Ivy Darkwood is a hunter, trained to track and eliminate rogues before they threaten her pack. Cold, ruthless, and fiercely loyal, she's never questioned her duty. Not until Jaxon Emberfang. A cocky, unpredictable rogue with a past as dark as the night, Jaxon should be her enemy. Instead, he's her salvation, saving her life when he should have killed her. Now, Ivy is trapped between her oath to the pack and the undeniable pull of the rogue wolf who tempts her in ways she can't afford to feel. But Jaxon isn't just any rogue. He's the rightful heir to a fallen pack, a wolf with a dangerous secret that could destroy everything Ivy has ever known. And when Astrid Silverfang, the ruthless rogue queen, sets her sights on Jaxon, Ivy is forced to make a choice: betray her pack or risk everything for the one wolf she swore to hate. Enemies by fate. Lovers by instinct. In a world where trust is a weakness and love is a death sentence, will Ivy and Jaxon survive the war that's coming? Or will their forbidden desire cost them everything?
Moonlight slashed through the dense canopy of the forest, bathing the earth in silver and shadow. Ivy Darkwood crouched low in the underbrush, her breath steady, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of her dagger. The scent of damp soil, pine, and something else-something wild-filled her lungs.
She wasn't alone.
A rogue was close.
Her instincts screamed it. The air was thick with that musky, untamed scent, laced with the unmistakable bite of danger. Ivy's grip tightened. Her Alpha had sent her to eliminate the threat before it crossed into pack lands, and she never failed a mission.
A twig snapped.
Ivy tensed, muscles coiling as she scanned the darkness. Her heart pounded a steady rhythm against her ribs, but her breathing remained controlled. Calculated. She had been trained for this since she could walk-to track, to hunt, to kill.
A shadow shifted between the trees.
Her dagger was in the air before she could think, slicing through the night. But just as it was about to hit its target, a blur of movement knocked it aside.
A growl rumbled through the silence. Low. Amused.
"Well, well. That's no way to say hello, little huntress."
The voice was deep, rough like gravel yet laced with undeniable charm.
Ivy didn't hesitate. She launched forward, her other blade drawn, but in a flash of movement, her wrist was caught in an iron grip.
She gasped, eyes locking onto the man before her.
Tall. Broad. Shirtless.
His body was all lean muscle and raw strength, marred with scars that told stories of battles hard-won. His dark hair was wild, tousled by the wind, and his sharp, angular face was shadowed by a dangerous smirk. But it was his eyes-golden and burning with mischief-that held her captive.
A rogue.
Jaxon Emberfang.
Ivy's lips curled into a snarl. "Let. Me. Go."
Jaxon cocked his head, clearly amused by her fury. "Now, why would I do that? You were the one throwing knives at me. Shouldn't I be the one demanding answers?"
Ivy wrenched her arm free, stepping back, blade raised. "You're a rogue."
His smirk deepened. "Guilty as charged."
"That means you're a threat."
He sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. "See, that's the problem with you pack wolves. Always thinking in black and white. What if I told you I wasn't here to cause trouble?"
Ivy narrowed her eyes. "Then I'd call you a liar."
Jaxon grinned, sharp and wicked. "Smart girl."
Before she could react, he moved-fast, too fast. One moment he was in front of her, the next he was behind, his breath warm against her ear.
"But you don't really want to kill me, do you?" he murmured.
Ivy spun, slashing her blade. He dodged easily, his body moving like liquid shadow, and the worst part? He was toying with her.
Her blood boiled.
"You think this is a game?" she snapped.
Jaxon leaned against a tree, crossing his arms. "Everything's a game, sweetheart. The question is... are you playing to win?"
Ivy lunged again, but this time he caught her wrist mid-strike, twisting her around so her back was flush against his chest. Heat radiated from him, his grip unyielding but not painful.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
"Let me go," she gritted out.
Jaxon chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "You keep saying that, but your heart's racing, Ivy."
Her breath hitched.
No. No.
He wasn't supposed to know her name.
"How do you-"
Jaxon leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "I make it a point to know who's hunting me."
Ivy's stomach twisted. He knew her. Had been tracking her just as she had tracked him.
A rogue. Tracking a hunter.
Unacceptable.
Snarling, she twisted in his grip, driving her knee up. He dodged-barely-but it was enough. She broke free, blade at the ready, heart hammering against her ribs.
Jaxon held up his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "Damn. You really don't like losing, do you?"
"This isn't a game," she snapped. "You're trespassing on Silverfang territory. That means I have every right to kill you."
His smirk faltered, just for a second.
"Yeah?" he murmured, his voice losing its teasing edge. "And if I told you I had every right to be here?"
Ivy hesitated.
Just for a breath.
And that hesitation was dangerous.
Because Jaxon saw it.
And he smiled.
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