BLUE HILL LUNA

CHAYSE'S POV

The Alpha was a possessive predator. I already knew that.

But I had a weakness—a tactical advantage that worked once. I would try it again.

I turned over on the massive bed, facing his perfectly sculpted, terrifyingly hard chest. His golden eyes were closed. His breathing was slow and steady.

I placed my hand on his rock-hard chest. I let my fingers trace his abdomen. His face, even in sleep, shifted. A breathless expression.

I hauled myself up and placed soft, deliberate kisses along his jawline. I moved down his throat, my lips dragging against his skin.

Very hard to do. But necessary.

The moment his throat rumbled—a soft, deep growl of pleasure—I knew I was winning. I focused my tongue on a specific spot. The growl deepened, a vibration I could feel through the bone.

I worked my way back up his neck, toward his chin. I waited for the grip around me to loosen.

It didn't.

'You didn't think you could fool our ,mate a second time, Chayse? Did you?'

Aria! I cursed my wolf. It's morning! Forgive my foolishness, but we have bigger problems.

The Alpha’s hand clamped onto the back of my head. He pulled my face toward his, stopping centimeters from his lips.

He chuckled. The sound confused me.

"You thought I was sleeping?" he laughed, his golden eyes flashing open. The gold was suddenly shot through with specks of light blue.

I stiffened, inhaling the stronger scent of mint.

"Oh, Little Mate, if I had stayed asleep through that, I would have to hate you."

He growled seductively. "You're wearing my shirt, Chayse."

His hand slid down my bare leg. My whole body shook. Aria was howling and purring like a housecat. I was frozen—a useless, trembling mess.

"You'd better change that before things get too out of hand."

He loosened his grip. That was the only invitation I needed.

I bolted.

I threw open the door and sprinted down a different hallway. Windows to my left! A chance!

I glanced down the side of the mansion. Four stories. I snarled under my breath. Who needed a four-story house? And who cleaned it?

I hit the main staircase. I flew down the steps toward the front door—and gasped.

He was waiting.

Alpha Laven stood there, arms open, his trademark smirk visible even from a mile away.

He didn't move fast. He simply grasped my waist, pulling me to his chest. His breath hit my neck. I went instantly limp.

"Little Mate, you're still wearing no pants, in my shirt, and you ran off," he whispered.

His grip tightened on my waist. I gasped at the pressure. Bruises were forming; I knew it. Just like my wrist.

I whimpered.

His eyes flashed regret. Shared hurt. Just like yesterday.

Then he lifted me, making me straddle his waist, and placed me gently on a plush couch. He leaned over me, examining me like a broken toy.

I rolled my eyes.

"Could you please give me a moment without physical contact?" I said, injecting a stern warning into my voice. "A free wolf like me would really like some time to run around and be the woman that I am."

He growled—a low, annoyed rumble—but he let me up. My waist finally got relief.

"I am going to work. Stay here." His tone was a command. "I have someone coming to take you around town."

He turned and ascended the stairs, back to his room.

I collapsed onto the couch. I vowed to never try the sexual manipulation trick again.

I lifted the shirt. Brown bruises, lined with red, were already forming on my sides. I frowned, but dealt with the sharp throb. Healing was already at work.

I went into the massive kitchen, which was conjoined with the living room. I needed sustenance.

I searched the cabinets. Above the toaster was a pumpkin bread. The most delicious thing my eyes had ever seen.

I couldn't reach it.

I climbed.

I hauled myself onto the polished white marble counter, then gripped the cabinet shelf. My foothold slipped. I tumbled backward, grabbing desperately at the cabinet door.

Snicker doodle! I cursed—a non-curse, but it felt strong.

I twisted in the air and landed hard on the floor. The cabinet door was ripped off its hinges, cushioning my fall.

I cringed. My wrist took the brunt of the impact. But my werewolf healing was already working, mending what was torn.

"Stupid cheap cabinets and such fancy counters! Curse the kitchen gods!" I muttered, standing up.

The light pitter-patter of feet came from the hallway. Not a man.

"Hey!"

I jumped, my senses kicking in.

A girl. Peppy. Excited. Just like Eliza.

"I'm Caroline, Luna," she said, her voice bright. "And I'm here to take you around town, buy you some clothes, and hang out for the day!"

I smiled, dropping the formality. "No need to call me Luna, Caroline. I prefer just my first name, Chayse."

She leaned forward, conspiratorial. "Meet me outside once you've gotten dressed."

She ran to the front door, threw it open, and sat on the porch step.

I shrugged. I headed upstairs to the second closet. I picked out a simple outfit—a defense against the dress code. I pulled on my white Converse and went outside.

When Caroline saw me, she bolted, taking off across the lawn and expecting me to follow.

Running. Finally, a chance to be a free wolf.

But as I chased her across the massive lawn, I realized something critical.

We were not running out.

We were running further in. The Blood Moon territory stretched further than I imagined, and there were no visible fences, no walls, and no escape routes.

And then I saw it: a tiny, silver-lined bracelet on Caroline’s wrist. A marker. A tracker.

I wasn't being shown the town. I was being tested.