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Feral Hearts Book 1: Awakening the Feral

Feral Hearts Book 1: Awakening the Feral

Werewolf
last updateLast Updated : 2026-05-18
By:  hazelazaleasOngoing
Language: English
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Synopsis

Drama

Werewolf

Steamy

Alpha

Luna

Possessive

Betrayal

Gay for you

MxM

"You're either brave," Aaron said quietly, his accent thickening just enough when he was irritated, "or you have no sense of self-preservation." I didn't look away. His dark eyes burned - calculating, controlled, dangerous. The kind of Alpha who didn't need to raise his voice to be obeyed. The kind who was born into power and sharpened by it. "Maybe I just don't scare easily," I said smugly. A muscle ticked in his jaw. Slow. Controlled. He stepped into my space, close enough that the air shifted, close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off him and smell the faint scent of coffee on his breath. "You should," he murmured, eyes focused on my lips. ⸻⸻⸻ Xavier has one rule: survive. After being betrayed and left for dead by his own pack, he doesn't trust Alphas. He doesn't trust loyalty. And he sure as fuck doesn't trust powerful families who smile too easily. Aaron D'Amico is everything Xavier avoids - a strategic, dangerously composed Alpha raised in legacy and control. His pack is strong. His leadership is unquestioned. And his mother's influence runs deeper than anyone realizes, even him. He doesn't make reckless decisions. He doesn't let emotions interfere. And he doesn't lose control. Until Xavier. What starts as irritation turns into a battle of dominance neither of them expected. But beneath the tension simmers something more dangerous - quiet political maneuvering, shifting loyalties, and a matriarch who watches every move. Because in this pack, power isn't taken with claws. It's taken with strategy. And the Alpha who prides himself on discipline? He's about to meet the one wolf who refuses to behave. WARNING ‼️‼️‼️ CONTAINS MATURE AND SEXUAL THEMES

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Chapter 1

Prologue

XAVIER

The forest shouldn't have felt alive.

Not like that.

Not at midnight.

But it did.

The leaves didn't just rustle — they whispered. Branches creaked overhead like ribs stretching around a restless heart. The wind slid between the trees carrying more than cold; it carried warning. Every shadow bent wrong. Every snap beneath my worn sneakers sounded too loud, too close. I'd been running long enough that my lungs burned raw. Still, I didn't slow. I couldn't. Something in me urged me forward and I couldn't shake it off... or I didn't try.

Then I smelled him.

Not fear. Not blood. Not the metallic bite of danger.

Something hotter.

Something feral.

Aaron.

His name didn't enter my mind gently — it branded itself there. My pulse stumbled. My skin tightened as if it recognized him before I did. Instinct surged hard and violent: run. Hide. Bury yourself deep enough that even he couldn't find you.

But my body wouldn't obey.

He stepped from the dark like he belonged to it. Just a few feet stood between us, yet the space felt charged, compressed — as if the air itself bowed to him. Power radiated off him, controlled and deliberate, the kind that didn't need to shout.

Too close.

Too much.

Too powerful.

Too Alpha.

And still... I didn't move. The light scents of pine and bourbon infiltrated my nose, sending my Adam's apple into a nervous frenzy.

Something inside me — something I had thought had gone silent forever — stirred. Slow. Uncertain. Awake.

"You're here."

His voice was low, steady. Not surprised. Not relieved. Certain.

"I... I don't..." My words collapsed before they were finished. Breath felt borrowed. My limbs felt heavy, caught between fight and surrender.

His gray eyes held mine — storm-colored, sharp, unreadable. There was heat beneath them, banked and waiting. He stepped closer, slow enough that I could have retreated.

I didn't.

His hands lifted, hovering near my shoulders. Not touching. Not yet. The restraint was deliberate. Measured.

"You don't have to understand," he said quietly. "Not yet."

The command wasn't in the words. It was in the control.

"Just don't run from me."

I should have.

