10. Evan
One year later
Evan’s lungs burned as he tore through the moonlit forest, heart hammering, adrenaline surging. Leaves and twigs whipped at his skin, but he barely registered the sting. He’d trained for this, spent a whole year preparing, learning every shortcut, every hidden path. He knew this land better than most wolves now.
A rustle in the underbrush made his pulse spike. He whipped his head around, catching the glint of golden eyes.
A massive wolf emerged from the shadows, its muscles coiled tight, ready to spring. Evan tensed—
Then the wolf caught his scent, hunched its shoulders, and slunk off.
A grin tugged at Evan’s lips.
But his humor was short-lived. A howl shattered the night: low, deep, and close enough that the sound vibrated through his bones.
Evan's stomach flipped. He knew that howl.
He bolted. His legs pumped harder, his breath came in sharp gasps—
But he’d barely covered ten feet before a force like a freight train slammed into his back.
The ground rushed up to meet him. He hit the dirt with a grunt, a heavy weight pressing him down before he could scramble away. Warm breath ghosted over his neck, sending a shiver through his spine.
Above him, Silas loomed, all raw strength and predator’s grace, his dark eyes burning with hunger. Moonlight gilded the hard planes of his body, the ripple of muscle, the sharp edges of his smirk. Evan struggled underneath him, his heart racing, body thrumming with a thrill he loved.
"You’ve been teasing me all night," Silas rumbled, voice rough with dark amusement. His fingers locked around Evan’s wrists, pinning them to the forest floor. "Running, hiding, playing hard to get."
Evan smirked, even as heat curled low in his stomach. "If you can’t even catch one little unarmed human, maybe you’re not the big, tough alpha you think you are."
Silas' eyes darkened. "You want to test that theory?"
Evan’s breath hitched. The weight of Silas, the heat of his body—everything about this moment sent a thrill through him. They both knew how this would end. They’d known since the first step of this so-called chase.
But Evan still bared his teeth in a defiant grin. "Catch me again and find out."
Silas yanked Evan to his feet, his grip unyielding, his strength effortless. Before Evan could catch his breath, he was shoved back against the rough bark of a towering tree, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs. A sharp gasp escaped him, but beneath the shock, anticipation coiled tight in his chest.
This was their game. A ritual they'd perfected over the past year, each chase ending the same way, each time more intense than the last.
Still, he struggled. You had to keep it interesting, right?
He twisted, testing Silas’ hold, but the werewolf was too strong, too fast. With a firm nudge, Silas kicked Evan’s legs apart, his hands gripping Evan’s waist with a possessiveness that sent a shiver racing down his spine.
"You thought you could outrun me?" Silas’ voice was a low, predatory growl against Evan’s ear, each word sinking into his skin, curling around his bones.
Evan sucked in a shaky breath, his pulse pounding. "I nearly did," he murmured, his voice betraying the thrill racing through him. "It took you half the night to catch me. Next year I might actually outrun you."
Silas’ answering chuckle was dark, laced with satisfaction. His body pressed closer, heat radiating between them, his dominance undeniable. "You should’ve stopped running sooner."
Evan barely had time to inhale before Silas' lips crashed against his, rough and claiming. Teeth scraped, tongues tangled, the kiss raw and unrestrained. Silas tasted like the night—cool air, wild instinct, and masculine need.
Evan melted and fought in the same breath, pressing into Silas even as he pretended to resist. It was all part of the game. His hands fisted in Silas' hair, tugging hard, but it only made Silas groan against his mouth, deep and satisfied.
"You like pushing me," Silas murmured against his lips, his hands sliding down to grip Evan's hips, fingers digging in just enough to make Evan gasp. "But we both know how this ends."
Evan shivered as Silas trailed his mouth along his jaw, then lower, teeth grazing the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. He bit down—not enough to break skin, but enough to make Evan whimper. Heat pooled low in his stomach, tension coiling like a spring ready to snap.
"Silas," Evan breathed, half plea, half challenge.
Silas pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes burning with hunger and something deeper, something that had settled between them over the past year.
Possession. Devotion. Love.
Evan exhaled shakily, his entire body strung tight. He let his head fall back against the tree, exposing his throat in silent surrender.
Silas' teeth grazed Evan’s throat, just enough to make him gasp, before he pressed in, sucking harshly at the sensitive skin. The sensation sent a wave of heat crashing through Evan’s body, a rush of blood to his head, and a flare of desire low in his stomach.
Silas' grip tightened on him, his lips marking Evan’s skin with possessive fervor, a quiet growl vibrating through his chest as he nipped and pulled at the tender flesh.
Evan’s breath hitched, heart racing, as every pull of Silas' mouth made him feel like he was being consumed, body and soul. The pain mixed with pleasure in a way that made him crave more, his fingers gripping the tree bark as he fought not to crumble.
