THE BURNING THOUGHTS of the younger girls words singed the mind of the brunette, her petite figure swaying slightly as she moved toward the warmth of the distant cabin. The wind continuing to plague the valley Dakota occupied, the breeze brushing relentlessly across her fair skin with a frigid caress of careless admiration.

Dakota herself couldn't hold back the anger that bubbled in her veins, the heated temper of the she-wolf sending the woman into a shaken distrust toward the man who held a roof above her head. His words of trust and heart filled affection dissolving into a dust of lethal demise. Her father had promised long ago he wouldn't toss her off to the Alpha of a random pack, or a morsel of a man.

Her father had lied through his teeth, his words chaste with a brush of lathered carelessness. There was something behind his reasoning, something that drew him to the offer of the Alpha. An offer Dakota had yet to figure out, or even care to indulge upon.

What was worse than her fathers white lies, was the man he had named, the Alpha of Norma Mountain. The man who was said to be more beast than human, his lifestyle gallant with a wolves bloodthirsty habits. He was a man of lingering behavior, his pack known for their violent exteriors. The group was said to be power hungry, and ruthless. It was the last pack Dakota found herself wanting to falter into, the last man she wanted to be chained too.

"Slow down!" Rosemary whined a couple paces behind the moving woman, her shortened legs carrying her closer toward the enraged sibling. The curls that bounced along her shoulders, pushing forth to frame her innocent features. Her appearance far more childish than Dakota's, for the girl, was flattened in her youthful exterior.

Dakota ignored Rosemary, her attention purely drawn toward the cabin that laid ahead of them. Her heart hammered in her chest, sending a wave of lightheaded angst without her warmed body. It wasn't fear for the affairs of her father, or even Rosemary. But fear for what will come if she is given to the man if she is forced to be taken to his home.

The cabin before her held the comfort of her childhood and countless hours of distant frustration. The cabin, like any other, was built with both wood and sweat. Dakota herself remembered helping her father construct the small home, occupying Rosemary far more than she helped settle nails into place.

A sudden tug of her hand caught the attention of the thinking woman, Dakota's focus snapping toward the master of the simple action. Rosemary peered upon her with a look of both worry, and prowling devastation. The look in her emerald eyes causing Dakota to all but release a shaken exhale, her eyes drawn away from the cabin to search the reasoning for such emotions.

Parked before the cabin was an old red pickup truck, the paint along the sides peeling, a few dents lining the tilted body of the overworked vehicle. The truck looked horrid, from the dents to the rust that settled along the fenders. It would put an elderly man to shame, for the vehicle was proclaimed a classic.

"He is here," Rosemary whispered softly, her hand squeezing Dakota's in an act to soothe the woman's pulsing nerves. "Kota." The girl added, wanting to taste her older siblings nickname on her lips once more. Who knows the last time she would be able to utter the word in the harness of privacy.

Dakota nodded slowly in response, unable to find the words that settled along her tongue. She could run. The thought poked her mind, begging her feet to move in the opposing direction. But she couldn't, the woman was far too valuable, and far to known to step foot out of the woods without a companion. Dakota knew she wouldn't get far, from the claws of rogues to the greedy taste of men.

Moving toward the cabin, Dakota pushed away the thought of disbandment her head shaking slightly as she took on her fate. "A Lupus never flees" her father would exclaim, calling the single sentence the family motto.

Dakota's couldn't help but squeeze Rosemary's hand in a kindled affection, her gaze drifting toward the younger girl. "It will be okay, Rose." She murmured under her breath, knowing it was a dwindling lie. Whose to say it would be okay? To even voice the words was uncanny, even eery in the ears of the one who spoke.

Turning her attention back toward the cabin, Dakota was hit with the strongest of smells. The woman felt herself almost tumble backward, her blossomed lips parting with a deepened exhale of fathomed distaste. The scent held the texture of withering smoke, the scent laced with the husk only a man of power could wield.

With a hesitant movement, the rarity of the werewolf world opened the back door to her home, the unnerving scent plastered against the walls for the man who held such a scent stood feet before her with the company of her shaken father.

The man wasn't what Dakota had expected, for her mind had betrayed her imagery of the Norma Mountain native. His appearance one of youth, the type of youth that was undoubtedly forced to mature over the thickened course of time.

The man stood nonchalantly in the kitchen of the cabin, his massive frame hovering above the father of the sisters. His masculine body positioned toward the back entrance of the home, his focus calculated far before he had entered the house.

Standing before Dakota the woman couldn't help but feel herself shrink in a defined submission, her attention drawn toward the satisfied curve of his lips. Her gaze drifting downward to ravenously devour his knee-weakening appearance, her heart twisting within her chest as she continued to consume the sight before her.

The man would certainly put a god to shame, for the brittle structure of his bones sent a wave of discomfort through her body. His jaw laid serrated against his skin, the formatted shape of the bones pressed into the formation of defined captivation. His jaw alone held the touch of an unshaven rouge, for the lightened shadow of a beard laid to rest against his skin.

The sudden movement of his lips brought her attention upward, for the straightened built of his nose rang with the envy of a thousand women. Taking note of his flared nostrils, Dakota raised an arched brow of clarified amusement. Focusing back on his features, she let herself collecting every fault of the man.

"You must be, Dakota." The man whispered in a gravelly tone, his slender lips curving into a smirk only a man of possessiveness could master. The man kept his eyes focused on Dakota cold ones, his tongue deliberately snaking from his mouth to caress the serrated edges of his canines.

"You must be the Alpha of Norma Mountain."

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A/N| Thank you for reading!

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