Chapter 11: Sienna

The phrase refuses to leave my mind.

Fenrir Subject 01 – Bite Compatibility Unknown. It repeats over and over. I can feel my heart thumping against my ribs with every breath.

 Kieran is frozen in his chair, leaning forward, his thick arms locked against his thighs. He’s holding the report so loosely it looks like he doesn’t care, but his knuckles are white. If he flexes even a little bit, the paper is going to tear. Or maybe he’s just barely holding himself together.

“Kieran,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

He looks up. For a second, his storm-gray eyes look human, but then molten gold flashes beneath the surface. It’s like fire trapped under ice. It’s gone as fast as it appeared, but I can still see it burned into my vision.

“What does ‘bite compatibility’ even mean?” I ask. I meant to sound calm, but the words cut through the room like a knife.

He doesn’t answer right away. Somewhere out in the woods, a wolf howls so close the sound vibrates through the glass walls. It feels like a warning.

 Kieran lets out a slow, sharp breath, like he’s annoyed just by existing in the same air as me.

“You shouldn't be looking at that,” he says. “It’s eight years old.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s it? That’s your whole answer?”

“It’s all you need to know.”

I let out a bitter, dry laugh and lean back against the bookshelf, crossing my arms tight. I’m trying to keep the panic from spilling out. 

“That’s incredibly helpful, Alpha Kieran. It explains absolutely f***king nothing.”

His jaw tightens. 

He glares at the paper on the table like it’s an enemy, then folds it up sharply. He keeps his eyes on the paper, anywhere but on me.

“Kieran,” I push again.

He rubs the back of his neck, his muscles shifting under his skin. “You already know too much about wolves as it is.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

I lean forward, closing the space between us. “You dragged me here because the Architects want me dead. You made me look at the bodies. You stood in front of your entire pack and blamed me for the killings. But this one line—the one thing that might actually explain why it’s me—that’s off-limits?”

He snaps his head up. His eyes are gold again. Bright, predatory, and completely unblinking.

“You think I’m just being difficult?” he asks gravelly.

“I think I’m just trying to survive.”

The silence is thick. 

 He finally leans back, his shoulders rolling as he forces the beast inside him to calm down.

“Among my kind,” he says, his voice rough, “a claiming bite… it marks a mate.”

The word just hangs there. Mate. Not a girlfriend, not a fling. Something permanent. My stomach does a weird flip—a mix of nausea and something far more dangerous.

“Wait,” I breathe, the reality hitting me like a physical blow. “You’re actually saying ‘mate’ is real? I’ve spent my entire life as a Luna Chaser tracking your kind. I’ve read every myth, every file, every exaggerated romance novel about it. I always thought that was just… lore. A metaphor for some intense obsession. It doesn’t actually exist, right?”

I’m rambling, trying to find a loophole in his logic, but he says nothing. He just watches me with those eyes that are slowly losing their human shape.

I stop. I realize then that I’m not just reading about it in a dusty archive anymore. I’m standing in the center of it.

“God…” I whisper to none. “Mate is so f**king real, then?”

“It happens in the fucking heat of the bond,” he snarls. His eyes are pure liquid gold now, devouring the fragile skin of my throat like he’s already tasting it. “Alpha drives his teeth in deep. Venom pours straight into the bloodstream.”

His gaze drops again, lingering on the frantic flutter at the base of my neck. My skin tightens, nipples peaking beneath thin fabric, traitorous warmth pooling low in my belly.

“Stop,” he growls, but the command cracks, thick with want. “Stop looking at me like you’re begging for it.”

I don’t know whether to move or stay rooted to the spot. The air in the room is so thick I can barely draw a breath, and when I finally exhale, it comes out as a ragged, shaky gasp.

That tiny sound is all it takes to snap something inside him.

He takes one slow, deliberate step forward, invading my space until his body heat slams into me like a furnace. The scent of dark cedar and raw, smoldering smoke—a scent that belongs to no human man—rolls off him in intoxicating waves, clouding my thoughts. My pulse is thundering against my ribs, frantic and loud in the silence.

One more step and he can reach me. One more heartbeat, and I know I won’t pull away; I’ll let him.

He leans down, his face hovering inches from mine, and his voice drops to a shattered, ruined whisper that vibrates right against my skin.

“Don’t make me prove how real this is, Sienna.”

His eyes are ablaze, molten gold swirling in the darkness, hungry and unblinking. Logically, I know I should bolt. I should be terrified. An ordinary woman would have run the moment that predatory look entered his eyes, but I’m not ordinary—and right now, my survival instincts are being drowned out by something far more dangerous.

I can’t back down. I won't.

I don't know if the way my blood is boiling is pure, white-hot fury at his arrogance, or if it’s the lethal pull of this bond dragging me under. I look up at him, my chin lifted, meeting that ferocious gaze with every ounce of defiance I have left.

“Maybe I want to force your hand, Alpha,” I reply, my voice breathless and sharp.

Kieran goes completely still. "Sienna..."

He leans in closer, his nose grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear. He inhales sharply as if my scent alone is enough to tear him apart from the inside out.

“Fenrir,” he rasps.

“God help me,” he whispers against my throat, his voice vibrating deep into my chest.