Silas' hands slid around Evan’s waist, firm and possessive. Without a word, he turned him, spinning him with ease until Evan’s chest pressed against the rough bark of the tree. The air caught in Evan’s lungs as his back collided with Silas' chest, feeling the heat of the werewolf’s body against him, hard and strong.
Evan's stomach fluttered with a mix of fear and desire. He could feel the heat of Silas' body against his back, the hard length of his cock pressing against his hole. He'd prepped himself before the run, in anticipation of its ultimate conclusion. The cool slickness of the lube was nothing compared to the burning heat of Silas' touch.
Silas didn’t hesitate. No teasing, no warning—just one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt.
Evan’s cry shattered the quiet, raw and desperate. The stretch burned, overwhelming, almost too much—but fuck, he needed it. Needed the force, the hunger, the way Silas took him without mercy. This was the darkness he’d always craved, the forbidden pull he’d spent his life denying.
Silas took him hard, relentless, his strength keeping Evan pinned to the rough bark. Each thrust was a brand, a claim. Evan felt every inch of him, thick and unyielding, spreading him open. His body trembled, helpless against Silas’ size, his own cock dripping, aching, desperate.
Evan's body responded eagerly, his cock hard and leaking, his muscles clenching around Silas' shaft. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure and pain coursing through him, a heady mix that left him gasping for breath. He could feel Silas' claws digging into his hips, holding him in place, a sting that only added to the intensity.
"You feel that, Evan?" Silas growled, his breath hot on Evan's ear. "That's me claiming you, owning you. You're mine . Mine to mate, mine to fill."
Evan clung to Silas, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body utterly at his mercy. He had spent a year with this man—this monster of a man—and still, every time felt like the first. Still, Silas unraveled him with a single look, a single touch.
Beyond them, shadows lurked at the edges of the clearing, the restless pacing of watching eyes sending a pulse of heat down Evan’s spine. He knew what they wanted. Knew how they longed to have him, how the raw, animal hunger in their gazes burned through the night like smoldering coals. But they couldn’t touch him. No one could. Not while Silas had him.
And that knowledge sent a sharp thrill through Evan, an intoxicating rush of power mixed with surrender.
He let his head loll back, exposing his throat—offering himself the way he always did, the way he always would. Silas growled in response, low and approving, his breath searing against Evan’s skin before his teeth found their mark.
Pain flared, sharp and exquisite, before melting into something deeper, hotter. Evan gasped, his fingers digging into Silas' shoulders, his body caught in the storm of sensation. It wasn’t just the pleasure—it was the claiming. The sheer, overwhelming force of Silas' love, fierce and relentless, as if he needed Evan as much as he needed air.
Evan had never wanted anything so much in his life.
Silas' hips snapped forward, his cock slamming into Evan with bruising force. Evan's smirk dissolved into a gasp, his body jerking like a ragdoll against the tree. Silas leaned down, his hot breath washing over Evan's neck before his teeth sank into the tender flesh. Evan cried out, the bite sending a shockwave of pain and pleasure through him. His knees buckled, but Silas' powerful grip kept him upright, impaled on his thick cock.
"Mine," Silas rasped, his voice rough, raw. "No one else. No one touches you, no one takes you—just me."
Evan let out a breathless, trembling laugh, his body arching instinctively, instinct driving him just as much as desire. "Like I'd want anyone else," he murmured. "Like anyone else could ever—"
His words broke off into a gasp as Silas silenced him the way he always did—with lips, with hands, with the heat of his body pressing Evan so tightly against the tree that there was nothing left between them. Nothing but need. Nothing but love.
Evan surrendered—like he always did, like he always would.
Hot breath ghosted over his ear. "Look at them," Silas murmured, voice dripping with command. "The mutts watching. Wanting. They’d love to have you. To claim you. But they never will."
Evan forced his eyes open. Shadows shifted, figures barely human, but their eyes burned: hungry, frustrated, wanting. A shudder racked through him, fear and something darker twisting in his gut.
"Put on a show for them," Silas ordered, sharp teeth nipping his earlobe. "Let them see what they’ll never have. Show them who you belong to."
Evan barely knew where his body ended and Silas began. His mind swam, overwhelmed by sensation, by the relentless pleasure unraveling him from the inside out. His hands clawed at the bark, his legs shaking, but it wasn’t just the physical that had him spiraling. It was him—Silas, the man who had claimed him, who worshiped him with an obsession Evan still didn’t quite understand.
A year ago, Evan never would have imagined that someone like Silas would want him—this much, this fiercely. He was just a regular guy, nothing special, not some battle-hardened wolf or heir to a bloodline.
And yet, Silas looked at him like he was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Touched him like he’d been starving for him every second they were apart. Took him like no other meal would ever satisfy.
Evan wasn’t just a mate. He was his.
A shudder rocked through him, pleasure winding tighter, but his thoughts flickered, scattered, landing somewhere softer. The pack. The place that had once filled him with fear, with the sharp edge of wariness, now felt like home. He hadn’t expected to like them. To laugh with them. To be pulled into their ridiculous rivalries, their inside jokes, their fierce loyalty that ran deeper than blood. He didn’t have to worry about full moons, about losing himself to instincts he didn’t have—but they never treated him like less.
