’m not the biggest loser sitting across from her.

“So, what do you feel like having?” she asks, lifting the menu between us. The question pulls me back from the edge of my thoughts. She studies the menu with such focus that it makes me grin. Leaning in closer, my voice drops low, almost like a growl that I know will get her attention.

“I’m pretty sure you know everything on that menu by heart, princess. How about you tell me what you recommend?” My eyes narrow teasingly, testing the waters.

She blinks, caught off guard for a second, before lowering the menu to meet my gaze. A teasing smile plays at her lips, but there’s that look in her eyes again—the one that makes my wolf snap to attention. There’s something in those emerald green depths I can’t quite place, something wild, dangerous, and it pulls me in. She’s not just a princess; she’s something more. And the wolf in me can’t resist it.

Sasha breaks eye contact, lowering the menu. I catch the subtle rise and fall of her chest, hear the fluttering rhythm of her heartbeat. Am I making her nervous? That thought alone makes my wolf stir even more.

Her gaze shifts, focusing on something behind me. I sense the presence before I see it—a waitress hovering just out of view. It takes only a couple of seconds before she appears beside our booth, as if she’s been waiting for this moment. But all the while, I keep my eyes on Sasha, captivated by how her scent keeps wrapping around me, awakening something primal inside. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, but the way my wolf reacts to her, he’s ready to pounce right here and now.

Get a grip, Wolf. This girl is way out of your league.

“Oh hey, honey, having the usual?” The waitress greets Sasha with a warm smile before glancing at me. Her expression shifts instantly, curiosity mixing with something else—discomfort, maybe—as she sizes me up. Without even trying, her nose wrinkles, as if I’m some unwanted stray that’s wandered in off the street.

I can’t say I blame her. I’m dressed like a hobo who’s seen better days—clothes too tight, unshaven, smelling like I’ve just crawled out of the woods. Well, technically, I have. I’ve spent the last few weeks holed up in a cave, dodging rogues who’d love nothing more than to tear me apart. 

And now, here I am, sitting across from this princess like I belong, while the waitress stares at me like I don’t.

Having the alpha’s daughter sitting across from me, in public, is a first. The weight of curious eyes bears down on us from all corners of the diner. The tension in the air thickens with every second, but I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms, narrowing my eyes as I study her intently. What’s her game? What does she want? There’s something in those emerald eyes of hers—something she’s not revealing—but I can’t figure it out.

Then, with a sudden burst of confidence, I think, why the fuck not? Let’s give these people something to talk about. If I’m going to sit here with the princess of Sitka, I might as well enjoy one brief moment of my life, right?

“Um, actually, Kathy, I was thinking of having the seared steak with fries, a large chocolate milkshake, and a side salad,” Sasha says, her voice calm and steady, though her eyes flicker with mischief as she glances at me. Then, without missing a beat, she adds, “Two of those, please, Kathy.”

A wicked grin tugs at my lips, though I quickly shove down the thoughts racing through my head—thoughts about this girl that would definitely get me killed if I let them out. The waitress, Kathy, nods, her face a mask of uncertainty as she gives me another suspicious glance before heading toward the kitchen. I scoff under my breath, feeling the weight of the situation sink in. 

This probably wasn’t the best idea. Hell, it’s likely the worst idea I’ve had in a long time. But the problem is, even if I wanted to walk away, I can’t. My wolf won’t let me. He’s got me rooted to the spot, tethered to her in a way I don’t fully understand. It’s like he’s latched onto her, unwilling to let go.

Damn it. I furrow my brows, trying to push that thought away. There’s no way this is going anywhere. We’re from two completely different worlds—she’s the alpha’s daughter, and I’m... well, whatever the hell I am.

Clearing my throat, I shift my thoughts back to the waitress and her reaction to me. With a sigh, I let out a dry chuckle. “Are all the people in Sitka as pleasant as that waitress?” I smirk, but the moment Sasha’s eyes meet mine, a strange sensation rolls through me, like my skin is tingling from the inside out. What the fuck? I try to look away, but my wolf is already stirring, getting ideas that are bound to end badly. ‘She’s an alpha’s daughter, dumb ass,’ I scold the beast inside, but he’s not listening. He’s already fixated on her, on the way her gaze holds mine, on the subtle curve of her lips. This girl is the worst kind of trouble I could ever get mixed up in.

But Sasha doesn’t even flinch. Her eyes stay locked on mine, her pupils dilating slightly as the green in her irises swirl with something deep, something that makes my heart skip a beat. 

