Chapter 4: The Bond That Burns

The healers left at dawn. They walked quickly, almost run, while whispering prayers to the Moon Goddess as they retreated.

Not because Lyra was dying.

But because the Alpha sitting beside her looked like he might kill the next person who breathed too loudly.

Ares hadn’t moved. Not for hours. Not since she’d collapsed on the forest floor right in front of his castle, with blood smeared across her skin, terror in her scent.

His Lycan bones still ached from shifting too fast, too far, too violently. But none of that mattered.

She was awake now. Barely, but awake.

Her eyes fluttered open, pupils slow to focus, lashes trembling from fever and exhaustion.

Ares felt the snap in his chest again, like something inside him recognized her before she recognized herself.

Like a tether, a pull, a command written into his blood.

It said, Mate.

His jaw clenched against the word.

No, it wasn’t the right time. She wasn’t ready.

“Lie still,” he ordered softly, though the steel beneath the words was unmistakable. “You tore half your side open trying to shield that child.”

Lyra managed a faint glare. “He was scared.” She whispered. 

“And you nearly died.” Ares’s voice sharpened, deeper than he intended. “Next time, yell. Call someone. Call me.”

Her lips twitched with something like defiance. “I didn’t know you were in the entire kingdom.”

He leaned closer, bracing one hand beside her hip. The bed dipped. And her breath caught.

“I will always be where you need me.” His voice dropped, dark, absolute. “Even if you don’t want me to be.”

Her heartbeat stuttered and he heard it.

Ares swallowed the growl rising in his throat and sat back, if only because her chest was rising too fast. Panic wasn’t what he wanted from her.

Fear of losing her had made him reckless enough. He’d crossed half the kingdom in under an hour. Every guard who saw him said later that the Alpha had been half-monster, half-shadow, all fury.

He could still taste the metallic burn of his Lycan rage on the back of his tongue.

Lyra shifted slightly, wincing. “My ribs hurt.”

The sound that came out of Ares was unintentional, raw and too close to a snarl.

“Don’t move.” He said and that's not command, not a request.

She froze, then glared at him again.

He exhaled slowly, controlling the beast inside him. “You need to rest,” Ares repeated, gentler but still burning. “Your body went into shock. You lost a lot of blood.”

She blinked at him, eyes clearing as memories returned.

“The child… is he safe?” her voice trembled. 

“Yes,” Ares said, his eyes softening for the first time since she’d been injured. “Because of you.”

Her shoulders relaxed. And something inside him broke open again.

His mind filled with posibilities, things that he never imagine could handle with a right mind. 

She could have died, because she cared, because she was brave, because she put herself between danger and a life smaller than hers.

And Ares had been to wars, where he'd seen warriors freeze in fear, soldiers abandon their comrades because they were too scared and too shock. 

But this human girl. This fragile, starving, stubborn girl, ran toward danger.

He couldn’t breathe around the feeling that crawled into his ribs and made a home there.

“You healed me?” she whispered waking him from his thoughts. 

Ares nodded once. “I stabilized you. The healers finished the rest.”

Her brow furrowed like something didn’t make sense. “But earlier… when you touched me, I felt...”

His pulse jumped and she felt it. The spark, the pull, the instinctive surge of heat that nearly ripped through his restraint.

He looked away, but too late, she already saw the truth flicker in his eyes.

“Ares… what are we?” she asked quietly.

His jaw ticked. The beast inside him showed its teeth.

No, not yet. Ares hold himself, telling the beast no to pounce on her now. Not while she was weak. Not while his control was hanging by threads thinner than moonlight.

“Nothing you need to worry about now,” he said, voice dangerously low.

She frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

“No,” he murmured. “It isn’t.”

Silence stretched between them. It's thick, charged, too heavy for the small room.

Lyra shifted again, trying to sit up. She wanted to see the entire room clearly, no.. she wanted to see him clearly. 

Ares’s hand shot out reflexively, catching her waist. His thumb unintentonallly brushed her skin, warm, bare, soft from fever.

Lyra sucked in a breath and Ares froze.

Slowly, deliberately, his thumb traced a circle on her skin.

Once.

Twice.

Her eyes fluttered. “Ares…”

He finally leaned in. Close enough that his breath warmed her cheek. Close enough that she smelled the wild forest on him. The moon, the night, the danger.

Close enough that she finally saw his gold eyes. 

“Don’t make that sound,” he whispered. “It makes me forget how injured you are.”

Her pulse leapt. His fingers tightened fractionally, pulling her closer without meaning to.

Lyra’s lips parted. “You’re… being very intense.” Her sigh trembled.

“That is the mildest possible word for what I am feeling,” Ares muttered darkly.

She swallowed. The mate bond spark right to their core. She felt it, Ares felt it. Both of them wer etrying so hard to hold on. 

And he watched her, too closely, too hungrily.

Then she whispered, “You are a king, why do you care so much? Don't you say you don't want me?”

His restraint snapped a little. Just a little.

“I don't want a mate yes..." He paused. His eyes glowing gold, darker, intense, and also a thing she couldn't get. A guilt? 

"But now your blood on my hands felt like a nightmare I’ve seen a thousand times,” he growled softly.

Lyra’s breath hitched. His eyes burned gold. His Lycan was rising and he forced it down.

Barely.

“Ares…” she whispered again, so soft, unsure, trembling.

He leaned his forehead to hers, inhaling her, grounding himself in her warmth.

“Rest,” he said, voice breaking at the edges. “I’ll stay until you sleep.”

Her lips brushed his brow by accident just a feather-light touch, made Ares locked up entirely.

Lyra froze. “I—I didn’t mean—”

His hand slid up her back, spreading gently, guiding her down to the pillows.

“You did nothing wrong,” he murmured, voice thick. “Just don’t move again. Or I might stop pretending I’m capable of restraint.”

Her cheeks flushed. She closed her eyes and tried so hard not to open them, or she could see his eyes again. Those eyes that trapped her, drown her.

So Ares stayed by her side as she finally drifted toward sleep a couple of minutes later. Her eyes fluttering softly. Her breathing slowed.

Ares watched her every breath, memorizing them. He frowned when she murmured something barely audible.

“Don’t leave…”

His heart almost broke open.

“I won’t,” he vowed. Not even death could drag him away.

And when Lyra finally fell asleep, Ares let his real expression appear.

Not the Alpha.

Not the king.

Not the warrior.

But the man whose entire soul had just chosen its match. He lowered his lips to her temple, brushing the faintest kiss there.

It's a promise, a warning, and a vow.

“You’re mine,” he whispered into her dreaming skin.

“And I will burn the world before I let anything take you from me again.”