Every nerve in my body was coiled tight. Every scar in my memory whispered that closeness was dangerous. But beneath the fear was something else — a pull I couldn't name, heavy and magnetic. It dragged at something primal in my chest, something that responded to him whether I wanted it to or not.

The wind shifted again.

Moss.

Wet bark.

Cold earth.

And him.

Sharp. Earthy. Warm.

He didn't dominate the space. He consumed it. His fingers moved closer, grazing the air just above my skin. My muscles tensed automatically, but he paused — adjusted — as if remembering that I wasn't something to conquer.

"I've never..." His jaw tightened. "I don't know how to do this without hurting you."

There it was — the crack in the armor.

"But I will learn."

Not a promise tossed into the dark.

A vow.

My heart pounded so hard it felt bruised. My breath came shallow. And deep inside me, the wolf I had buried — the part I had refused to acknowledge — lifted its head.

He was danger.

He was fire wrapped in restraint.

He was control held on a razor's edge.

And somehow... impossibly... he was careful with me.

The forest closed in around us, thick and waiting — the night hummed with things unseen. And standing there, caught between fear and hunger, I understood something that terrified me more than him.

This wasn't just attraction.

It wasn't just instinct.

It was inevitability.

The storm wasn't coming.

It was already there.

——————

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆

┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆

┊ ┊ ★⋆

┊ ◦

★⋆ ┊ . ˚

˚★

Hello lovely readers,

If you're here, that means you not only love supernatural things like I do but you love the act of love too. I'm sure smokin hot alphas make a good selling point for most stories. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for deciding to read my first book, Awakening the Feral! Whatever made you decide to pick it up, I hope the writing has now since convinced you to stay a while.

A little background before we really kick things off, this book is made from the story of Aaron and Xavier, Aaron being an OC I made for a roleplay back in like 2016 when I was around 13-14. Xavier being one of my closest, longest and best online friend Alex's OC from that same roleplay. It used to be a whole little group of us roleplaying Nightshade Pack on I*******m! Our group account might even still be up somewhere where we used to post our OCs and the application for new members to the roleplay lols!!

Fast forward a couple years, all this time, Alex and I have stayed friends, started and ended various roleplays and attempted multiple different creative concepts to ensure that Xavier and Aaron's story never truly dies. Our boys have existed and survived in our minds this long. It was time I stopped dallying and gave Aaron the attention he so deserves. We both strongly felt their story deserved more than where we left it off at in middle school so here I am today writing you a 5 book planned saga on my bestest boy and his bestest fated mate just with some.... major adult tweaks.

More books to come and each will only get better, I swear it! If this book goes well, for book 2 with Alex's permission I'll release the old old middle school fan art he drew of our boys (it's freaking adorable and actually very impressive for a middle schooler to have drawn).

Happy reading,

Mari ᥫ᭡.

