Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man

CLARE – POV

Feral. That’s what he was.

Not seductive. Not sly. Not cunning.

Just a slobbering, psychotic mutt with one goal: break me before the hunt even began.

I’d thought I could play him. Charm him. Drug him.

But I’d underestimated just how fucked up a horny wolf could be.

Instead of dragging me to some quiet corner where I could work my little escape trick, this freak had slammed me against the wall and started slobbering all over my neck like a dog tasting meat.

I gagged as his mouth dragged wet and hot down my skin.

Disgusting.

His hands were worse—wandering, forceful. He grunted like he was proud of it.

So much for charm. So much for playing smart.

I clenched my fists, screamed inwardly, but kept my voice soft and coaxing.

Or... I tried.

"Why don’t we go somewhere... more comfortable?" I whispered, trying to make it sound seductive.

He snorted. Actually snorted. Then laughed—a cruel, raspy sound that crawled down my spine.

"Nah, sweetheart," he rasped against my ear, "I’m fucking you here. Where the others can hear you scream. Fuck you hard and nice so when the hunt begins, you won’t be able to run. You’ll die having the best fuck of your life."

My stomach turned. My soul snapped.

What the actual fuck had I gotten myself into?

Stupid wolves. Stupid me for thinking I could outwit one without a plan B.

He was a monster—plain and simple. And he wasn’t just looking for a good time.

He was looking to ruin me.

I shoved at his chest, panic rising. "Get off," I hissed. "Stop—"

He just laughed and kept going, unbuckling his belt like this was some dirty joke. I saw the flash of light, the glint of the zipper.

Nope. Fuck this.

No. No, no, NO.

He was still a man though. Still had weak points.

So I went for the oldest trick in the book. And it worked.

My knee drove up between his legs with every ounce of hate I had left.

He doubled over with a strangled yelp, clutching his junk like I’d yanked it off. His pants sagged to his knees as he stumbled backward, face twisted in agony and rage.

"Fucking little bitch," he choked, trying to catch his breath.

I didn’t wait.

I kicked him square in the head so hard I heard my own ankle crack. The pain shot up my leg like lightning.

But I didn’t stop.

He went down. I turned and ran.

The corridor blurred as I limped and bolted toward the metal door at the far end. I didn’t even know where it led. I just knew it wasn’t here.

My fingers fumbled at the door—why do those damn locks always feel slower when you’re panicking?

Finally, it creaked open.

And I froze.

One of them cocked a brow. "Guess Luke already started releasing them. Stupid jerk beat us to it."

The other wolf shrugged and stepped aside. "Whatever. Let her through. Hunt’s on."

What.

I blinked. Heart thundering.

They thought I was released... on purpose.

Miracle. Divine intervention. Dumb luck. I wasn’t about to argue.

I didn’t ask questions. Didn’t wait. Just sprinted past them like the hounds of hell were at my heels.

And maybe they were.

Because as I hit the tree line, the air shifted.

A bone-deep howl split the sky—long, triumphant, hungry.

The kind that promised blood and bone.

The hunt was about to begin and they were excited.

And I was prey.

But fuck them all.

I wasn’t dying today.

Branches slapped my face. Thorns clawed at my skin. My legs burned with each pounding step as I crashed through the underbrush, the forest swallowing me whole.

I didn’t care.

I just kept running.

The air was thick with mist and the smell of pine and rotting leaves.

Like the woods themselves were holding their breath. Like everything—trees, wind, even the birds—were waiting for the moment the wolves would drop.

And then—

Somewhere in the distance, something howled—not close, not yet, but there. And I knew what that meant.

They were coming.

I stumbled over a root and hit the ground hard, palms scraping against damp soil. I cursed, scrambling back up. My ankle screamed at me, hot and swollen. I’d twisted it in the chaos and now every step felt like a knife to the joint. Still, I ran.

My breathing turned ragged. My throat felt like it had been sandpapered raw. Sweat soaked through the torn fabric of my shirt, clinging to my spine like ice despite the heat rising from my body.

