The door slammed behind us, but I barely registered the sound. Pain pulsed at the edge of my senses, silver still burning through parts of me that had not healed yet. But it wasn’t the pain that scared me.

It was him.

Ronan.

He carried me like I weighed nothing, like I was fragile. Breakable. That was the problem. I wasn’t supposed to be fragile. I wasn’t supposed to be anything to him.

He set me down on the mattress in my room, his eyes scanning me like he expected me to shatter.

"Where’s your first aid kit?" he asked, voice low and edged with something I could not read.

I hesitated.

The air between us tightened. No. I could not let him stay here. Not this close. Not while my magic was faltering, unraveling at the seams like a threadbare veil. I could feel it, my glamour slipping. The disguise that masked my true bloodline flickered like a dying candle.

He couldn’t see me like this.

I turned my head and pointed toward the small linen closet across the room.

Ronan rose silently and crossed to the door. His broad back was tense as he pulled the kit from the top shelf. But when he turned around, he didn’t move. He just stared.

Like he saw something he hadn’t before.

No. Like something he had suspected. And now, he knew.

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"You’re Lycan."

I froze. My breath caught like ice in my throat.

"No..." I tried, voice shaking. "You don’t—"

But then he was moving closer, the kit forgotten in his hands, his gaze locked on mine like he could see through my soul.

"Don’t lie to me," he murmured.

His hand reached out and brushed my skin. Just a touch.

And the world exploded.

Something in me snapped. A surge of raw, untethered energy flared beneath my skin, heat sparking through every nerve. My breath hitched. Sweat broke across my forehead. My body reacted like it knew him. Like it recognized him.

My back arched against the mattress, every muscle tight and hungry.

And Ronan.

His eyes widened. Pupils dilated. His nostrils flared as his wolf surged forward. He felt it too. He knew.

"You knew..." I whispered, gasping for air. "You knew about this. Didn’t you?"

He didn’t answer. Not right away. His chest rose and fell as his fists clenched at his sides. I felt his wolf fighting to surface, the animal in him howling to claim me. To mark me.

He took a step closer. Then another. His hand reached for me again.

But then he stopped. He clenched his jaw and backed away like he had been burned.

"I shouldn’t have come," he growled, shaking his head like he could dislodge the bond pulling at both of us.

But it was too late.

I saw it now, clear as moonlight. The way his wolf looked at me. The way my wolf responded.

Ronan wasn’t just some alpha wandering through my life like a storm.

He was my mate.

My true mate.

I sat up, trembling. "Why?" I asked, voice cracking. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

Ronan turned his back to me like he couldn’t bear to look. His shoulders were rigid, his breath shallow.

"I can’t," he said quietly.

"Can’t what?"

He whirled on me, eyes flashing. "I can’t take a mate like you."

His words cut sharper than any blade.

I flinched. "What does that mean?"

"You’re a Lycan," he said, his voice hard now. "A warlock."

The words landed heavy in the room, like stones dropped into water.

And then I saw it. Really saw it. The way his posture shifted. The way his gaze cooled.

He knew. He had known what I was all along.

And now I knew what he was too.

"You’re not just any wolf," I said softly. "You’re an alpha."

His expression darkened. That authority, that command, it wasn’t just presence. It was blood-deep.

"Don’t even think of this," he said. His voice turned to steel. "This bond. It’s not real."

"You can feel it," I whispered, rising slowly on unsteady legs.

He scoffed. "That doesn’t mean it’s right."

I reached for him, desperate and hurting in places I didn’t know could ache.

"Why, Ronan? Why would you say that? Why push me away?"

He turned then, and something in his gaze cracked.

"You’re not even a complete wolf," he said. His voice was rough with bitterness. "You’re broken. Twisted by magic. I would never take someone as weak as you as my mate."

I staggered back like he had struck me.

Weak.

That word hit deeper than anything else.

My wolf whimpered inside me, curling in on herself, wounded.

I blinked through the tears rising in my eyes, refusing to let them fall.

"You don’t mean that," I said, barely a whisper.

"I do." His voice broke slightly, but the rest of him stayed cold. "Forget about this. Forget about me."

Then he turned and walked out the door.

He didn’t glance back. Not once.

The silence he left behind was unbearable.

I sank to the floor, clutching my ribs like they could hold me together. My wolf howled softly in my mind, a sound of heartbreak and betrayal.

We had felt it. So had he. But Ronan would rather reject a bond forged by fate than accept someone like me. Someone who wasn’t whole.

—

The bar felt colder now. Or maybe I just couldn’t feel anything at all.

Two days had passed since Ronan walked away. Since he tore the bond apart with words sharp enough to scar a soul. I had been hollow ever since.

I returned to work because I had to. Because sitting alone in my apartment with my wolf grieving and my magic flickering was worse.

But I wasn’t really there. I moved through the motions like a ghost. My hands trembled as I poured drinks. My vision blurred at the edges. The bond wasn’t just broken. It was a raw, open wound that pulsed with every heartbeat.

Ellie noticed. Of course she did. After I nearly dropped a glass for the third time, she gently guided me to the back booth. Her fingers were warm against my skin.

"Sit," she murmured. "Before you fall."

So I did.

I curled into the shadows, pressing my back against the worn leather, and let the numbness settle. My wolf paced beneath my skin, restless and hurting.

I didn’t realize he was here until I felt him.

Lucian.

His presence brushed against mine like static. Familiar, but not safe. His footsteps echoed like thunder in my chest. My wolf perked up, suddenly alert.

No. Not him.

I clenched my fists against the table, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to bury the panic. But my wolf would not calm. She recognized him.

Not as a threat.

As something else.

Something dangerous.

"Seliene."

His voice was low. Rough. Like gravel dragged over my skin.

I didn’t move. My body still ached from Ronan’s rejection. But Lucian’s voice tugged at something deep inside me. Something my wolf could not ignore.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze.

And the moment our eyes met, I knew.

He felt it.

Not the bond. Not exactly.

The hunger.

My wolf responded to him. Not with devotion, not like she did with Ronan, but with primal awareness that shook me to my core.

Lucian’s wolf was on edge too. I saw it in the clench of his jaw. The way his fingers flexed at his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach for me.

"What happened to you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I almost laughed. Almost cried. The words scraped out of me, raw and broken.

"He rejected the bond."

Lucian’s eyes widened. A flicker of something dark passed through them.

And then, before I could stop it, my wolf surged.

Gold flared behind my eyes. My magic, unraveled and wild, rose to the surface, licking at my skin like fire. The air between us thickened. It crackled.

I looked up at him, heart racing.

"But I think the bond isn’t done with me."

Lucian’s breath caught. His wolf pressed closer to the surface. I saw it in the way his pupils expanded, his breathing changed.

And in that moment, I wasn’t sure if I still belonged to myself.

Or if something else had just awakened inside me.