"They are not going to stop chasing, Hillary! We have to give up here if we want to save our son," Charlotte says breathlessly, stumbling to a stop among the trees.
"Mom!" Kyle cries out, panting heavily. "I don't want to be saved if you're going to die! What's the point if you're both gone? I'd rather die with you!" Tears stream down his dirt-smudged face, but Charlotte doesn't listen.
Instead, she yanks a bundled skirt from her small pack and pulls it over Kyle's head, sliding it down his body to his waist.
It's far too big, but she ties it tight enough to hold.
Kyle rips it off, fighting against her. "No! I don't want this! I'm not doing whatever you are asking me to do!"
Hillary grabs his son's shaking shoulders, forcing Kyle to look him in the eye.
"Kyle, son, listen to me. We have to do this. Ever since you were born, we've been running like this, trying to protecting you. And every time death almost reached you, the Moon Goddess stopped it. We know she did it because she has a reason for making you different.
You have to survive, Kyle. You have to live for whatever destiny she has set for you. We believe in you, you're strong, we know you will survive."
Kyle's whole body shakes, fear clawing up his throat.
But his father's words reach deep inside him, igniting something raw and desperate, the will to live.
Maybe his father is right, Maybe he has to live. He has to fight , even if it means running now and grieving later.
He should stay alive and even seek Justice from those people who have made his parents have a hell like life just because they gave birth to a child who was different from normal wolves.
His mother hands him a blouse and an oversized sweater, her hands trembling.
He puts them on with numb fingers.
Charlotte fusses over his hair, letting the long strands fall around his face, styling him quickly, messily, making him look less like the rogue boy they're hunting and more like a lost, terrified girl.
She cups his face, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead. "Tonight is the full moon. You turn eighteen. Your mate will feel you. You'll feel them. And if the Moon Goddess wills it, your mate will stand by your side. Together, you'll be unstoppable. Mates... together are always unstoppable."
Tears blind Kyle's vision. He shakes his head frantically, refusing to let go.
Hillary pulls him into a crushing hug. "Go now. Find your own way to survive."
Charlotte's tears stream freely as she echoes, "We know you will."
Kyle sobs but obeys. He turns and runs, stumbling into the darkness.
He doesn't get far.
A pair of heart-wrenching howls pierce the air, his parents' howls, and then they are abruptly silenced.
The world tips sideways.
Kyle collapses to his knees, clutching at the dirt, his heart shattering inside his chest.
They're gone.
He can feel it. They're really gone.
He wants to scream, to tear the world apart, but he can't. His parents' last wish was for him to survive.
Dragging himself to his feet, he stumbles through the trees, leaning heavily against trunks, gasping, stumbling, but never stopping.
Eventually, he reaches a deserted tarmac road cutting through the endless forest.
Night falls heavy and cold, and the full moon hangs high and cruel above him.
He's utterly alone.
And then headlights...
A car swerves toward him, erratic, too fast, music blaring from open windows.
The vehicle screeches to a halt. Three drunk men spill out, laughing.
"Hello, princess," one slurs, eyeing Kyle hungrily. "Need a ride?"
Before Kyle can even say even a word, rough hands grab him, shoving him into the backseat.
He fights, claws, kicks, but they're too strong, and he's too weak.
"Wait until we get home," one man laughs, groping at Kyle. "We'll have some real fun then."
The driver chuckles. "She's not for you, man. You like boys, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah, I remember that, but for some reasons I'm attracted to this princess." the man mumbles, the whole car roaring with drunken laughter.
Kyle's heart pounds so hard he can barely hear. Terror suffocates him. He struggles again and again, tears burning his eyes.
But then the car jerks violently.
"What the hell?" the driver yells. "Feels like someone's pulling us backward!"
All three men twist around, Kyle can tell how they freeze.
His head twists too.
A massive figure stands behind the car, half-wolf, half-man, his eyes glowing a murderous red.
Pulling the car.
With one swing of his fist, the back window shatters.
"STOP THE CAR!" the monster roars, his voice like thunder cracking the sky.
The car engine sputters and dies.
The drunk men scramble out of the car to flee, but the werewolf is faster.
In seconds, they are unconscious on the ground, unmoving.
Kyle trembles uncontrollably, heart in his throat.
The wolf-man turns toward him, towering and terrifying, and yet something in the way he moves softens the air between them.
Kyle tries to scramble away, but his legs refuse to work. He only manages a pathetic shuffle before strong, calloused arms scoop him up against a broad chest.
The man wraps his powerful arms around him, and the moment their bodies collide, it's like something inside Kyle snaps, a violent, electric jolt that shoots through every fiber of his being.
The warmth that pours into him is scorching, blinding, drowning out every rational thought.
It's not just heat, it's recognition, an ancient call that surges through his blood, shaking him down to his very bones.
His wolf rises with a ferocity he's never felt before, clawing against his chest, desperate to get closer, desperate to answer the call.
Kyle gasps, his fingers instinctively clutching the wolf's shirt, as if letting go would tear him apart.
The man's scent slams into him, deep forest after rain, musk, the raw power of an unstoppable storm, and it crashes into his senses like a wave, marking him, claiming him, wrapping him up until he can barely tell where he ends and the man begins.
Ours.
The voice of his wolf growls inside his mind, low and primal, full of hunger and awe.
Ours. Our mate.
Kyle's head spins.
His heart feels like it's about to rip out of his chest, thundering wildly as the bond between them snaps tight like a taut cord, pulling, tightening, anchoring.
The man holds him even tighter, burying his nose in Kyle's hair, inhaling deeply as if memorizing his very soul.
Then, in a voice rough with overwhelming relief, with pure devotion bleeding into every word, he whispers against Kyle's skin,
"I've finally found you. Moon above, I've really found you."
Kyle stiffens.