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29 Chapters
Prologue
XAVIER The forest shouldn't have felt alive. Not like that. Not at midnight. But it did. The leaves didn't just rustle — they whispered. Branches creaked overhead like ribs stretching around a restless heart. The wind slid between the trees carrying more than cold; it carried warning. Every shadow bent wrong. Every snap beneath my worn sneakers sounded too loud, too close. I'd been running long enough that my lungs burned raw. Still, I didn't slow. I couldn't. Something in me urged me forward and I couldn't shake it off... or I didn't try. Then I smelled him. Not fear. Not blood. Not the metallic bite of danger. Something hotter. Something feral. Aaron. His name didn't enter my mind gently — it branded itself there. My pulse stumbled. My skin tightened as if it recognized him before I did. Instinct surged hard and violent: run. Hide. Bury yourself deep enough that even he couldn't find you. But my body wouldn't obey. He stepped from the dark like he belonged to it. Just
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Chapter 1
Pain. It was all I felt. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Moving hurt. Thinking hurt. Existing... hurt. I tasted blood. It coated the back of my tongue, metallic and thick, sliding down my throat with every swallow. I tried not to. It hurt too much. The forest floor was cold beneath me. Damp. The scent of wet earth filled my lungs, heavy and suffocating. My fingers twitched against leaves matted with mud and something much darker, stickier—more blood. I didn't remember falling. I did remember running. Running as if my life depended on it. It had. Boots crashed behind me. Gunfire split the air. The sound of my own breathing broke apart. Hunters. The word drifted through my head like smoke. I tried to move. My body didn't respond the way it should have. My ribs screamed in protest. Something sharp dug into my side every time I drew breath. I should have shifted. That was the instinct. The answer. The survival mechanism carved into my bones. But nothing happened. The wol
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Chapter 2
Warmth is the first thing I notice. Not numbness. Not pain. Not cold damp earth or matted leaves. Warmth. It wraps around me like heavy wool, pressing against my skin, seeping into every one of my bones. My body feels weightless and impossibly heavy at the same time. Then the pain returns. Duller now. Blunted. But entirely still there. The more my mind cleared the fog, the more I began to realize just how bad a shape my body was in. Deep, dark bruises littered my pale skin from my shoulders to my ankles. Scratches and a couple of gashes sprinkled my feet as I had lost my shoes not long into my escape. My head had a dull throbbing ache in the back, probably from hitting my head on a rock when I fell. I inhale sharply — and instead of wet earth and blood, I smell herbs. Crushed leaves. Something bitter and medicinal layered over wood smoke. I'm not in the forest anymore. And looking around, it was clear this wasn't Kansas either. Sorry Toto. My eyes snap open. The ceiling above
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Chapter 3
The pack wakes before the sun fully rises. Not loudly. Not chaotically. But with purpose. The air shifts first — scents thickening as bodies move between cabins, patrol routes refresh, hierarchy reasserts itself in quiet dominance displays. Smoke curls from central fire pits. Boots press into damp soil still heavy with morning dew. I watch it all from the edge of the healer's porch. I shouldn't be standing. My ribs ache in slow, pulsing reminders. My shoulder burns where silver and branches tore through skin, but confinement is worse. The walls press too close. The air inside still smells faintly of him, and it's making my headache from the day prior come back. Out here, at least, the wind moves freely. Two younger wolves stand near the training circle, their voices low but careless in that way wolves often are when they think they're unobserved. "I'm telling you, he carried him." "I saw it." "Since when does he carry anyone?" A pause. "Not since..." "Stop." Silence. "
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Chapter 4
The clearing empties slowly. Wolves drift back toward training circles and patrol routes, the rhythm of the territory resuming as if nothing beneath it trembles. I don't realize how long I've been standing there until the ache in my ribs sharpens again. "You look like you're about to collapse." Fiorella's voice comes from behind me — warm, steady, mildly exasperated. I don't turn immediately. "I'm fine." "You're not," she replies calmly. "And you're terrible at pretending." There's no accusation in it. Just observation. I finally glance over my shoulder. She's dressed more simply today — dark leggings, loose sweater sleeves pushed to her elbows. Her braid has been redone, tighter this time, practical. Less ceremonial. More real. "I was told to return to the cottage," I say. "Yes," she answers. "And you ignored that." "Is that punishable here?" She smiles faintly. "Only if you make my brother chase you." That does something unpleasant to my pulse. I look away first. She step
