Relentless mate katu wol.., p.1
Relentless Mate (Katu Wolves, #10), page 1
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2025 Jade Marshall
ISBN: 978-0-3695-1334-2
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: CA Clauson
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. No AI Training permitted.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Relentless Mate (Katu Wolves, #10)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
DEDICATION
For Lynne Spence
Thank you for the visit
I missed you more than words can express
I can’t wait to do it again
RELENTLESS MATE
Katu Wolves, 10
Jade Marshall
Copyright © 2025
Author’s Note
Relentless Mate contains themes and scenes that may be distressing for some readers. As an author, I understand that trigger/content warnings are necessary.
I have compiled a list to the best of my abilities which is freely available on my website.
Website: https://jademarshallauthor.wordpress.com
Your mental health matters.
For those of you who wish to go in blind, please remember that this is a work of fiction, and I DO NOT condone or wish to romanticize any of the situations or actions of the characters.
Happy Reading.
Jade Marshall
Chapter One
Silas
The scent hits me before the main gate of the Hunter compound even comes into view.
Not the scent of home—pine, storm-soaked earth, and pack musk—but something sharp and sweet swirling under it. New. Unexpected. Impossible.
My dire wolf slams against my ribs hard enough that my vision blurs. Mate. The instinct roars through me like a blade to the gut. I stagger, planting a hand on the rough bark of a tree. The world tilts. I’m a seasoned Alpha-born warrior who’s survived war, loss, betrayal, and more. I don’t stagger and I never lose control.
But the bond doesn’t settle into certainty, it flickers. Just a spark and a flash of heat. Then nothing but the echo of it.
My dire wolf howls in frustration, pacing and frantic, unable to lock onto the scent fully. Something, someone, is interfering. Drugs, fear, pain ... trauma. It muddies the air until I can’t tell what’s real.
She’s close, my dire wolf insists. She’s hurt.
My chest tightens.
I push off the tree, breathing unsteadily. “Not now,” I mutter to myself. I have a mission to lead and a rescue to execute. Emmaleigh’s intel said a Hunter convoy was moving captives tonight, and we finally caught a trace of their trail.
But the scent... Goddess, it coils around my spine and drags.
Marc appears beside me, nostrils flaring. “Are you okay?”
No. Not even close. But I force my shoulders back. “Focus. We move in thirty.”
He nods and jogs toward the trucks. I stand alone in the trees, fists clenched, trying to breathe past the bond’s broken pulse. It shouldn’t react like that. Mate scents don’t glitch. Unless...
Unless she’s so traumatized her animal can’t rise to meet mine. A low growl tears out of me. Whoever she is, she’s already suffering and she’s close. Too close to be a coincidence.
I shove down the panic. One mission at a time. Save the captives. Identify the scent later.
Except fate doesn’t give a damn about my plans.
****
We reach the coordinates Thomas retrieved from the Hunter tech they captured last week, a supposed abandoned warehouse near the river. But the moment our boots hit the ground, my neck prickles.
It’s too quiet. Too open. Too fresh.
Godrick snarls under his breath. “They knew we were coming.”
Raleigh is already scanning the tree line. “We were fed bullshit intel.”
A shadow shifts near the warehouse windows. I inhale and that scent hits me again, harder this time. Closer and panicked. It feels drug-heavy and smothered in fear.
My entire body locks up.
Marc notices first. “Silas...?”
I don’t respond because I’m already moving.
The Hunters burst from the building in tactical formation wearing uniforms, and carrying shock sticks glowing blue. Not the chaotic, scattered Hunters we’ve dealt with before. This cell is organized. Prepared.
Iris’s intel warned us that some Hunter groups have started regrouping, but this ... this is worse. Gunfire explodes shattering the silence of the night. The pack spreads, shifting, snarling, and meeting the Hunter force with brutal precision.
But I only hear one thing. A thin, broken whimper.
Mate.
The sound slices through me like a knife. My control snaps. I tear toward the warehouse, Marc shouting my name behind me, but there is no stopping me right now.
I crash through a half-broken door, splinters flying in all directions. The scent slams into me full force now. Raw. Terrified. Drug-coated. Four cages line the far wall. I scan them so fast my eyes burn. Then, I see her.
A woman curled into herself, thin but unbroken, wrapped in shadows like armor. Her wrists are bruised and her pulse too faint. Her hair falls around her face in a dirty, tangled curtain, but the moment she lifts her head, my world stops.
Golden eyes. Wide and wild. Glowing faintly in the dark like a predator’s. She’s not a wolf or a dire wolf. She isn’t even canine. I clear my mind and scent the air trying to figure it out. She’s a leopard.
My breath leaves my lungs.
A leopard shifter. A species so rare even the Katu pack believes them nearly extinct. Most of us have never seen one and those that have are far and few between, the clans a myth wrapped in silence.