“Kathy isn’t so bad; she’s just looking out for my well-being. I’m the alpha’s only daughter, and constantly under the microscope around here,” she retorts, sarcasm dripping from her voice, followed by an eye roll that speaks volumes.

I raise an eyebrow at her, leaning back in my seat. “Must be nice having so many people looking out for you all the time,” I tease, half expecting her to laugh it off.

“Try suffocating,” she mutters with a sigh, and there it is again—that same flicker I saw outside the diner when I called her daddy’s little princess. It’s not just annoyance; there’s something deeper, something more complicated than just pack politics or family dynamics. The silence between us stretches as I try to figure her out. 

In a lame attempt to break the tension, I blurt out, “It can’t be all that bad. If one of the perks is free food, how bad can it really be?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to punch myself. Seriously, Wolf? Free food? That’s the best you’ve got?’ I internally groan, cursing my inability to keep up with her sharp wit.

Sasha’s smirk fades, and she breaks eye contact, her fingers fidgeting slightly, her brows pulling together in a way that makes me wonder what I’ve just touched on. It’s not just about the food or her father—there’s something beneath the surface. She’s uncomfortable now, like she’s holding back something. After a pause, she forces a bright, practiced smile, her expression shifting as if she’s putting up a wall.

“So, tell me a bit about you,” she says, her voice lighter, but her eyes still searching mine. “Where exactly are you from?”

Gutsy move. She’s turned the tables on me in an instant, and I wasn’t ready for it. I grimace, caught off guard, and for a moment, I’m scrambling to find the right words. My past isn’t exactly something I like to discuss, and the idea of opening up to someone like her—a girl who seems to have it all, despite her complaints about suffocation—feels dangerous.

My mind races for something, anything that doesn’t sound as pathetic as my last comment. But the truth is, no matter what I say, this girl might just be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever encountered—and I’ve faced some real monsters.

Letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, I run a hand through my unruly hair, buying myself a moment as I look out the window. I’m trying desperately to come up with some bullshit reply that’ll get me off the hook. I could say my parents were a couple of badass rogues, that I had a picture-perfect childhood with two brothers and three sisters. But that would be a lie, and what would be the point? My fate was written in the stars long before I had any say in the matter.

“Well, I’m a rogue, so…” I shrug, letting my voice trail off. That should be enough. She shouldn’t want to dig any further. Right? Wrong. I can see in her eyes that she takes my casual response as an open invitation to keep prodding. Of course she does.

“Just a rogue? That’s a little vague, don’t you think?” she presses, leaning forward, her curiosity piqued. The way her eyes glimmer with interest makes my heart race. It’s like she’s trying to unravel me, layer by layer, and I can’t decide if I want to let her in or keep my distance.

“Yeah, vague is my specialty,” I retort, trying to keep my tone light even as the weight of my past looms overhead. But she doesn’t back down, and for a moment, I’m caught between wanting to spill everything and protecting the fragile barrier I’ve built around myself.

“C’mon,” she challenges, tilting her head slightly. “You can do better than that. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?”

There’s something almost intoxicating about her persistence. It tempts me to share, to connect, but I know that vulnerability is a dangerous game, especially with someone like her. Yet the way she looks at me, that glimmer of understanding in her gaze, makes me wonder if maybe—just maybe—this time could be different. But as I open my mouth to speak, I can already feel the shadows of my past creeping back in. The truth isn’t pretty, and I’m not sure I’m ready to face it, let alone share it with her.

“Being a rogue means you don’t have a place to call home, Wolf. It doesn’t mean you didn’t come from somewhere; it’s not like you fell out of the sky,” she says, emphasizing her words with a lift of her hand before dropping it to the table. Her sharp wit draws a dry chuckle from my chest. Any sane person would recognize the trouble this girl could bring into their life and get up and leave. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m too captivated by her. Something about Sasha has my beast in a trance. Sure, she’s drop-dead gorgeous, but it’s more than that—it’s something deeper, something I can’t quite put my finger on. I force myself to look back out the window, reminding myself that nothing good can come from this.

“Well, I can’t tell you because, truthfully, I don’t know,” I finally admit. There’s a pause, and I turn back to face her.

“You don’t know where you’re from? How’s that even possible? Did you hit your head and suffer amnesia or something?” she asks, her voice laced with disbelief.

“Or something,” I retort with a smirk, watching as curiosity and confusion flicker in her eyes. I know she’s not about to let this go, and she’s just about to press me for more when, by some miracle, the waitress arrives with our food. 

