Mayhem
Pain was the first thing he tasted when he clawed his way back to consciousness.
It wasn’t the sharp, blinding kind that made a man scream.
No, this was deeper. This kind of pain sat in his bones like wet cement and dragged him down every time he tried to move.
His wolf stirred beneath his skin, confused and furious, pressing against the cage of flesh that felt too tight and too weak all at once.
Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was lying on the concrete, his body going numb from what he was guessing was the loss of blood. He lost count of how many times he had passed out, and in that time, he was sure that Wraith and Howler had moved him. But where to was the question.
Wherever it was, the air felt different.
It wasn’t the metallic stink of the docks.
There wasn’t any diesel and saltwater smell in the air—just blood.
He was sure that he wasn’t in the familiar smoke and whiskey haze of the Silverfang clubhouse.
And he knew that the guys wouldn’t have taken him to a hospital, because they didn’t treat shifters.
But the smell of antiseptic hung thick in the air. It smelled clean and sterile.
His nostrils flared instinctively. Beneath the sharp chemical bite of the cleaning agents was something softer.
It was something that didn’t belong in a clinic run by human sympathizers or underground shifter medics.
No, he knew this smell—it was Moonlight.
He always thought that her scent was intoxicating.
He knew her scent the way a wolf knew the forest. It always reminded him of the cool winter air, just before snow fell. There was always a faint hint of lavender and something wild beneath it—silver and frost and quiet strength.
His eyes snapped open, and fluorescent lights stabbed into his skull. He growled low, the sound more vibration than volume. He tried to push up from the table, and fire ripped through his side.
“Easy,” a woman’s voice whispered. It was her voice. It was soft and controlled, but way too calm for the chaos he remembered.
Memory slammed back in pieces. He, Wraith, and Howler were on the docks, as his Prez shot him a warning just before Wraith went down hard. The smell of the Capitol Wolves just before he realized that there were too many of them for just the three of them to fight.
He remembered the steel that glinted under the moonlight from the silver blades of their enemies’ knives. That explained why his wolf still felt caged. “You were cut with silver,” Moon said quietly, as if she could hear his thoughts. “Multiple times. You lost a dangerous amount of blood.”
He turned his head toward her, which was a bad idea.
The room tilted as she came into focus. Moonlight stood at his side, and her gloved hands were steady as she adjusted something near his ribs.
Her silver-streaked braid hung over one shoulder, and her pale eyes were locked on his vitals, but not on him. Not the way he wanted them to be.
“You’re in Dark Chaos territory,” she continued. “Tempest brought you here. You’re safe now.”
“Safe,” he whispered. He huffed out a humorless breath. “Capitol Wolves don’t understand that word.” His voice sounded wrecked, like gravel dragged over broken glass.
Her gaze flicked to his face then, just for a second, and there it was. It wasn’t fear or irritation, but relief. His wolf noticed. It was pending despite the pain.
“Is Howler safe?” Mayhem forced out.
“He’s alive and very pissed off,” she said. “Wraith too.”
“Good,” Mayhem whispered. If Howler was breathing, there would be retaliation. The Capitol Wolves had crossed a line tonight, and they would pay for that. Ambushing the Silverfang Brotherhood was one thing, but using silver on them was another.
Moon pressed lightly against the cuts along his side. His muscles seized on instinct. “Don’t,” she warned softly. “I had to suture your side, and you’ll tear them.”
He caught her wrist before he could stop himself, and her breath caught. Moon’s pulse fluttered beneath his fingers as her eyes roamed his body. His wolf surged forward, recognizing something before his human mind could catch up. “Mine,” his wolf whispered. The word echoed inside his skull.
“No—absolutely not,” he told his wolf, but he knew that it wouldn’t do him any good to deny what they both were feeling.
It didn’t matter that she was Dark Chaos.
Sure, they were Silverfang’s allies and were well respected.
But Dark Chaos’s world was already on fire, and bringing along his pack for the fight.
The last thing he needed was a complication tied to Tempest’s pack.
Moon’s eyes widened slightly at his grip, but she didn’t yank his hand away. He didn’t flinch. “Mayhem,” she said evenly. “You’re still bleeding internally. If you want to keep that impressive lung capacity you use for yelling at your men, you need to let me work.”
A ghost of a smirk tugged at his mouth. She had bite beneath that calm, and that was the type of woman he usually fell for.
But falling for Moon couldn’t happen, and the sooner he remembered that, the better.
He loosened his hold, but he didn’t release her entirely.
His thumb brushed over her pulse once before he let go.
“You shouldn’t have risked bringing me here,” he muttered. “Capitol Wolves will see this as an escalation.”
“They already know that our two packs are allies. Besides, they escalated things when they decided to use silver,” she replied without hesitation. “And you were dying. Tempest decided to bring you to me, and it was the right decision.”
