CHAPTER 10: WHEN THE BOND BREATHES

Lyra realized very quickly that Nightbane Fortress was not built to make humans feel welcome.

It was built to remind everyone who held power.

The corridors were vast, ceilings too high, walls carved with ancient runes that pulsed faintly when Ares walked past. Lycans moved through the halls with controlled steps, heads lowering instinctively when their Alpha King passed.

And then there was her.

Human. Small. Barely healed.

Walking beside him.

The stares followed immediately.

Not subtle. Not curious.

Sharp. Assessing. Disbelieving.

Lyra felt them scrape against her skin like claws.

Ares felt it too.

His presence shifted… widened… became heavier as his instincts rose. His hand slid to the small of her back, not touching fully, but close enough to warn everyone around them.

Mine.

She felt the heat of him even without contact. It curled low in her belly, unfamiliar and unsettling, making her steps falter for half a heartbeat.

Ares noticed.

He always noticed.

“Slow down,” he murmured, barely audible.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly, though her breath came shallow.

“You’re lying.”

She glanced up at him. “You’re hovering.”

His lips twitched. “I’m restraining myself.”

That didn’t make her feel better.

They entered the lower hall… a place clearly meant for warriors. Long tables. Weapon racks lining the walls. The air thick with iron, sweat, and wolf.

Conversation died instantly.

Dozens of eyes turned toward her.

Lyra stiffened.

Ares stopped walking.

The silence stretched until it vibrated.

“She smells different,” someone muttered.

Another voice followed. “Is that… Moon-scent?”

A low growl rolled from Ares’s chest.

The sound alone made several Lycans straighten instinctively, shoulders squaring, heads bowing.

“She is under my protection,” Ares said calmly. “If you value your tongues, you will keep them.”

The hall exhaled as one.

Lyra swallowed.

“You didn’t warn me,” she whispered as they continued walking.

“That they would look?” he replied. “Or that they would want to touch what they shouldn’t?”

Her pulse jumped. “The second one.”

His jaw tightened. “I won’t allow it.”

She stopped suddenly.

Ares halted instantly, turning to face her.

Lyra hadn’t meant to stop. Her body simply… refused to move.

Heat flared under her skin. Her heartbeat stuttered. A strange pressure bloomed in her chest, spreading outward like something stretching… awakening.

Ares’s eyes darkened.

“Lyra,” he said lowly. “What do you feel?”

She pressed a hand to her sternum. “I don’t know. It’s like… I can feel you.”

The hall went deadly quiet.

Several Lycans froze.

Ares stepped closer, shielding her completely now. His hand cupped her elbow, steady but burning.

“The bond is reacting,” he said quietly. “Being among so many unmated males is… provoking it.”

Her breath hitched. “Provoking?”

His voice dropped. “It doesn’t like competition.”

That sent a dangerous shiver through her.

“I don’t like this,” she admitted. “Everyone’s looking at me like I don’t belong.”

Ares leaned down, his mouth near her ear.

“Good,” he murmured. “Let them see it.”

“See what?”

“That you are already claimed.”

Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.

Before she could respond, a woman stepped forward.

Tall. Beautiful. Lycan. Her silver hair was braided tightly down her back, eyes sharp with intelligence and something far colder.

“My King,” the woman said, dipping her head slightly. “You didn’t announce a guest.”

Ares’s gaze flicked to her.

“Stand down, Seraphine.”

Lyra stiffened at the name.

Seraphine smiled faintly. “I was merely curious. The fortress is buzzing.”

Her eyes slid to Lyra… slow… deliberate.

“So this is her.”

Lyra felt the bond tighten painfully.

Ares’s hand moved fully to her waist.

“Yes,” he said. “And you will address her with respect.”

Seraphine’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course. Forgive me. I only wondered how a human managed to… catch your attention.”

Lyra felt it then.

Jealousy.

Not hers.

His.

The air around Ares thickened dangerously.

“She bled for a child that wasn’t hers,” he said coldly. “What have you bled for lately, Seraphine?”

The hall went silent again.

Seraphine’s jaw tightened. “I have bled for this kingdom.”

“And yet,” Ares replied calmly, “you stand here breathing. She nearly didn’t.”

Lyra’s chest burned. The bond pulsed violently, heat rushing through her veins.

Her knees wobbled.

Ares caught her instantly, pulling her against his chest.

That contact…

It detonated something inside her.

Her breath tore from her lungs. Heat flared low, intense, unfamiliar. Her fingers curled into his shirt without permission.

Ares hissed softly, barely audible.

“Enough,” he growled, more to the room than to her.

Seraphine stepped back.

Ares lifted Lyra effortlessly into his arms.

Gasps rippled through the hall.

“Watch,” he said, voice ringing with authority. “And remember.”

He carried her out without another word.

The moment the doors sealed behind them, Ares’s control cracked.

He pressed her gently against the stone wall, hands braced on either side of her shoulders, breathing hard.

“That was reckless,” he said.

“You told me to let them see,” she whispered, body trembling.

“I didn’t mean let the bond flare,” he snapped… then softened. “Gods.”

His eyes dragged over her flushed skin, her parted lips, the way her body leaned toward his despite herself.

“You’re reacting faster,” he said. “Stronger.”

She nodded shakily. “It’s getting harder to think.”

His throat bobbed.

“That’s the danger,” he murmured. “Once the bond reaches this stage… it starts rewriting instinct.”

Her voice dropped. “Rewriting into what?”

His gaze locked onto hers.

“Need.”

The word sent a wave of heat through her.

“I don’t want to lose myself,” she whispered.

Ares’s hand slid up her arm slowly… reverently.

“I don’t want to take you before you choose,” he said hoarsely. “But the Moon is impatient.”

She lifted her hand… hesitated… then rested it against his chest.

His heart pounded violently beneath her palm.

“I feel it too,” she admitted. “When you’re close… it’s like my body already decided.”

Ares exhaled sharply, forehead dropping to hers.

“This is why I refused a mate,” he confessed. “Because once the bond breathes… it doesn’t care about fear. Or reason.”

His lips hovered a breath from hers.

The bond surged.

Lyra closed her eyes.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

She didn’t.

And that silence was louder than any command.

At the last second, Ares turned his head, pressing a restrained kiss to her temple instead.

A promise held back by force.

His arms wrapped around her, holding her steady as the bond slowly eased.

“We are walking a dangerous line,” he said quietly.

Lyra nodded, heart racing. “Then don’t let go.”

He smiled… dark… resigned.

“I don’t think I can.”

And somewhere above them, the Moon burned brighter… watching… waiting… already counting down to the moment restraint would finally fail.