Lucien

The forest had always been his refuge. Out here, away from the whispers of the pack and the crushing weight of expectation, he could breathe. But not tonight.

Not when she was here.

Lucien stayed in the shadows, half-shifted, his senses sharpened to a predator’s edge. Every nerve, every instinct screamed at him to step forward, to claim what the bond demanded.

Eli.

Her name was a storm in his veins, a hunger gnawing at him from the inside out. He watched her sitting by the creek, her knees drawn up, her face tilted to the sky. Fragile and fierce all at once. A contradiction he couldn’t tear his eyes from.

His wolf surged, furious at his restraint. Go to her.

Lucien’s jaw locked. “No.”

She’s ours.

“She was.” The word scraped out like a growl, low and dangerous. “I ended it.”

But even as he said it, the bond pulsed in protest. Alive. Demanding. Refusing his decree.

When she whispered to herself, her voice drifting across the water, his chest tightened. He couldn’t catch every word, but he heard the defiance, the fire. The way she fought her own wolf just to resist him.

And gods help him, he admired her for it.

Then she rose to her feet, shoulders squared, eyes blazing even though she couldn’t see him in the dark. And when she muttered, I won’t be the mistake twice, the words cut deeper than any blade.

Mistake.

His hands curled into fists. His wolf snarled, furious at the insult, furious at him. Because wasn’t that what he had made her? A mistake carved into fate.

The curse was already winning.

Lucien stayed rooted to the shadows as she stormed away, every step tearing at him. His wolf clawed against his ribs, desperate to give chase. To grab her, hold her, bury his scent into her skin until the whole world knew she belonged to him.

He forced himself to stay still.

Because wanting her was one thing. Destroying her that was another. And that was all he was capable of.

The curse made sure of it.

By the time he returned to the estate, the moon was high and silver, painting the world in light that felt too clean for his hands.

The packhouse loomed, quiet, the air thick with the scent of his wolves. But the peace here was brittle, like glass stretched thin. They felt it too the fracture in their Alpha. His distraction. His weakness.

Her.

Inside, he found no rest. His chambers were vast, silent, but his body hummed with restless energy. He shed his shirt, pacing, dragging his hands through his hair until his scalp burned.

The curse. The mate bond. The weight of both colliding inside him until he could barely breathe.

He should have stayed away from Grayridge. He should have let her believe the rejection was final. But the truth was a brutal, unrelenting thing.

He couldn’t stay away.

Not when she was the only fire left in his darkness.

The fire in the hearth had long since burned low, its light reduced to faint embers that pulsed like a dying heartbeat. Shadows crawled along the stone walls, restless things that seemed to watch him as he stood before the window, knuckles white on the sill. Beyond, the forest stretched endless and black, a kingdom of silence broken only by the distant howl of one of his own. A reminder of loyalty. A reminder of duty.

And yet none of it settled him.

His chest was tight, his breaths uneven, his body pulled taut as though he were a bowstring drawn too far. The curse pressed in again, relentless, coiling hot and cruel through his veins. His wolf was pacing inside him no, not pacing, snarling, demanding, battering against the cage of his restraint.

Eli.

The name cut through him like a blade. He had tried not to think it. Tried to hold it at bay, to shove her out of the circle of his mind. But the harder he resisted, the stronger the pull became, and the curse delighted in that struggle, feasting on it.

His hand shot out, bracing against the stone wall beside the window as another wave of fire licked down his spine. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding, as his wolf slammed against his control.

Go to her.

The voice inside wasn’t human. It was raw, primal, threaded with need and fury.

She is ours. Claim her.

“No.” His voice was rough, almost unrecognizable, the sound scraping up his throat.

The wolf lunged harder, and Lucien’s vision blurred. For a heartbeat, he didn’t see the chamber. He saw her. Curly hair falling in wild spirals over flushed cheeks. Lips parted on a gasp. Eyes that burned with defiance even as they trembled with something she wouldn’t name.

He staggered back, ripping himself from the image with a snarl. His nails lengthened, claws scoring the stone as he dragged his hands through his hair. Sweat slicked his skin though the air was cold.

The wolf roared inside him, so loud it shook the marrow of his bones.

You cannot deny me. You cannot deny her. The curse binds us tighter every time you fight it.

Lucien’s knees threatened to buckle, but he forced himself upright, muscles screaming with the effort. He would not kneel. Not to fate. Not to his wolf.

“She is not mine.” The words tore free like a vow, shredded with pain. “She cannot be mine.”

But even as he said it, the bond thrummed alive inside him, that tether he had tried to sever tightening like a noose around his throat. Every breath carried her scent, imagined but suffocatingly real. Every flicker of heat under his skin belonged to her.

The curse pulsed, a dark drumbeat beneath his ribs.

Lie to yourself if you must. It changes nothing.

He slammed both fists into the wall, stone cracking under the force, dust raining down around him. His chest heaved as he bowed his head, teeth bared in a silent snarl. He could almost feel the goddess laughing. Watching him twist in her cruel design.

The wolf surged again, harder, and Lucien felt the shift clawing at him, his bones threatening to break, skin prickling as fur threatened to erupt. His body trembled on the brink.

“No,” he growled, sinking into his stance, forcing the beast back inch by agonizing inch. His muscles locked, his spine bowed, every tendon straining with the effort. “I will not—”

The wolf snapped, tearing through the barrier of his will. His eyes burned gold, his teeth lengthened into fangs. His voice broke into a guttural snarl as claws ripped into his palms where his fists clenched too tight.

He could feel it the shift rising fast, wild, inevitable. His body screamed to give in, to unleash, to tear through the castle walls and run straight to her. To claim, to bind, to surrender.

But he didn’t.

