Luca stood at the edge of the ruined glade, the night wind howling through the skeletal remains of the trees. The scent still lingered—faint but distinct. It was her, his mate!
The moment he stepped foot into that cursed pack's territory, he had felt it, like fire under his skin, like a chain yanked tight around his chest. His wolf had howled inside him, not out of rage, but recognition.
His mate was there.And she was already claimed by someone. He had barely made it out without tearing the entire pack apart.
"You should rest, Alpha."
Luca didn't turn. His Beta, Cael, had been speaking in hushed tones for hours, trying to ease the growing madness curling beneath his Alpha's skin. But nothing could ease the ache.
He stared at his hands, flexing them. The veins along his forearms were dark—too dark. The curse was spreading again. Every time he got close to her, it surged like a living thing, like it knew the bond was broken, like it wanted blood for blood.
"She was right there, Cael." it wa agonizing.
"I know." he beta sighed.
"She chose someone else. She let him mark her."
Cael didn't reply. He had no words to soothe his alpha.
Luca's voice dropped into something ragged. "Do you know what it felt like? When the mark set in? It tore through my chest like claws. I couldn't breathe. I Couldn't see. The bond... it snapped into place, but twisted and corrupted. Like it didn't belong to me anymore."
"She may be young," Cael said gently. "She probably didn't know."
"Or.." his eyes narrowed. "She didn't want to know. She is already in love with someone else." the words felt like lead.
Luca's fingers clenched into fists. Bark cracked beneath them where he'd slammed his knuckles into the tree earlier. He hadn't even noticed it split until blood started dripping down his wrist.
"But She is mine and I could not let her go."
"Yes," Cael said, more carefully now, "but she doesn't know what that means."
Luca's laugh was low, humorless. "Neither did I. Until the gods bound me to a ghost."
He turned then, and for the first time, Cael flinched.
The curse had changed Luca's eyes again. They shimmered with not gold, not red but black like oil, with veins of silver spiraling outward from the iris like cracks in stone.
Luca was cursed to lose himself if the bond was denied.
"It won't be long now," Luca said softly. "Either I claim her... or I fall."
"You don't want to hurt her."
"I don't," Luca whispered, "but the beast does. And every second I'm away from her, it gets harder to tell where I end and it begins."
He staggered suddenly, one hand to his chest, gasping. Something was hpapening to her, he could feel it and it took all in him to not run for the mooridge pack.
The bond flared, just a flicker but it was enough to stop his breath. She was close. She was hurting. And he felt it.Not because she wanted him. But because she was his.
Cael moved forward. "Alpha, you need rest. Let the seer come. She may know how to weaken the curse—"
"I don't want it weakened!" Luca snarled, the trees shuddering with the force of his voice. "I want her."
Silence fell like lead between them. He gritted his teeth, pushing the rage down, down, down.
He'd torn through packhouses. He'd nearly gutted an elder when they refused to let him inside. He'd demanded answers. Her name or her face And they'd given him nothing.
Only one thing mattered now: she was in that pack. And they are hiding her from him.
He could feel the mark twisting inside her, trying to settle against his own claim but it would not and it could not. She was not a normal wolf who could reject her fated mate, she was bound to a curse.
Two mate marks couldn't coexist. Not with a cursed wolf. So either her body would reject Callen's mark… Or it would kill her.
Luca stood tall again, breathing raggedly.
"If they won't hand her over," he said, voice hollow, "then we'll take her."
Cael shifted uneasily. "Luca—"
"No more waiting." His cursed eyes gleamed under the moon. "No more mercy."
Then he whispered, more to himself than to his Beta:
"Even if she hates me. Even if she runs. She's mine."
He turned away from the woods and stalked toward the waiting campfires, where his wolves were sharpening blades and howling for war.
He didn't need her love. He Just wanted her her soul.
In the moonridge pack.
The training field was nearly empty, save for the echoes of clashing blades and the scent of sweat still clinging to the air. Callen dropped the training staff with a sharp exhale, muscles aching, skin slick, mind fraying with the weight of what the day had demanded.
The warriors were getting stronger. But not strong enough for what was coming.
He wiped his face and turned toward the path leading back to the packhouse. That's when he saw her—waiting by the edge of the field. Barefoot. Wrapped in a thin shawl that fluttered in the night breeze. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, catching moonlight like strands of silver.
"Elara?" he frowned, picking up his pace. "What are you doing out here?"
She didn't speak right away. Her eyes were unreadable—dark, shimmering, maybe even afraid. But not of him, of herself, of lies she had spoken and the danger she had invired in their pack. Of everything she'd brought down on them.
"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly.
Callen stepped closer, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You should be resting. You've been running yourself raw helping Tamara."
Elara's hands gripped the edge of his shirt, tight, almost trembling. "I need something else tonight."
He froze at the way she said it. Soft, breathless, but steady. Her eyes met his. "I need you, Callen."