Lysander’s POV

He stood in front of me, breath ragged like his lungs had been scorched from the inside. The same beast that had roared and shattered the dungeon walls now had a human form, and gods help me, he was... beautiful.

Not in the soft, gentle way the storybooks described. No. This beauty was raw and violent, the kind you couldn’t look away from even when you knew it could destroy you.

He had broad shoulders, the kind built to carry the weight of death and power, and his chest rose and fell like he was still trying to remember how to breathe.

Long curls of black hair fell around his face, damp and wild, reaching just past his shoulders, framing the sharp lines of his jaw and those terrible, beautiful eyes.

Eyes that burned with something that looked like pain wrapped tightly around fury. He didn’t blink. He didn’t even flinch. He just stared at me like I was something he both hated and needed.

Then I heard it. That sound.

Chains.

Not loud. Not close. But unmistakable.

A soft, chilling click echoed from behind the stone walls, and my body went still. Were they locking the gate again? Reinforcing the dungeon?

It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. I was going to die here. Whether by fangs or chains or silence, I could feel death pressing against the air, thick and patient. But if I was going to die, it wouldn’t be with my knees on the ground and fear choking my voice.

I closed my eyes.

And for a moment, I saw my father. His smile was wide, eyes filled with pride the day he taught me how to fight. He looked just like I remembered. Strong. Stubborn. A little reckless. And always mine.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight and burning as the image of him stayed in my mind. I hoped he could see me now. I hoped he would know I hadn’t backed down.

“I hope my mum gets the life she deserves,” I whispered. My voice trembled as the words broke through the lump in my throat. A tear slipped down my cheek, warm and quiet.

“I love you, Mum,” I breathed. “I love you, Dad.”

I opened my eyes.

The beast—no, the man—was still there. His fists were clenched at his sides now, but he hadn’t moved.

Not yet.

His eyes were locked on mine, full of rage and something else I couldn’t name. My legs were shaking, but I didn’t back away. I lifted my chin, keeping my gaze fixed on him, even as every part of me screamed to run.

“You want my blood, right?” I said, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to make him lean into the words. “Come get it, then.” My voice cracked on the last word, but I didn’t care.

I wasn’t afraid to die.

Not anymore.

I looked at him, the terrifying man still dripping with the beast’s hunger, and felt something inside me twist. Not with fear, not entirely, but with something dark and bitter.

He was beautiful, yes, but beauty meant nothing when death sat behind your eyes. I took a step toward him, then another, even as the air around him pulsed with warning.

“Heard you became a beast because of a woman,” I said, tilting my head slightly, my voice low and mocking, just enough to slide under his skin. “A mere woman could sneak into your pack and break you.”

“You couldn’t even save your father. And yet you stand here with power pouring out of you like you're some god.” I smiled, sharp and cruel, even as my heart beat wildly in my chest.

I was going to die anyway.

“What a shame,” I whispered, moving closer.

“Maybe your father didn’t need saving,” I said softly, stepping closer into the fire of his rage.

“Maybe he welcomed death, just so he wouldn’t have to look at you anymore.”

He flinched.

That one landed.

His eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched.

But I wasn’t done.

“All you do is drain people,” I spat. “You feed on special wolves like a parasite, using sex to tame what you can’t control. You’re not a king. You’re not even a man. You’re just a bloodsucking coward.”

His body tensed all over. His hands curled into fists at his sides. A thick vein twitched on his neck, and for a moment, he looked like he might explode.

“What are you really?” I asked, my voice laced with venom. “A beast? A mistake? Maybe... maybe you should have died with your father. Maybe he would have lived if you hadn’t been born at all.”

His head jerked like I had struck him. His lips pulled back slightly, like he wanted to bare his teeth, and then I heard it.

“I’d advise you not to come any closer,” he growled, his voice low and rough, the first words I had ever heard from him. It made my blood go cold.

But I kept moving.

“Oh, what? My scent is driving you mad?” I mocked, stepping forward again. “It’s not what you want, is it? I’m not your special little wolf. I’m not the one who spread her legs to tame the monster.”

“I’m just a reminder. I’m just a body for you to break, you bloodsucking demon.” I leaned in just enough to see the war behind his eyes.

“Funny enough, you’re even my mate. A beast is my mate. The moon goddess must be playing jokes.” He held his head suddenly, his fingers pressing into his skull like it might split open.

A low, guttural sound crawled out of his chest. He looked at me like he wanted to break me and save me all at once. His hands trembled, not with weakness, but with restraint.

It was the look of a man losing a battle inside his own skin. “Leave,” he growled again, louder now.

“Not like I can,” I snapped back, throwing my arms out. “The gates are locked. I’m here because you wanted blood. So what now?” The silence that followed was worse than his growl.

For a split second, he looked at my mouth, then my eyes, and I swore the air between us shifted. Like he didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss me or kill me. And I didn’t know which would come first.

Then, just as I opened my mouth again, that sound came back. The awful, wet snap of bones breaking.

The tearing of flesh.

The beast was back.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

He lunged.

His teeth sank deep into my neck.

I cried out, the sound raw and full of pain. It burned. The kind of pain that steals your breath and crushes your chest. My hands clawed at him, but I couldn’t break free. His hold was too strong. Too final.

I wasn’t trying to survive anymore. I wasn’t begging for mercy. I just wanted to matter. If he was going to kill me, I’d leave a scar on him first, even if it was just a memory.

The pain exploded in white-hot waves. Blood poured, or was it something else? My vision blurred. Fingers twitched.

Was he draining me, or marking me?

The pain. The scent of blood. His breath against my skin.

And then I remembered.

This was how it happened in the dream.

The same heat. The same scream. The same beast.

Why would he mark me?

Does a beast recognize his mate?

He was supposed to kill me.

Then, just as suddenly as he had bitten me, he let go and struck me—one massive blow across my chest that sent my body flying.

My body slammed against the iron gate with a loud crash. The impact knocked the air from my lungs and the strength from my bones. My body collapsed to the ground like a broken doll, and I couldn’t move.

Everything hurt. Every inch of me screamed in silence. I lay there, eyes half-open, barely able to breathe.

Then I heard him.

Slow, heavy steps.

The beast walked toward me, his shape towering, his eyes wild, soaked in my blood.

He raised his massive claw again.

One strike.

Just one.

I closed my eyes.

The warmth fled. My chest stopped rising. My eyes didn’t close. They just... emptied.