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Chapter 5
Morning light spills across the cabin floor in long, pale bands when the knock comes. I can't say I wasn't fully expecting it. Two sharp raps. Not hesitant. Not demanding. Precise. "Come in," I say, already knowing who. The door opens, and Aaron steps inside without waiting for an invitation to settle. He closes the door behind him as the air shifts instantly. The scent of pine and warm spice threads through the room, stronger now in the confined space. It presses low in my lungs, settling there like something meant to stay. His gaze sweeps over me once. Head to toe. Assessing. "You're upright," he says. "Yes." "You shouldn't be." "I'm healing." "You're pushing it." "I don't like being managed." A flicker crosses his expression — not anger. Not quite amusement. Something sharper. "You don't like being vulnerable," he corrects. The accuracy irritates me. I fold my arms loosely across my chest, ignoring the faint pull in my ribs. "I don't need supervision." His eyes drop
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Chapter 6
The training grounds are alive by the time we step into them. Wolves spar in controlled pairs, bodies colliding with calculated force. Commands snap through the air. Dust kicks up beneath boots. Conversations are quiet as we cross the clearing. Not fully, but enough. They notice him. And they notice me. Aaron stops in the center of the circle. "Light movement," he says. "No impact." "I can handle more than that." His gaze hardens. "You will do as instructed." A murmur ripples faintly through the wolves nearby. Dominance display. Public. Intentional. I step into the ring opposite him. "Show me," he says. "I'm not a pup." "Then prove it." The challenge lands cleanly. I move first. Fast. Testing. He shifts easily, intercepting without effort. His forearm blocks my strike, grip closing briefly around my wrist. Heat shoots up my arm as his thumb presses against my pulse point without meaning to. My wolf reacts violently, a sharp internal surge. Aaron's eyes darken instantly
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Chapter 7
The frost hasn't melted yet when we leave the clearing.It crunches under my boots — sharp, brittle, too loud in the quiet morning air. The forest feels different this early. Less alive. Like it's holding its breath.Aaron walks ahead at first.Not far.Never far.But ahead enough that it feels deliberate.I hate that I notice that."You'll need to learn the boundaries," he says without looking back."I'm not staying.""You are. For now."His tone isn't harsh, it's worse. It's certain.We move downhill toward a narrow ravine where roots twist through the earth like exposed bone. The ground slopes unevenly."Step where I step," he says.I bristle instantly. "I can walk.""I know."That shouldn't feel like a challenge. But it does. So I don't step where he steps, and immediately regret it. My sneaker slides on loose soil. My balance shifts. The world tilts.A hand closes around my forearm before I hit the ground.Strong.Warm.Unyielding.Aaron's fingers dig in just enough to anchor me
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Chapter 8
I'm standing in the forest.But it isn't our forest.The trees are taller. Thicker. Their branches stretch overhead like cathedral arches, and silver light spills through them as if the moon has multiplied into a thousand fractured pieces.The air smells different.Stronger.Warmer.I inhale.Pine.Spices.Something darker beneath it.My chest tightens. I know that scent. I turn slowly. He's standing across the clearing.Aaron.But not quite.His eyes glow faintly — not the sharp dominance they usually carry, but something deeper. Softer. Older. His wolf is closer to the surface here. I can see it in the way he holds himself — fluid, predatory, certain. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. The air hums between us.I take a step forward. The ground feels alive beneath my bare feet. Soft moss gives way to warm earth. My skin feels too sensitive — like everything is heightened. Every breath, every shift of wind. He steps toward me, too.Slow.Measured.Like he's approaching something fr
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Chapter 9
I wake up gasping.The cabin is dark.Cold.Silent.But my skin is burning. My heart is pounding as if I've run for miles. And my body— My body is painfully aware of itself. Heat pools low in my stomach, tight and insistent. My hand drifts to my chest, where it hurt in the dream. It still feels tender.Like something pressed there.Like something almost broke through.I sit up slowly. The scent of him lingers faintly in my mind.Cedar.Smoke.Warmth.I scrub a hand over my face."This is nothing," I mutter to the empty room.Just proximity.Just instincts misfiring.Just loneliness.That's all.But when I lie back down, my pulse doesn't settle for a long time. And somewhere deep in my chest —Something is awake.I don't fall back asleep. I lie there staring at the ceiling, breath slowly evening out, but something is wrong. Or different. The cabin is silent, but I'm not.There's a low hum in my chest.Not pain.Not exactly.More like pressure.Like something pacing just beneath my ribs.
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