The Alpha's Primal Claim

I raced down the corridor on four paws, my wolf's instincts fully in control. The sensation was exhilarating—power coursed through my muscles as I moved with a fluid grace I'd never experienced in human form. Jaxon's scent trail was sharp and clear, a mix of pine, leather, and something distinctly male that my wolf recognized immediately.

Behind me, I heard the commotion as my other bonds scrambled to follow.

"Hazel! Wait!" Rhys called out. I heard the frantic patter of his bare feet on the tiled floor.

Silas's voice followed. "Should we shift too?"

"I think we have to," Ronan answered, his tone urgent.

But my wolf wasn't interested in waiting. She was on a mission, driven by an instinct I didn't fully understand but couldn't deny. The lingering sting of Jaxon's cruel words—"a fucking vegetable"—fueled my determination.

I burst through the Academy's side entrance, startling a group of students who jumped out of my path with wide eyes and muffled screams. My paws hit grass, and I felt a surge of joy at the sensation—cool earth beneath my feet, the scents of the forest calling to me.

Jaxon's trail led straight toward the tree line. My wolf followed without hesitation, tongue lolling as I picked up speed.

As I passed the faculty residences, I nearly collided with Isolde Warner—Rhys's mother—who was carrying a stack of books across the lawn. She dropped them with a gasp, staring at me in astonishment.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Warner!" I heard Rhys call out as he ran past her seconds later. "That's Hazel! Can't explain now!"

I glanced back briefly to see Rhys tearing off his remaining clothes, shifting mid-stride into his wolf form. Ronan and Silas were close behind, stripping down with impressive speed before their bodies contorted and transformed.

My attention snapped forward again as I entered the forest. Here, Jaxon's scent grew stronger. He wasn't just running; he was heading somewhere specific. My wolf followed, driven by an instinct that felt ancient and primal.

The forest floor was soft beneath my paws, fallen leaves cushioning each step. I leaped over a fallen log, reveling in the strength and agility of my wolf body. Everything felt right in this form—simple, purposeful, powerful.

After several minutes of running, I slowed, sensing Jaxon nearby. The clearing ahead appeared empty, but my wolf knew better. She lifted her head, scenting the air, then threw back her head and howled—a sound so loud and commanding it surprised even me.

The howl reverberated through the trees, a clear summons that no wolf could ignore.

Seconds later, a massive black wolf emerged from the shadows. Jaxon. His stance was defensive, lips pulled back in a silent snarl. His wolf was enormous—much larger than mine—yet my wolf didn't back down. Instead, she stood taller, tail raised high, radiating authority.

Behind me, three more wolves entered the clearing—Rhys's sandy-colored form, Ronan's russet-red, and Silas's deep brown. They formed a loose semicircle, watching the confrontation with wary eyes.

Jaxon's wolf approached slowly, head low, a growl rumbling from his chest. He circled me once, twice, his blue eyes never leaving mine. I stood my ground, turning to keep him in sight.

Something passed between our wolves—a silent communication my human mind couldn't quite grasp. When his circling brought him directly before me, Jaxon's wolf suddenly lunged forward with a snarl, as if testing my resolve.

My wolf didn't flinch. Instead, she stared him down, a low growl building in her throat. The standoff lasted only seconds, but it felt like eternity.

Then, astonishingly, Jaxon's wolf lowered his head and sank to the ground in a clear gesture of submission.

The sight of this massive, powerful wolf submitting to mine sent a rush of satisfaction through my veins. My wolf stepped forward, accepting his surrender with a gentle lick to his muzzle.

One by one, Rhys, Silas, and Ronan approached, each dropping into similar poses of submission. My wolf moved among them, acknowledging each with the same gesture of acceptance.

But something inside her wasn't satisfied. She needed more.

Without warning, she lunged at Jaxon, teeth finding his neck in a quick, decisive bite. He yelped but didn't fight back. My wolf licked the small wound she'd created, then repeated the action with each of my bonds—biting Ronan, then Silas, then Rhys on their necks before soothing each mark with gentle laps of her tongue.

The ritual complete, my wolf stepped back, satisfied. The energy that had propelled me this far suddenly receded, and I felt the shift beginning again. My bones realigned, fur receded, and I found myself kneeling naked in the forest clearing, disoriented and shivering.

Silas was the first to shift back, quickly wrapping me in a towel he must have grabbed before following me. His eyes were wide with something between awe and concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, helping me to my feet.

I clutched the towel tightly around myself, trying to make sense of what had just happened. "What did I do? My wolf... she..."

"She marked us," Ronan said, now human again and hastily pulling on his pants. His hand went to his neck, where a small wound was already healing. "The mating mark of an Alpha."

"Alpha?" I repeated, the word feeling strange in my mouth.

Rhys shifted back next, his expression bemused as he touched his own neck. "That was... incredible. Your wolf is so powerful, Hazel."

"This doesn't make sense," I said, panic rising in my chest. "I don't know anything about being a wolf, let alone an Alpha. I didn't tell her to do that!"

Silas frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe it's connected to the Spark bond. You're the center of our connection—it makes sense your wolf would establish herself as the Alpha."

Jaxon finally shifted back, his face a mask of cold fury as he pulled on his jeans. The small bite mark on his neck was already healing, but he kept touching it, as if the sensation bothered him more than the wound itself.

"That wasn't a normal Alpha claim," he said tersely. "That was something else."

"What do you mean?" I demanded, my voice shaking slightly.

"Normal Alphas don't mark their entire pack like that," Jaxon spat. "Only their most immediate family or their mates."

My stomach dropped. "So what does it mean?"

"It means," Jaxon said, clutching his neck, a sneer forming on his lips, "that is just one more reason to get us fucking killed."