Ten minutes passed.

Maybe twenty.

Maybe a thousand years.

I didn’t know anymore. I didn’t care.

All I knew was that the sky was getting darker—either from clouds or dusk—and I hadn’t heard another human voice since I bolted from the dungeon. Had any of them made it? Were they hiding? Already dead?

The forest stretched endlessly in every direction. Trees loomed like twisted giants. There were too many shadows, too many hiding places for things with teeth. I was prey in a place made for hunters.

And then—a sound.

Far behind me. Low. Deep.

A howl.

My blood froze.

One became three.

Then five.

Echoing from all directions like a death song carried on the wind.

They had shifted. The hunt had begun.

"No, no, no, no—" I gasped, forcing myself forward. My legs felt like jelly, my ankle screaming louder than my fear, but I didn’t stop.

Don’t stop. Don’t die.

I stumbled again, this time catching myself against a tree. My vision blurred. I could feel the panic trying to drown me, like hands clawing up from under my skin. I was slowing down.

And I knew what that meant.

If I stayed on the ground, I’d be dead before the moon even cleared the treetops.

My eyes darted around the trees, searching for one—anything—that could give me an edge. Then I saw it: a towering oak, gnarled and ancient, its trunk thick and its branches stretching wide like the arms of a god.

Multiple low limbs. Thick cover. A chance.

I limped to the base of the tree, breath ragged. My fingers scrabbled at the bark. My boot slipped. My ankle flared white-hot pain through my leg.

"Come on... Come on, Clare..."

I jumped.

Caught a branch. Nearly slipped.

Swore through my teeth.

Pulled myself up with every ounce of strength I had left.

The bark scraped my palms, digging into raw skin. My muscles trembled from effort, the pain in my ankle nearly made me black out. But I climbed.

The first branch groaned under my weight, but held. I didn’t waste time. I climbed higher, using every bit of upper body strength I’d ever ignored at the gym. Dirt coated my knees. Blood streaked my hands. Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes.

Another howl ripped through the forest. Closer.

Too close.

I pushed myself faster, up past the third branch, then the fourth, until I was high enough that the ground blurred through the leaves. Nestled in the crook of a wide limb, I curled in on myself, trying to slow my breathing. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Every muscle in my body trembled. My ankle throbbed so bad I thought I might pass out. My heart tried to pound its way out of my chest.

I was a mouse in a hawk’s nest, hiding in the open and praying to gods I didn’t believe in.

The forest fell quiet again. No birds. No breeze. Just the sound of my ragged breath.

And then...

Snap.

A branch broke below.

My lungs froze.

I leaned slowly, carefully, trying to peer down without shifting too much weight. Shadows moved between the trees. Fast. Fluid.

I didn’t see them clearly—but I didn’t have to.

I knew what they were.

Wolves.

Not the ones from the fairy tales, but them—these monsters in fur and teeth, bred to kill, made to hunt.

They weren’t chasing anymore.

They were searching.

Stalking.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, biting down on my knuckle to stop from making a sound. My body shook so violently I thought the branch might betray me with a creak.

Two of them padded beneath my tree. One paused, sniffed the air. His muzzle lifted toward the sky, ears twitching.

I stopped breathing.

The other nudged him and they moved on—fast, silent, vanishing into the darkness again.

They didn’t see me. They didn’t smell me. Not yet.

I didn’t move for a long time. I just sat there in that tree, knees drawn to my chest, arms wrapped tight around them. The pain in my ankle faded to a dull, pulsing throb, dulled by adrenaline and terror. I could feel every beat of my heart in my bones.

And all I could think was: This is just the beginning.

Because they weren’t going to stop.

And neither could I.

But for now... I had bought myself a little time.

If I could rest. Let the pain subside. Let my head clear. I might be able to figure out where to go next.

But as another howl echoed across the woods—closer this time—I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay here for long.

I wasn’t just prey.

I was the game.

And the wolves were just getting started.