Chapter 6: He Chose Me First

Azerbel’s Point of View

I felt it before I saw him.

A gaze.

Heavy.

Sharp.

Unmoving.

It slid over my skin and made me shiver.

Slowly, I lifted my head...

and froze.

A man was staring at me.

Not just looking.

Watching.

Like he was studying me.

Like he already knew something about me that I didn't.

My breath caught.

His eyes were dark.

Deep.

Cold.

They didn't blink.

Didn't soften.

I swallowed.

My throat suddenly felt dry.

He wasn't like the others.

Not like the werewolves.

No.

This man...

was a lycan.

I knew it the moment I felt his presence.

Everything about him was different.

Stronger.

Heavier.

Dangerous.

I had never seen him before.

And yet...

something inside me whispered that I should be afraid.

My heart started pounding.

Fast.

Too fast.

For the first time in days, my mind cleared.

Not because I was calm.

Because I was scared.

Raw.

Sharp.

Real.

Even Alpha Dave had never made me feel like this.

Not even Guerero.

But this man...

he felt like something else entirely.

Who was he?

I looked away quickly and forced myself to breathe.

In.

Out.

Calm down.

But it didn't work.

Because I could still feel it.

His gaze.

Still on me.

Still watching.

Still waiting.

It pressed down on me.

Heavy.

Suffocating.

Like I was trapped under it.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I had to leave.

Now.

I reached into my pocket, hoping I had enough coins to buy a drink and leave.

My hand stopped.

Empty.

Right.

I didn't bring anything.

Not even enough for a drink.

A quiet sound escaped me.

Half frustration.

Half embarrassment.

Of all times...

why now?

I glanced at the old man behind the stall.

He was busy serving another customer.

I hesitated.

Then...

movement.

My whole body went rigid.

The lycan stood up.

And started walking toward me.

My heart dropped.

No.

No...

I lifted my head again.

And this time...

I couldn't look away.

I didn't want to.

He was huge.

Not just tall.

Massive.

Like he could crush anything standing in his way...

including me.

Every step he took was steady.

Controlled.

Strong.

Like even the ground noticed him.

When he stopped in front of me, my breath hitched.

I felt small.

Too small.

Like I didn't belong in the same place as him.

How could someone be this big?

This powerful?

No wonder lycans were feared.

One of them alone...

could destroy many of us.

He sat across from me.

Close.

Too close.

I leaned back without thinking.

My shoulders curled inward.

Like I could make myself smaller.

Like I could disappear.

But I couldn't.

"Who are you?" I asked.

My voice trembled even though I tried to hide it.

"What do you want?"

I hated how weak I sounded.

But I couldn't stop it.

"You are Azerbel?"

His voice was deep.

Low.

Heavy.

It settled over me like pressure.

"The Azerbel everyone is talking about?"

My chest tightened.

Rumors?

"What rumors?" I asked.

Quieter this time.

Barely a whisper.

I couldn't look at his face.

My eyes dropped to his hand instead.

Large.

Still.

Dangerous.

"The rejected mate of the future Alpha."

The words hit me like a slap.

Cold.

Sharp.

My breath caught.

"What...?"

I looked up for a second.

But his eyes were too much.

Too intense.

I looked away again.

My heart pounded in my ears.

Fast.

Loud.

I couldn't think straight.

And then it hit me.

This wasn't a coincidence.

He didn't just walk over to me.

He came for me.

"I don't know anything about those rumors," I said.

My voice grew softer.

Almost disappearing.

I kept my eyes down.

Refusing to meet his gaze again.

But my thoughts wouldn't stop.

Was he...

an Alpha?

The Lycan Alpha?

"W-who are you?" I asked again.

Curiosity pushed through the fear.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

Just a little.

Enough to see his chin.

His neck.

Strong, with faint veins beneath his skin.

His body...

too solid.

Like nothing could break him.

Not even a weapon.

He didn't answer.

He just watched me.

Carefully.

Like he was studying every reaction.

Every breath.

Every flicker of fear.

Seconds passed.