They treated him like family.
Like he belonged.
And Silas—Silas had given him that. Had given him everything. Had made sure every single one of them knew exactly who Evan was to him.
Evan gasped, pleasure surging higher, and somewhere beneath the wildfire burning through him, something warm, something whole, settled deep in his chest.
Silas drove into him, relentless, every movement pushing Evan higher, making him shake. Heat built, unbearable, a cruel edge of denial just out of reach. The thick swell of Silas’ knot pressed against him, teasing, promising, but not giving.
"Please," Evan begged, his voice a ragged whimper. "Please, Silas, I need... I need your knot."
Silas chuckled, his breath hot against Evan’s ear, dragging out the torment. "Not yet. I want to feel you come apart for me."
That was all it took. Evan shattered. His whole body locked up, a sharp cry ripping from his throat as pleasure slammed into him with brutal force. His vision blurred, his senses short-circuited, his muscles clenching around Silas as he was wrung dry. He barely registered the rough snap of Silas’ hips, the guttural sound he made as he took exactly what he wanted.
Evan sagged against the tree, his chest heaving, his mind floating somewhere distant. But Silas wasn’t done.
A rough hand slid up Evan’s stomach, fingers spreading over sweat-damp skin, grounding him, keeping him where he belonged. Silas was still buried inside him, thick and pulsing, his presence impossible to ignore. Silas rolled his hips, slow and deliberate, making sure Evan felt everything.
A shudder ran through Evan’s spine. He should’ve been done, spent beyond recovery. But Silas never let him go easy. Never let him disappear into the haze of exhaustion without pulling him back into the heat, the hunger, the need.
Silas nipped at his throat, right where his mark sat, deep and permanent. "Still with me?" he asked, low and smug.
Evan forced his eyes open, his breath ragged, his body trembling. He should say no. He should tell him he had nothing left to give.
But the fire never fully went out when it came to Silas.
Evan turned his head just enough to meet that piercing golden gaze. He was exhausted, wrecked, completely at Silas’ mercy.
And still, his voice came out hoarse, desperate. "More."
Silas growled, his hands tightening. Then he gave Evan exactly what he asked for.
Silas didn’t hesitate. The second that word left Evan’s lips, his grip tightened, and the teasing, controlled pace was gone. He took .
His thrusts turned feral, all restraint shattered as he drove into Evan with the kind of intensity that left no room for thought. Just sensation—raw, consuming, impossible to escape. The rough bark bit into Evan’s chest, his fingers scrabbling for purchase, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Silas. The heat of his body, the sheer force of every movement, the brutal rhythm that left Evan gasping, reeling, drowning.
Overstimulation crackled through him, a live wire under his skin. He had nothing left, every nerve frayed, too much and still somehow not enough. But every time Silas dragged his swollen knot against that spot inside him, Evan twitched, his cock leaking untouched, caught in an endless loop of pleasure that had no mercy, no escape.
His brain went white-hot, his body useless against the wave pulling him under. He was gone, lost in the rhythm of Silas’ hips, the deep growls rumbling against his skin, the unbearable stretch of being taken apart and put back together in the same breath.
A vicious snarl tore from Silas’ throat. His grip bruised, his thrusts turned sloppy, erratic. His knot swelled, pushing deep, holding Evan in place as his body locked up behind him.
And then, heat.
Evan gasped, his whole body clenching around the pulse of Silas spilling inside him, the sensation tipping him into something deeper, something darker. His mind blanked, pleasure curling through every muscle, every nerve ending, leaving him nothing but a trembling wreck against the tree.
Silas didn’t move. Couldn’t. He just stayed there, chest heaving, body rigid against Evan’s back, holding him inside, together, claimed.
Evan’s breath shuddered out of him. His body was spent, wrung out, barely able to process the aftershocks still rolling through him. But the weight of Silas behind him, the steady pulse inside him, the slow drag of rough fingers over his stomach—it was enough.
Evan swallowed hard, eyes slipping shut, exhaustion pulling him under.
He had never been more full.
He should have been exhausted— was exhausted—but the pleasure still thrummed through him, deep and low, echoing with every slow pulse of Silas’ heartbeat against his back. His mate’s arms wrapped around him, strong and possessive, pressing him close as if he could somehow pull Evan deeper into himself.
Silas nuzzled into the crook of Evan’s neck, his breath hot and ragged against sweat-damp skin. His grip tightened, his hand splaying over Evan’s stomach possessively. "You were made for me."
Evan smirked, though it was ruined by the breathless way he sagged back against Silas’ chest. "Tell that to my legs. I think they're too wobbly to walk."
Silas huffed out a laugh, pressing a slow, almost tender kiss to Evan’s temple. "I’ll carry you."
And he would. He always did.