Lucien threw his head back, a roar ripping from his throat, shaking the chamber. His claws carved deep trenches into the stone floor as he dropped to one knee. His vision whited out with pain, his body half-shifted and writhing.

And then, through the haze, he forced the command.

Stand down.

It wasn’t just a thought. It was an Alpha order, thrown inward with every ounce of dominance he possessed. The command slammed into his wolf, crushing, suffocating, forcing obedience.

For a heartbeat, the wolf fought back with teeth and fury.

And then it yielded.

Lucien collapsed forward, bracing his palms against the cold stone floor. His breath came ragged, his chest heaving as sweat dripped from his brow. His claws retracted slowly, painfully. His teeth dulled back into human form. The fire beneath his skin dimmed but didn’t fade. It never faded.

He stayed like that, kneeling, shaking with the aftermath, every inch of him vibrating with the weight of what he’d just denied.

A bitter laugh broke from his lips, sharp and humorless.

This was his life now. Every day a war. Every breath a battle. And every second he resisted, the curse dug its hooks deeper.

The chamber still smelled of smoke, sweat, and blood. Dust clung to the air where stone had cracked under his fists. Lucien remained on his knees, his palms pressed to the floor, as if sheer contact with cold stone could anchor him. His heart thundered in his chest, a relentless drum, but slower now slowed only because he had forced it to.

He had beaten his wolf back. For now.

But he knew the truth: he couldn’t keep winning forever.

A sound cracked the silence the heavy thud of boots striking stone. Lucien’s head snapped up, gold still burning faint in his eyes.

The chamber doors hadn’t creaked open. They had slammed, wide and unapologetic.

“By the goddess, Lucien—” Dorian’s voice cut through the room, sharp and furious. His Beta strode forward, ignoring the claw marks that scored the floor, ignoring the ruin in Lucien’s expression. “You’re tearing yourself apart.”

Lucien forced himself to stand, though his legs shook with the effort. He would not greet his second-in-command on his knees. He dragged his shoulders back, spine straight, dominance slipping back into place like armor hastily strapped on.

“You barged into my chamber uninvited,” Lucien said, his voice rough, ragged from the roar he’d barely contained. “That alone is enough to see you broken.”

“And yet you didn’t order it.” Dorian stopped a few paces away, unflinching under the weight of Lucien’s threat. His dark eyes blazed, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “Because you know you can’t. Not tonight.”

Lucien’s lips peeled back in a silent snarl. “Careful, Dorian.”

“No,” the Beta snapped, fire crackling in his tone. “You be careful. Look at you. You’re hanging on by threads, bleeding dominance into these stones like it’ll hold your wolf back. It won’t. She’s tearing you apart.”

The words struck deep, too close to the truth. Lucien turned away, stalking toward the window, forcing his breaths to even. The forest loomed beyond, still endless, still dark but even there, he swore he could feel her. Her presence pulsed through the bond like an echo.

“She is not mine,” Lucien ground out, his hands curling into fists.

Dorian’s scoff was harsh. “Say that as many times as you like, Alpha. It won’t change the bond. It won’t change the fact that you’ve rejected her and still can’t let her go.”

Lucien’s wolf snarled inside him, surging at the words. His claws threatened again, sliding free before he forced them back. He turned sharply, his gaze like molten steel. “You think I don’t know what this is costing me?” His voice was low, lethal. “Every second, I feel it. Every second, the curse claws deeper. And if I let it win—”

He cut off, chest heaving. The truth was too heavy, too dangerous to speak aloud.

But Dorian didn’t flinch. “If you let it win, what? You think she’ll suffer like the first one? That the curse will devour her too? You don’t know that.”

Lucien crossed the distance between them in a blink, his grip seizing Dorian by the throat and slamming him back against the wall. Stone cracked under the force.

Gold burned bright in Lucien’s eyes. His wolf snarled through him, his dominance thick and suffocating.

“Don’t. Speak. Her.” His voice was a growl, low and vicious.

Dorian’s breath strained under the grip, but he didn’t break. Didn’t cower. He met Lucien’s fury head-on, his own defiance blazing. “I will speak the truth if you won’t. You can threaten me, Alpha, but it doesn’t change what’s eating you alive.”

Lucien’s hand trembled where it pressed against his Beta’s throat. Trembled not from weakness, but from the war between tearing Dorian’s head off and admitting he was right.

The silence stretched, taut and brutal. Then, with a curse torn from his chest, Lucien released him, stepping back as though burned.

Dorian coughed once, rubbing his throat, but his stare never wavered.

“You can’t keep this up,” Dorian said, his voice steadier now. “You can’t keep punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Lucien’s teeth ground so hard his jaw ached. “It was my fault.”

“Your first mate’s death?” Dorian’s tone softened, not with pity but with a dangerous kind of understanding. “No. That was the curse. That was the goddess. You loved her, and she was taken. That doesn’t mean Eli is doomed to the same.”

The name hit like a hammer. Eli. Spoken aloud in this chamber.

Lucien closed his eyes briefly, pain lancing through him. “You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.” Dorian’s voice was low, urgent. “Because if you keep this to yourself, if you keep letting the curse twist you, it’s not just you who’ll pay. It’s the pack. It’s her. We’ll all suffer for your silence.”

Lucien’s hand braced against the wall, claws carving deep grooves as he dragged in a breath that shook him. His chest burned, his wolf restless, his memories clawing to the surface whether he wanted them or not.

Dorian pressed. “Tell me, Lucien. Tell me why you’d rather destroy yourself than take what the goddess gave you.”

Lucien’s eyes opened, gleaming gold in the dim chamber. The firelight caught the sharp planes of his face, carving the torment deep.

And slowly, like a wound reopening, the past began to bleed.