“Okay, and what about a name? I can't very well call you ‘rogue’ now, can I?” I smirk, trying to lighten the tension that hangs in the air like a storm cloud.

“It’s Wolf,” I reply, watching her blink in surprise. “Just Wolf.”

She nods slowly, processing it. “No last name?”

I shake my head. “Nope, just Wolf.” Her eyes narrow, suspicion flaring within those vibrant green depths.

“Well, just Wolf, it’s nice to meet you,” she says, her tone both wary and intrigued. 

And there it is again—a flicker of her wolf showing in her irises, a glimmer of something primal and fierce that calls to my own. It's almost as if she’s testing the waters, gauging just how much of this chaos we can navigate together.

Before my thoughts can linger any longer, the waitress pops up at our table. Sasha looks up at her with a forced smile, the tension in the air thickening as she tries to mask the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. The moment feels suspended, a fragile equilibrium hanging by a thread, and I can’t shake the feeling that whatever comes next will change everything.

“Here you go, one seared steak with fries and a large chocolate milkshake for each of you,” she says, setting the plates down in front of us, the aroma wafting up and temporarily distracting me from the conversation. “Anything else I can get you?”

“No, thanks, Kathy,” Sasha replies, her tone brightening as she glances at the spread before us.

I can’t help but grin as I take in the meal. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special,” I tease, lifting my fork and digging into the steak. It’s tender and juicy, and I can’t remember the last time I had a meal this good. 

As I chew, I glance back at Sasha. She’s already halfway through her milkshake, eyes closed in bliss. “This is amazing,” she mumbles, and I chuckle at how genuinely happy she seems. It’s infectious, and for the first time in ages, I feel a sense of ease wash over me.

But even as I savor the moment, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m teetering on the edge of something monumental—something that could either lift me up or drag me down. I steal another glance at her, and I realize that this girl is more than just a distraction; she’s a storm brewing on the horizon, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the chaos she might bring.

“Oh, the rogue knows how to use a knife and fork; all hope can’t be lost then,” she says, her sharp humor lighting a spark in my eyes. My beast stirs, more awake and interested than he’s been in a long time. I think he likes her—a little too much, if I’m honest. But can I blame him? Sasha is different from any she-wolf I’ve ever met.

I must have let something slip because suddenly, her wolf responds to mine, her eyes flickering with golden flecks that dance across the green, pulling me in deeper. It’s like staring into the sun—too painful to look, yet impossible to turn away.

And then, as if to test my already fragile self-control, she bites down on her bottom lip. My eyes zero in on those plump, pink lips, and my body reacts instantly. My dick twitches painfully against the rough fabric of my jeans, and I have to swallow hard, my Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as I try to steady myself.

This is dangerous—no, this is deadly. I’m playing with fire, and I’m not sure if I want to stop.

I’m the first to break eye contact, looking down at the piece of steak on my plate. I start slicing through it, but as hungry as I am, it’s not the meat that has my stomach rumbling anymore—it’s something else entirely. Smiling to myself, I lift a chunk of steak to my mouth. I remind myself that I’m a rogue, a nobody, and the smart move would be to keep my distance from this girl. She’s the kind of trouble that could easily get me killed.

But peace is a fleeting thing, especially in my world. Just as I’m starting to relax, two guys appear beside our booth. I don’t look up immediately; instead, I keep my eyes on my plate, hoping to avoid the trouble I know is coming. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that these guys aren’t here to say hi.

“Sam, what are you doing here, with…” The guy’s voice is low and annoyed. He turns his head to look at me, irritation clear on his face. A low growl escapes his throat, and my ears perk up at the name he uses. Sam? Did he just call her Sam? “Who the hell is this guy?” he grumbles, glaring back at her.

I slowly lift my gaze to meet his, taking in his face—a face that practically begs to be punched. It’s one of those faces that screams, “Hit me, I dare you.” But instead of giving in to the urge, I manage to smile as I swallow the last bite of steak.

“I’m Wolf,” I say confidently, meeting his gaze head-on. “And yes, it’s just Wolf.” The smug smile I give him seems to throw him off for a moment, and I can see the confusion in his eyes as he blinks, trying to process my response. He turns his attention back to Sasha, growling again, clearly trying to assert some sort of dominance.

“Seriously, Sam? You’re hanging out with a rogue?” he sneers, and the disdain in his voice is thick enough to cut through the air. The other guy beside him crosses his arms, looking equally unimpressed. 

A small chuckle escapes my chest before I can stop it. Is he seriously trying to intimidate me? I must have a death wish or something because instead of backing down, I raise an eyebrow at him in a way that challenges him to do something about it.

