The Forbidden Beta

Ivory's POV

The scent of burning pine hung heavy over the sacred clearing, but it did nothing to soothe the violent restlessness churning in my stomach.

Tonight was the Matching Ceremony, the one night of the year when unmated, coming-of-age werewolves finally found their soul mates.

I stood at the periphery of the crowd, arms crossed tightly over my chest, watching the expectant pack gather in a wide circle. The pale blue moon hung high above us, glowing.

"It won't happen," I muttered under my breath, casting my gaze down to my leather boots. "Maybe I'd never get a fated mate."

I was Ivory, the Beta of the Obsidian Pack. I had built my reputation on absolute self control. I didn't need a fairy tale to solidify my status. But still, it hurt to watch others get something you longed for.

Suddenly, the moonlight's pale glow turned into a blinding silver radiance. A high-pitched, agonizing sound sliced straight into my skull.

I gasped, dropping heavily to my knees as my hands flew to my ears.

"What the hell is going on?!"

The sound escalated into a deafening pitch. A wave of invisible heat poured into my veins from nowhere, burning and freezing me all at once. My senses exploded. I could smell the damp earth beneath me; I could hear the synchronized heartbeat of every living thing in the valley.

My wolf surged forward with terrifying momentum.

Crack.

I screamed as my bones snapped and forced themselves into a new alignment. My spine arched, muscles tearing and rebuilding in a flash of agonizing heat. Claws tore through my fingertips, and a raw, hooting howl broke from my jaw, echoing into the dark canopy.

And then it hit me.

An intoxicating, utterly irresistible scent drifted from the tree line-a rich blend of jasmine and vanilla honey.

My body moved entirely on instinct as I sprinted into the blackness of the forest, tearing through the underbrush. Branches whipped against my fur, but I felt no pain. I only needed him, the owner of the scent-my soul's missing half.

I skidded to a halt so violently that my claws tore a line on the ground.

The wolf stood waiting in the shadows.