But this woman, this secret the Hunters clearly uncovered before we did, she’s mine. Or she would be, if she had the strength to reach for the bond. Because when our eyes meet, something in her flinches. Something trapped. Something drugged and terrified that tries to rise ... and fails.
The bond sparks, flares, and cuts out.
My chest twists painfully. I lean forward, gripping the bars. “Hey, I’ve got you.”
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even seem sure I’m real.
Behind me, footsteps pound closer. Marc, Godrick, and Raleigh. Another Hunter charges in with a shock baton. I don’t bother shifting, I simply snap his neck with my bare hands.
He drops to the floor with a thud. The woman’s pupils dilate, fear spiking. Shit. I’m scaring her.
I force myself to soften my shoulders, lower my voice. “You’re safe. I swear it.”
But the lie tastes bitter. We’re in a war zone. No one is safe, especially not her.
The lock isn’t simple. It’s reinforced, Hunter-tech. I slam my shoulder against it once, twice, the metal groaning.
Marc arrives beside me. “Silas, we need to fall back—”
“I’m not leaving her,” I cut him off.
He hesitates, then nods and covers my flank. One more hit and the lock snaps with a scream of metal. When I pull the door open, she flinches away so violently she hits the cage wall behind her. Her breath shudders, too fast and too shallow.
My dire wolf falls silent with worry.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” I say softly. “I’m getting you out. That’s all.”
Slowly, painfully slowly, she uncoils enough to crawl toward me. Not because she trusts me. But because she has no other choice. When my hands finally slide under her, lifting her weight, the bond sparks again, warm, bright, and alive, then breaks apart like smoke in the wind.
She gasps in pain and I nearly drop to my knees. Fated mates aren’t supposed to feel wrong. Not unless she’s too hurt for her animal to answer. Not unless she’s been pushed so close to death the Goddess can barely reach her.
I hold her tighter, careful not to crush her trembling frame. “I’ve got you,” I whisper.
A lie again, because I don’t have anything under control. But I will. I will tear the world apart to make this true.
Chapter Two
Aria
Darkness presses against my thoughts like wet cotton, heavy and suffocating. I drift somewhere between sleep and nothingness, my body floating, and unanchored. I think my eyes are open, but everything is black.
I hear boots. Voices. A woman crying. Metal screaming. Then a roar so deep it vibrates inside my bones. I try to move but I can't. My limbs respond like they belong to someone else, or no one at all. Pain flickers across my nerves in thin, electric threads. I breathe in ... and gag.
The air tastes like bleach and rot and the metallic bite of my own blood.
I’ve learned to identify those smells. Months inside this plac e trained me well. Maybe years, I’ve lost the rhythm of time. The Hunters are always careful to keep us disoriented.
Except tonight ... something is different.
There’s shouting. Panic. The sharp thud of bodies hitting the ground. Someone is fighting them. Someone strong.
I try to focus, but the drugs drag me back down. They dull my instincts, bury my leopard under layers of fog until she barely stirs. She hates it. I hate it. But she sleeps because she’s forced to. Because I’m too weak to help her.
Footsteps stop in front of my cage.
A growl, deep, furious, and familiar in a way that terrifies me.
My pulse spikes, frantic. I crawl backward until cold metal bars scrape my spine, my breath leaves me in shallow, shuddering gasps. I don’t know who’s out there. I don’t trust anything that sounds like power anymore.
Power has only ever brought me suffering.
The footsteps come closer.
My vision flickers—the shadows bending, light cracking through them. And then a figure steps forward, broad shoulders blocking the weak overhead bulb. He crouches, bringing himself level with me.
I blink and the world sharpens around him.
His eyes, Goddess, his eyes are like storm clouds over steel. Hard. Wild. And when they lock onto mine, something inside my chest twists violently. Heat pulses between us, bright and sudden. Then just as quickly, it fades and flickers out like someone blew on the flame.
I inhale sharply as pain stabs low in my stomach. It’s not physical but something else. Something ... elemental.
The man, no, the shifter, flinches at the same time. A tiny hitch of pain across his jaw.
His voice is rough, cracked with worry and something too gentle to belong in a place like this.
“Easy,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
Liar, I want to say. No one has had me for an exceptionally long time. Not in the way that means safety. But my lips won’t move. The drugs keep my voice locked inside.
He hits the cage door with his shoulder, once. Twice. I flinch with every impact, and he curses under his breath, bracing his feet like he’s about to tear the world apart. Another man appears behind him. Smaller and around the same age. He moves like a warrior, but my shredded nerves don’t care. Another male in the room means more danger.
My ears ring.
My pulse hammers.
They’re Hunters, my mind insists, too slow to process the difference. They’re going to hurt you again.
But that’s not right. Their scents are different from the Hunters. Not harsh. Not chemical-soaked. But warm and earthen. They’re wolves. I haven’t smelled real wolves in ... I don’t know how long.