He glares harder, his growl deepening, but I can’t help it—I’m not scared of him. Not one bit. What the fuck has gotten into me? Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or maybe it’s the way Sasha’s presence has my wolf on edge, but whatever it is, I’m not backing down. Not today.

“Well, Wolf, this is my little sister, and she definitely has no business hanging out with someone like you,” he snarls, his tone dripping with disdain. The hostility in his voice makes my wolf bristle, but I keep my cool, taking a deep breath and grinning. I turn my gaze to Sasha—no, Sam—who’s looking back at me with apologetic green eyes.

Her expression says it all: I didn’t ask for this. And somehow, that only makes me want to protect her more. This isn’t just a family squabble; this is a territory dispute, and I’m the outsider. Yet, as I lock eyes with her, I can see the fire burning within those emerald depths, daring me to fight against the odds.

“Let’s not pretend we’re living in a fairy tale, man,” I reply, my voice steady, trying to keep it light even as the tension thickens around us. “Your sister can hang out with whoever she wants. Right?” I shoot her a look, hoping she’ll back me up.

The slight curve of her lips gives me a glimmer of hope, but before she can respond, he steps closer, leaning over the table, invading my space. His breath stinks of arrogance and cheap cologne, and I can feel my wolf shift uneasily inside me.

“I don’t think you understand your place, Wolf,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t your world. You don’t belong here.”

I hold my ground, refusing to flinch. Let’s see how far you’re willing to take this. But before I can say anything else, Sasha interjects.

“Stop it! Both of you,” she snaps, her voice sharp and commanding. The authority in her tone surprises us both. His expression flickers momentarily, and I can sense the shift in the air.

“Sam— You’re supposed to be at home!” he huffs, clearly flustered.

“I’m not a child anymore,” she retorts, her green eyes blazing with defiance. “I can make my own decisions, and I choose to be here. With him.”

And just like that, the tension escalates. I can feel the weight of their familial conflict, the threads of their bond woven tightly together, and I’m the knot trying to unravel it. All I can do is stay alert, waiting for the fallout. Because I know one thing for sure: once the dust settles, I might just end up paying the price.

He narrows his eyes at her, smirking with a disapproving shake of his head. “You shouldn’t be here, Sam; you know the rules.” His voice drops as he leans in closer, a hint of authority lacing his words. “And definitely not with the likes of a rogue.”

“I would agree with you on that point,” I say, leaning back in my seat with a casual shrug. “I mean, just look at me. But your sister was kind enough to offer a passing stranger a warm meal before he went on his way.” I keep my voice calm, almost indifferent, as if this whole situation doesn’t bother me one bit.

He turns to her, scoffing in disbelief. “This true, Sam? You feeding strays now?” There it is again—that name. Sam. But she told me her name was Sasha. What the hell is going on here?

Sasha—Sam—rolls her eyes, clearly fed up with his overbearing attitude. “Jeez, are you always going to be the big bad wolf, Don? Why does it matter who I sit down and have lunch with?” She snaps at him, pushing her plate away in frustration. There’s that alpha princess attitude—she’s not used to being told what to do, and it shows.

“Yes, Sam. I’ll keep telling you what to do until you get it into your head that you can’t just do whatever the hell you want,” Don retorts, his voice rising with authority. “You know what you are, and it’s about time you learn your goddamn place, which is at home, where it’s safe.”

She glares at him, her eyes blazing with defiance. And maybe it’s because I’ve got a death wish, or maybe it’s because my wolf can’t stand the way this guy is talking to her, but before I know it, a low, deep growl reverberates through my chest. The sound surprises even me, and I feel my wolf right at the surface, ready to tear this guy apart. My eyes lock onto Don’s, and the message is clear.

Mine.

The word echoes in my mind, and it’s like a switch flips inside me. I know it’s reckless, I know it’s dangerous, but I can’t help it. My wolf has claimed her, and there’s no going back from that. Don’s eyes widen for a split second, taken aback by the sheer intensity of my growl, but he quickly recovers, his own wolf rising to the challenge.

“Careful, rogue,” he warns, his voice a low, menacing rumble. 

I let out a humorless laugh, my eyes narrowing as I lean forward slightly, my voice dripping with defiance. “Maybe not. But I’m not the one who should be worried right now.” 

The tension between us crackles like electricity, the air thick with the unspoken threat hanging between us. I’m on the verge of something dangerous, something that could end in bloodshed, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not when it comes to her.