He studied her, truly studied her. Moonlight was quieter than Tempest. Less visibly fierce than some of the other Dark Chaos women.
But there was steel in her spine. He could see it in the way she moved.
She was precise and unshakable. She’d chosen to save him, knowing it could drag her club deeper into war.
But why? Was it because she was a healer? Or because—
No—he cut the thought off before he could even get the rest out. “You should’ve let my wolf heal my body,” he said roughly.
Her jaw tightened. “You had silver poisoning in your bloodstream. Your wolf couldn’t purge it fast enough. Another hour and your organs would’ve started shutting down.” That gave him pause. He remembered the metallic taste in his mouth before he’d gone down. The way his vision had tunneled.
“Damn,” he whispered. He flexed his fingers. They were weak, but responsive. “You pulled it out?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed. There was something unspoken in that single word. He imagined her hands inside his wounds. Extracting silver and stitching torn muscle—fighting death back inch by inch.
A low, possessive rumble vibrated in his chest before he could stop it, and her eyes flicked up to him again.
His wolf pushed harder this time. “Mine,” he growled.
The recognition hit him like one of the Capital Wolves’ blades.
This wasn’t just an attraction. It wasn’t just fantasy fueled by too many late-night glances across clubhouses and territorial meetings.
She was his fated mate. It was a bond that hadn’t fully snapped into place yet, but he felt the edges of it. Like a storm building behind mountains.
She must have felt it too, because he sensed that her wolf was restless.
He could smell it on her skin—agitated, pacing.
“You need rest,” she said, stepping back slightly, giving them both the distance that neither of them wanted.
Moon was a professional, and why he expected her to be anything else was a mystery.
He’d been around her enough to know who she was.
“Coward,” his wolf growled. He didn’t know if the word was directed at her or himself.
“Moon,” he said quietly. She froze. It was the first time he’d used her name like that. Not Doctor or a teasing nickname that he’d thrown across the table during a strategy session between their two packs.
“Yes?” she asked, turning to face him again.
“If the Capitol Wolves find out I’m here—”
“They won’t,” she cut in. “Tempest has the perimeter locked down. And Howler’s men are already sweeping the docks.”
He nodded, not sure if that was going to be enough. “If they come for this clubhouse because of me,” he said, voice low and deadly despite the weakness in his body, “I will burn their entire pack to ash.”
A flicker of something dangerous sparked in her gaze. “Good,” she replied. “Because we were planning to do that anyway.”
A slow, genuine smile spread across his face. There she was. He was seeing Moon not just as the healer, or the she-wolf that he wanted to claim, but as the woman who saw the storm coming and stepped out into it anyway.
His chest tightened—not from his injuries this time. “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” she murmured suddenly.
“Like what?” he asked, playing dumb. He knew exactly how he looked at her, and stopping himself from doing it was going to be a problem.
“Like I matter to you.” The words were soft, but they hit harder than any blade.
He went still, as her scent shifted—fear beneath composure.
He could tell that she wasn’t afraid of him.
She was afraid of attachment and the loss that came with it.
He knew that feeling well. Mayhem understood that fear better than anyone.
“Moonlight,” he said, voice dropping into something deeper. “You pulled silver out of my body. You fought death for me. That means something.” Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t answer him. The air between them thickened. It wasn’t lust, but something wilder mixed with recognition.
Outside the clinic room, distant voices echoed.
Tempest’s sharp tone and Howler’s low growl came through the loudest. The war was already moving closer.
Mayhem felt it in his bones. The Capitol Wolves made a mistake tonight.
They hadn’t just ambushed the Silverfang Brotherhood.
They had crossed over into Dark Chaos territory, and they’d nearly killed the wrong wolf.
His wolf settled down for the first time since he’d woken. Not because the danger was gone, but because she was there with him. Moon adjusted his IV and stepped back again, putting some space between them. “You’re not allowed to die,” she said softly. “Not after the work I just did.”
A rough chuckle escaped him, even though it hurt. “Guess I’ll have to stick around then.”
Her gaze held his for one long, charged second. “Good,” she whispered.
As she turned away to gather supplies, Mayhem let his head sink back into the pillow.
Pain still burned through him, and the war still loomed heavily around them.
The Capitol Wolves still prowled Baltimore like rabid beasts, but beneath it all, something had shifted.
He hadn’t just survived tonight; he’d found the one thing more dangerous than any rival MC—a silver wolf with winter eyes.
And if the bond forming between them was real?
The Capitol Wolves had no idea what kind of mayhem they’d just unleashed.
Moonlight & Mayhem Universal Link->
What’s releasing next from K.L.? Here’s a sneak peek! Be the first to get your hands on Cyclops (Road Reapers Book 6) coming March 2026!