The lock snaps with a metallic crack. The man in front, the one with storm eyes, pushes the door open.
He waits.
He doesn’t rush me.
Doesn’t bark orders.
Doesn’t grab me like I’m a thing.
He waits.
My fingers shake as I crawl forward. My muscles burn as though they’re tearing from my bones. I move because I know staying in this cage means death. Not freedom. Just the next phase of suffering.
My leopard stirs faintly under the drugs, like a whisper. Go. Move.
When I’m close enough, he slides his arms under me. Warm, solid, and so incredibly careful. The contact should make me recoil, but my body goes limp instead. Too weak to fight. Too tired to care.
The moment he lifts me, the heat between us sparks again then stutters. Fails. Breaks.
His breath catches. His arms tense like he’s holding back something feral. I want to tell him I’m sorry. That I’m too far gone. That my animal can’t answer. That I might be beyond the Goddess’s reach.
But I can’t speak. I let the darkness swallow me again.
****
I come back to consciousness slowly. I’m being carried. The movement is uneven, bouncing. The steady rhythm of running feet as the wind whips past us and frigid night air bites my cheeks.
Someone shouts to the left. A crash sounds behind us. A roar, terrible and powerful, answers it.
Then the man carrying me swears loudly. “It’s a fucking trap! Move! Move!”
My eyes blink open. Light slices across my vision. Trees. Moon. Chaos. We’re outside. We’re actually escaping. I’m so excited I start to tremble. A hand touches my back, gentle and grounding.
“You’re safe,” he murmurs. “Stay with me.”
Safe. The word vibrates in my chest in a way nothing else has for years. I try to cling to it, but terror claws at my throat. I hear gunfire. Screams. Wolves howling and snarling.
He holds me tighter, bracing my head against his shoulder so I won’t see what he’s running through. It’s too much. My breath hiccups and my skin goes cold. I want to shift. I want my leopard out. I want her to protect me. But she’s terrified too.
The last time we shifted in front of strangers, they drugged us until she curled into a corner of my mind and stopped trying. She doesn’t trust anyone.
Not even me.
Not anymore.
I shake uncontrollably.
“We’re almost out,” he promises, his voice rough with something like desperation. “Just hold on.”
Hold on. Hold...
I fold back into darkness again.
I don’t know how long I was out, but when I wake again, everything is warm. Soft. Quiet. The air smells like cedar and incense and something clean, like fresh rain. It pulls at something deep inside me, something instinctive, feral, and wounded.
My leopard uncurls slightly. Not enough to rise. Just enough to let me know she is still there.
I’m lying on a bed covered in thick blankets with a humming heater in the corner. A soft light glows from a nearby lamp. An intricate wooden dresser stands against the far wall. There’s a window, just a pane of glass, no bars.
This isn’t the compound. This isn’t a cage.
Someone sits near the bed and I freeze. His scent reaches me before I turn away. That storm-wild canine scent. The one from the rescue.
My stomach flips.
I turn my body just enough to see him. He’s sitting in a chair, forearms resting on his thighs, hands clasped loosely. His eyes are on me but not pinning me. Watching. Quiet and patient.
Everything about him is too big. Too strong. Too intense. My pulse jumps.
He notices. His expression tightens, not in anger, but concern. “You’re awake.”
His voice is deep, low, almost soothing. But I don’t trust soothing. I push myself up, bracing against the wall behind the bed. My arms shake. I grit my teeth through the weakness. He stands slowly, hands visible, like he’s approaching a feral animal.
Which ... is fair, I guess.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says.
They always say that. Usually right before they hurt me.
I swallow, my throat is sandpaper dry. “Where...?”
“The Katu pack compound," he answers softly. “It’s safe territory.”
Safe. That word again. I want to believe it, but I can’t force my mind to accept what he keeps saying. He takes a step closer, and I shrink back before I can stop myself. His jaw flexes, pain crossing his features, but he stops immediately.
“I won’t come closer. Not unless you want me to.”
Want. It’s been a long time since anyone cared about what I wanted.
My voice cracks when I manage to speak. “Why ... why did you take me?”
The bond flickers between us, weak and inconsistent, like a heartbeat struggling to find its rhythm. His breath catches. He knows it. He feels it too.
He swallows. “Because you’re...”
He cuts himself off, eyes flickering like he’s arguing with himself.
I wait.
Finally, he says quietly, “Because you were dying. And because you’re important.”
Important. That doesn’t feel real.
“I’m...” My voice trembles. “I’m not important. I’m nobody.”
His eyes flash. “Don’t say that.”
I flinch at the sharpness. He notices and immediately softens again. “You survived something unforgivable. That alone makes you something.”
Tears sting my eyes and I blink them away. He doesn’t approach. He doesn’t crowd. He gives me space, a full two feet of space, and somehow that makes me want to cry harder.
“Aria,” I mumble before I can stop myself.
