The Lycan King.
Aria’s POV
I can’t breathe. The clearing reeks of blood, iron, and burnt fur, the aftermath of slaughter. I have been wandering around the woods for the last few days. I have nowhere to go. The rogues attacked me, and he came to my rescue. The rogues lie in twisted heaps around me, their snarls silenced forever. My pulse drums in my ears, frantic and uneven, as I stare at the man, no, the beast, who destroyed them as though they were nothing more than insects. I know who he is, the Lycan King. I’ve only ever heard his name whispered. Darius Nightborn. The most feared ruler of our kind. To wolves, he is power incarnate, untouchable, ruthless. To Lycans, he is a hero. He is the law. My wolf trembles in awe.
“Mate,” She whispers. The word echoes inside me like a prayer. My breath hitches, my throat tight. No. It can’t be. I stumble back, pressing myself against the log, my nails biting into the bark.
“No! Not again,” I whisper, shaking my head. He turns slowly, his golden eyes locking onto mine. They burn brighter than fire, molten and commanding. His chest heaves as he exhales, his shoulders broad, his body still brimming with battle heat. The sheer force of him makes the air heavy, thick with dominance. But it isn’t just power that holds me. It’s the tether. The bond sparked to life, pulling at the shattered pieces of my soul. I feel it coil around me, warm and inevitable. My wolf whines, joy bleeding through her exhaustion. “
He’s ours. He’ll never betray us,” She whispers in my head. I want to believe her. Goddess, I want to. But my chest still aches from Ethan, from the rejection that almost killed me. That wound is still raw, still bleeding. And now the Moon Goddess dares to tie me to another? To the Lycan King, of all people? I laugh, a broken, hysterical sound.
“This is a joke. A sick, twisted joke.” I whisper. His head tilts slightly, his expression unreadable. His gaze drags over me, my torn dress, my scraped skin, the bruise blooming along my cheek where the rogue struck me. His jaw tightens.
You’re hurt.” His voice is low, deep, like thunder rolling across the horizon.
“I’m fine,” I snap, though my voice trembles. A faint smirk flickers at the corner of his mouth, gone before I can decide if I imagined it.
“You’re shaking,” He says. I am. My body quivers from cold, fear, and the strange heat of the bond twisting in my veins. I wrap my arms around myself, glaring at him.
“Stay away from me,” I say. For a moment, silence stretches between us, taut as a bowstring. The weight of his gaze is unbearable. He doesn’t move closer, but I feel him everywhere, inside me, around me, filling me with an energy I can’t control.
“You’re mine.” He speaks finally. His words slam into me like a physical blow. My knees weaken, my breath catches. Anger surges hot and sharp, battling the pull of fate.
“I am not yours. I was a mate once, and it destroyed me. I won’t. I can’t do it again," I say. My voice cracks. His expression hardens, eyes narrowing.
“Who rejected you?” He growls. The question cuts deep, raw. My lips part, but no words come. Shame burns in my chest. Ethan’s face flashes in my mind, the cruel smirk he wore when he chose Lilith over me. I flinch, unable to answer. Something dangerous flashes in Darius’s eyes. His aura intensifies, pressing down on the clearing like a storm ready to break.
“Tell me his name,” He demands. My stomach knots. His tone is lethal, promising death. He doesn’t even know Ethan, yet he speaks like he would tear him limb from limb just for touching me. And that terrifies me more than anything. I force myself to shake my head.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s not mine anymore. That’s all you need to know,” I say softly. I do not want to anger him more. For a long moment, he studies me, silent and unyielding. Then he exhales slowly, as though reining himself in.
“Very well. Then hear me now. I am not him. I will never be him. You are mine, and I do not give up what is mine,” He says. His voice lowers, steady and absolute. The words strike something deep inside me, something I thought was long dead. Possession. Protection. It should infuriate me. It should make me run. Instead, it makes my pulse race, my body ache with a longing I swore I’d buried.
“No,” I whisper, though it sounds weaker this time. He steps closer. Just one step, but the ground seems to tremble beneath his weight. I should move, but my body refuses. His scent reaches me. He smells like earth, pine, and smoke, wild and consuming. My wolf shivers in delight, her tail wagging as though she’s found the missing half of her soul. I bite my lip until it bleeds.
“Do not fight this. He is strong. He is fire. He is ours,” My wolf begs. But I fight anyway. Because if I don’t want to be hurt again, I’ll shatter completely.
“I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this,” I choke my words out. His gaze softens slightly, though his voice remains firm.
“Neither did I,” He says softly. The admission steals my breath. The Lycan King, admitting he didn’t ask for fate? It almost makes him human. Almost. Before I can reply, the night air shifts again. He stiffens, his head snapping toward the trees. His nostrils flare, his expression darkening.
“We need to move,” He says. Panic spikes in me.
“More rogues?” I wonder.
Scouts. They’ll come in numbers when they smell blood. And you’re in no condition to fight,” He growls. I shiver.
“I can ...” I start. He cuts me off with a sharp look, one that silences me instantly.
“You will do as I say. I won’t lose you,” He says. The words slam into me, foreign and dangerous. My body sways, caught between fear and something hotter, darker, curling low in my stomach. Without warning, he closes the distance between us. He bends, his arms sliding under me, lifting me as though I weigh nothing. I gasp, my fists pressing weakly against his chest.
“Put me down!” I shout, but not hard enough to be heard by the scout.
He doesn’t even flinch. His golden eyes lock onto mine, fierce and unrelenting. “You’ll fight me tomorrow. For now, you rest.”
Then he moves, swift and unstoppable, carrying me into the night as though the world itself bends to his will. I should scream. I should claw at him until he lets me go. But instead, my head falls against his chest, my body betraying me, craving the warmth of him. And deep inside, my wolf sighs.
“At last we are home," She says.