You don't get to walk away

I didn’t sleep.

That wasn’t dramatic. It was just a fact.

Every time I closed my eyes, my body reacted like it was waiting for something that never came. My chest felt tight, my skin restless, my thoughts looping back to the same face, the same voice, the same words.

I reject you.

I rolled onto my side, staring at the wall of my apartment as early morning light filtered in through the blinds. The city was already awake. Sirens in the distance. Someone yelling on the street below. Life moving on like nothing had happened.

But something had happened.

And it had happened to me.

I dragged myself out of bed, showered, dressed, and did everything on autopilot. I told myself I was fine. I told myself I’d met a weird man, had a weird moment, and my body was overreacting.

That excuse stopped working the moment I stepped outside.

The air felt different.

Sharper.

Every sound was louder. Every movement caught my attention. When someone brushed past me on the sidewalk, my heart jumped like I’d been touched by electricity.

I hated it.

I crossed the street faster than usual, my grip tight around my phone. My instincts kept whispering that I wasn’t alone—even when logic told me I was being paranoid.

“Relax,” I muttered under my breath.

That was when I smelled it.

Earthy. Smoky. Wild.

My steps slowed.

I turned my head slightly and saw him standing near a coffee shop across the street. He looked human—late twenties, maybe early thirties, broad shoulders, casual clothes—but something about the way he watched me made my stomach knot.

He smiled when he caught my eye.

Not friendly.

Interested.

I turned away and walked faster.

Footsteps followed.

“Hey,” he called.

I ignored him.

“Belle,” he said again, closer now.

I stopped dead.

My name.

I turned around sharply. “What do you want?”

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. “You smelled… interesting.”

Every hair on my body stood up.

“That’s creepy,” I said flatly.

He chuckled and took another step closer. “Relax. I just wanted to talk.”

“Then talk from over there.”

His smile widened.

Before he could say anything else, a black car screeched to a stop between us.

The door opened.

Lucian.

The shift in the air was immediate.

He didn’t walk toward the man.

He moved—fast enough that my brain struggled to keep up. One second he was beside the car, the next he had the stranger slammed against the brick wall, forearm pressed to his throat.

The sound made me gasp.

“You smelled her,” Lucian said quietly.

The man froze.

Lucian leaned closer, his voice low and dangerous. “And you thought that was an invitation.”

“I didn’t—” the man choked.

Lucian released him abruptly, sending him stumbling backward.

“Leave,” he ordered.

The man didn’t argue. He bolted.

I stared at Lucian, my heart pounding.

“What is wrong with you?” I demanded.

Lucian turned toward me, his expression already locked back into control.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

I laughed, sharp and angry. “You keep saying that like it means something.”

“He was tracking you.”

“So what? You think you’re the only dangerous thing in this city?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

That shut me up for half a second.

People were staring now. Phones were out. Whispers spreading.

Lucian noticed.

“Get in the car,” he said quietly.

“No.”

His jaw tightened.

“No,” I repeated. “You don’t get to reject me and then act like you own my safety.”

Something dark flickered across his face.

“I rejected you because staying near me puts a target on your back.”

“And rejecting me doesn’t?”

He didn’t answer.

He opened the car door.

“Get in,” he said. “Before this gets worse.”

Against my better judgment, I did.

The car pulled away smoothly, the city blurring past the windows.

Silence filled the space between us.

“I didn’t ask you to save me,” I said finally.

“You didn’t need to.”

“You embarrassed me,” I continued. “You said something mattered, then you took it back like it meant nothing.”

Lucian gripped the steering wheel harder.

“That bond,” he said, changing the subject, “makes you visible.”

“To who?”

“To my kind.”

I swallowed. “Your kind meaning… werewolves.”

He glanced at me.

“You’re taking this well.”

“I saw you turn into a wolf last night,” I said. “Pretending this is normal feels pointless.”

That earned me a pause.

“You’re not afraid,” he said.

“I’m not stupid,” I replied. “There’s a difference.”

The car slowed and pulled to the side of the road.

Lucian turned to face me.

“You don’t understand what’s coming,” he said. “The pack won’t ignore you now.”

“So what?” I snapped. “They’ll test me? Judge me? Decide if I’m worth keeping alive?”

“Yes,” he said honestly.

I laughed, hollow. “Great.”

“Claiming you would make it worse.”

“And rejecting me didn’t?”

“No,” he admitted. “It just delayed it.”

The honesty stung.

“You don’t like being wrong,” I said.

“No.”

“You don’t like wanting things you can’t control.”

“No.”

“And you definitely don’t like that I’m not scared of you.”

His lips twitched slightly.

“You should be.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I’m not.”

The car started moving again.

We hadn’t gone far when Lucian stiffened.

“They’re close,” he muttered.

“Who?”

He didn’t answer.

A low howl echoed through the street.

My stomach dropped.

Lucian cursed. “Stay in the car.”

The locks clicked automatically.

“Lucian—”

He was already gone.

I watched through the window as shapes emerged from the alley ahead. Three of them. Their bodies twisted unnaturally, bones shifting, fur spreading as they changed.

Werewolves.

Lucian shifted mid-run, his form exploding into a massive black wolf that hit the pavement hard enough to crack it.

The fight was brutal.

Claws tore. Teeth snapped. Blood splattered the ground.

One wolf broke past Lucian and charged toward the car.

Panic surged.

Something inside me snapped.

Not fear.

Anger.

Heat flooded my chest. I raised my hands without thinking.

The wolf slammed into an invisible force and was thrown backward violently.

Everything went quiet.

Lucian froze.

The remaining wolves hesitated—then ran.

Lucian shifted back, breathing hard, blood staining his clothes.

He approached slowly, eyes locked on me.

“What did I just do?” I whispered.

He opened the car door and crouched in front of me.

“You answered the bond,” he said quietly.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he replied. “And the pack will notice.”

That scared me more than the wolves ever could.

As he helped me out of the car, I realized something important.

The danger didn’t start when I met Lucian.

It started when I survived him.