Page 72 of The Forbidden Alpha

My spine lengthened, not with a crack, but with a fluid, serpentine ripple that stretched me toward the earth. My shoulders broadened, the muscles knitting together and doubling in size.

This is what we were intended for.

My thighs buckled, and I pressed my palms into the damp moss, feeling the dirt beneath me as my fingers elongated, my nails hardening into iron-clawed paws.

Let go. Simply exist, Korra’s voice vibrated through my mind.

“There you are,” Ethan murmured, his voice thick with awe. My eyes darted to his. He drank in the sight of my transformation with a hunger that bordered on worship. He stared at me with a look of pure awe. “Look at you,” they breathed through the bond, the mental vibration trembling with devotion. “Goddess, you’re magnificent.”

The sensation of change hummed into silence.

I took a shaky step toward the edge of the black pool, my new, massive frame moving with a fluidity that made me feel like a shadow. As I leaned over the water, the moonlight caught my throat. The white rings looked stained, touched by moonlight. Then, I saw her—me.

My coat was a striking, asymmetrical mosaic that defied everything I had ever known of pack markings. The entire left side of my body was a rich, earthen brown, while the right was obsidian black, split perfectly down the center of my spine and muzzle. Seven thin, white rings ran around my neck like necklaces. I lifted a paw, watching the dark fur ripple, and felt something close to pride.

I was whole.

And I was fucking beautiful.

Not in the way society deemed, but in the way a storm is beautiful. The transition had been effortless, leaving behind a clarity I’d never had before. I felt my existence realigning. Every ache—the bruising on my hips, the lingering concussion—was gone, erased by the shift.

The air smelled fresh, and the mountain breeze tasted sweet on my tongue. I lowered my snout into the moss, inhaling deeply; the scent of earth and pine had never been this beautiful, this distinct. The moon called to every instinct, and I lifted my head to the sky, letting out a victorious howl that shattered the silence of the valley.

Beautiful.

The telepathic rumble echoed through my skull, followed immediately by a sudden static.

Break her. Snap her neck.

I froze. The voice wasn’t Korra’s. It was angry and demanding, bubbling up from the depths of the bond, directed toward me.

Desecrate the vessel. Tear into her throat. Make her bleed.

My stomach turned, but beneath the horror, a thrill passed through me. This was it—the madness the kingdoms whispered about, the King’s internal war. But as the voices shrieked for my death, I realized I didn’t recoil. I wasn’t the weak link. I was the only creature in this forest that wasn’t afraid of him. While I had been clinging to my wolfless shell, hiding in my own stubbornness, he had been drowning alone. Not only had I been avoiding a mate, but I’d abandoned him to this cursed fate. The guilt was a blade in my gut, but I couldn’t look away. I’d been chosen for a reason. I was the only one who could survive it.

My ears swiveled, searching the shadows. The man was gone, and a black wolf stood in the moonlight, his massive frame absorbing the starlight. Erebus. Ethan. They were one and the same—the King and the monster, both mine. His glowing green gaze pinned me to the spot, radiating a depth of dominant fury and possessive heat that made my heart skip.

Mate, he repeated, his link a heavy command that brooked no defiance.

Even as he approached, the screaming in my mind didn’t stop. It was a cacophony of gore, a constant, shrill demand for my death. This was the monster the kingdoms whispered about? The hell he’d been living in while I hid? My throat tightened—if I hadn’t been so stubborn, so against finding him, he wouldn’t have been alone with these voices. Every drop of this madness was a consequence of my own cowardice.

A powerful black paw took a step forward before his frame bounded across the clearing. I rushed to meet him. Our snouts collided with a visceral, heavy impact, and I lifted my powerful head to nuzzle him, my fur mingling with his as I took in pomegranate and chocolate.

Relief flooded through me—the feeling of finally being free.

I stepped back, his eyes narrowing as I turned and ran through the woods. If wolves could laugh, he made a sound that resembled it. The thrum of his heavy paws against the earth, hot on my tail, made me quicken my pace. I jumped over a cliff and slid into a landing, turning to smirk at him as he stared at me from across the way. I was beautiful, agile, and mischievous. I turned, swaying my body and flicking my tail—teasing him.

Erebus surged forward, a comet that blocked out the moon. He was fast, but so was I. I bolted, my paws finding purchase on the moss. I felt a massive wall of heat closing the gap. His jaws snapping inches from my flank, I pivoted, my new frame defying gravity as it spiraled. I tucked my head and rolled, emerging beneath him, my shoulder brushing against the fur of his underbelly.

He skidded to a halt, his claws dragging up earth as he whipped around. This time, he came at me with the understanding I wasn’t an easy target. I feinted toward the thicket, then doubled back, my tail lashing in defiance. I felt Korra’s laughter ripple from my mind to his, a sound mirrored in the oxygen filling my lungs.

I stopped by the fallen tree I jumped earlier, turning to face him. I lowered my chest to the ground, my rear haunches held high in an invitation to play, my ears flattened playfully.

Erebus came to a stop. His head tilted, a low growl rumbling through the air—a challenge. He took one step, then another, his gaze triumphant because I had my back up against a wall.

Caught, his voice cocky.

Before I could dart away, he launched. The impact sent us both tumbling into the grass. He pinned me to the ground, his body a solid barrier, his breath hot against the fur of my neck.