“Don, back off,” Sasha snaps, her voice steady but laced with urgency. The fire in her eyes shifts to something softer, a plea hidden beneath layers of irritation and frustration.

“No, Sam. You don’t understand,” he replies, his tone softer but no less fierce. “This isn’t just about you. It’s about all of us.”

I can see the conflicting emotions wrestling within her, and it only fuels my determination. She doesn’t need to be protected like some fragile thing; she’s fierce, capable of holding her own. But even so, I can’t shake the feeling that I need to stand by her side, to shield her from whatever threat Don represents.

“Let her decide,” I say, keeping my voice even. “She’s not a child, and she doesn’t need you to fight her battles for her.”

Don’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he might just launch at me. The atmosphere feels charged, ready to explode, but Sasha steps between us, her hands raised.

“Enough!” she demands, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “I can handle this.”

Her words resonate through me, a spark igniting the recognition that she’s not just some alpha’s daughter; she’s a force to be reckoned with.

But as I look into her fierce green eyes, I realize I’ve already chosen my side. Whether she wants me to or not, I’m in this fight with her, and I’m ready to face whatever comes next.

The weight of Don’s glare, combined with the low growl still reverberating through my chest, has the entire diner frozen in place. His eyes widen for a split second, clearly taken aback by my audacity. The air is thick, charged with the kind of tension that could snap at any moment. My wolf is on the edge, ready to pounce, driven by the intoxicating scent of the girl sitting quietly beside us.

“You would dare growl at me, rogue?” Don sneers, his voice low and dripping with contempt. “You don’t value what little life you have left, do you?” The diner has gone completely silent; all eyes are on us. I can see his wolf staring back at me through his eyes, challenging me, daring me to make a move. My beast, however, is too far gone, too consumed by this girl—Sasha, Sam, whatever her name is—to care about the consequences.

I’m prepared for a showdown right here in the middle of this greasy diner when suddenly, arms wrap around Don, pulling him back. It’s the other guy, the one who’s been standing just behind him this whole time. “Come on, Don, what are you doing? Are you insane? Not here. Take him back to the packhouse and let your father deal with him,” the guy hisses, low enough that only we can hear.

All the while, Sasha—or Sam—sits wide-eyed and dead silent, not saying a word. She knows her brother is on the verge of losing it, and I’m not too far behind him. The situation is spiraling out of control, and we both know it.

“Don, just let it go, please,” she finally pleads, her voice soft but urgent. The tension in her voice tugs at something deep inside me, but I force myself to stay focused. The diner is packed, and while the humans here might just see a couple of guys having a disagreement, we’re on the brink of exposing something much darker and far more dangerous. And that’s something our kind can’t afford.

Don takes a deep breath, visibly reigning in his wolf. It’s impressive, honestly. The ability to control a wolf when it’s that close to the surface isn’t something everyone can do. But Don’s an alpha’s son, probably the eldest, and he’s been trained to handle situations like this his whole life. He’s used to being in control, used to being obeyed.

“Fine,” Don snaps, turning to his sister. “But he comes with us, back to the pack, now.”

Wait, what!?

My eyes dart from her to him and back again, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened. She nods solemnly, her eyes filled with something I can’t quite place—regret, maybe? Or is it something else entirely? Whatever it is, it’s clear she’s made up her mind.

“Wait, hold up,” I say, narrowing my eyes as I look directly at her. “I’m not going anywhere with you, not either of you.” My voice is firm, leaving no room for argument, but the look in her eyes tells me this isn’t up for debate. I knew this girl was trouble from the moment I laid eyes on her, but this? Being dragged back to her pack? That’s a nightmare I’m not prepared to face.

Sasha's eyes widen, a pleading look crossing her face. There’s desperation in her gaze that pulls at something inside me, something I can’t quite name. 

Don smirks, his confidence radiating like heat. “You don't have a choice, rogue. You can either come willingly or be dragged out—your choice.”

My wolf narrows its eyes at the taunt, my jaw clenching in response. This is bullshit. The creature within me still rumbles, protective of her for reasons I don’t fully understand. It’s infuriating, this sense of obligation.

“Fine, let’s get this over and done with,” I grit out, every word laced with frustration. What the fuck am I doing?

I push up from my half-eaten plate of food, anger simmering just beneath the surface. As I start heading toward the door with Don and the other guy, I can feel Sasha trailing behind, her presence a mix of comfort and chaos. 

This is going to be a fuckup, I can’t just tell. But as I step outside, the weight of the unknown presses down on me, and I can’t shake the feeling that this is only the beginning.