And somehow...

that silence felt heavier than his voice.

Too long.

The quiet stretched between us.

And it felt more dangerous than anything he could say.

Then,

"Genaro."

Just one word.

Deep.

Heavy.

It settled in my chest like a stone.

Genaro.

The name felt familiar.

Too familiar.

My mind started racing.

The war.

The lycans.

The battle Guerero fought.

The Alpha he killed.

And the one who took his place.

Genaro.

The next Lycan Alpha.

The son of the man Guerero killed.

My heart dropped.

Cold fear rushed through me.

He wasn't just any lycan.

He was him.

What did he want?

Revenge?

Was I the easiest target...

because I was once close to Guerero?

My fingers curled into my palms.

My whole body went stiff.

"W-what do you want from me?" I asked.

My voice trembled.

I couldn't hide it.

Was he going to kill me?

Right here?

Then,

the door opened.

A scent reached me.

Familiar.

Strong.

My body reacted before my mind could.

I turned.

Fast.

My heart jumped.

Guerero.

He stood there.

Closer than I expected.

It had been a week.

One long, painful week since I last saw him.

Since everything fell apart.

And now...

he was here.

Again.

"Azerbel."

My name left his lips.

Soft.

Warm.

And I hated it.

Because part of me still loved hearing him say it.

Even now.

Even after everything.

The bond between us...

it was still there.

Still pulling.

Still hurting.

"I'm glad you're here," he said.

Like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn't destroyed everything.

Like we were still the same.

My chest tightened.

Why was he smiling?

Why did he look relieved?

Did he really think things were fine?

Did he really think I would forget?

I said nothing.

Not a word.

I stood up quickly.

And I didn't even look at him.

I didn't care about the drink anymore.

Didn't care about anything.

I just needed to leave.

To get away.

From him.

From everything.

I took a step.

Then I felt it.

A shift.

Behind me.

The air changed.

Again.

I knew.

This wasn't going to be a simple escape.

Not with Guerero here.

And not with Genaro watching.

"Azerbel..."

Guerero called my name again.

Softer this time.

Almost pleading.

"Let's talk somewhere. Please."

The longing in his voice...

it hurt.

It cut deeper than before.

Like he was reaching for me...

after already letting me go.

My chest tightened.

I didn't answer.

I couldn't.

Because I knew...

if I stayed,

I might break all over again.

Then,

everything shifted.

A hand closed around mine.

Firm.

Warm.

Unmoving.

I froze.

Genaro stood.

Like it meant nothing.

Like it was natural.

Like it was his right.

He pulled me gently to his side.

Steady.

Controlled.

Effortless.

And just like that...

I was standing beside him.

Too close.

Too aware.

His presence wrapped around me.

Heavy.

Strong.

Overwhelming.

I felt small beside him.

Fragile.

Like I could disappear if he let go.

For a moment...

everything else faded.

Even Guerero.

"I will speak with her first."

Genaro's voice cut through the air.

Deep.

Calm.

But filled with quiet authority.

"You can find another day."

Simple words.

But final.

Like the decision had already been made.

The space around us shifted.

The air grew still.

Even the noise of the crowd faded.

And in that silence...

I felt it clearly.

The difference between them.

Guerero...

and Genaro.

One hesitated.

The other decided.

Just like that.

Guerero went silent.

For the first time since seeing him tonight...

something inside me changed.

Relief.

Small.

But real.

Genaro's hand stayed around mine.

Steady.

Certain.

He didn't let go.

And somehow...

the space he placed between me and Guerero...

felt like the only thing holding me together.

Like if he stepped away,

even for a second,

I would fall apart.

I hated that thought.

I didn't even know him.

And yet...

I didn't pull away.

Deep inside,

something stirred.

Something new.

Unfamiliar.

Dangerous.

Because the moment Genaro stepped between me and Guerero...

I saw it.

For the first time.

The man I once loved...

was asking.

The man I feared...

was protecting.

And the most terrifying part wasn't Genaro's hand holding mine.

It was the fact that...

I didn't want him to let go.