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Chapter Five - Lucien
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2025-07-06 10:34:15The powerful engine of the black sedan was a low growl in the otherwise silent night. Lucian drove with one hand on the wheel, the lonely stretch of asphalt a familiar boundary marker. To his left lay his own territory, cloaked in ancient shadows and undisputed law. To his right, the chaotic, mismanaged lands of the Clearwater Pack.
He let out a low sigh, his thoughts on the young, arrogant Alpha, Kael, and his new alliance with the Redding pack. A political headache was brewing, one that stank of desperation and weakness. He was contemplating the best way to contain the inevitable fallout when a pale shape darted from the trees directly into his path.
There was no time to think. Instinct took over. He slammed on the brakes, the tires screaming in protest on the pavement, but it was too late. The sickening, soft thud of body meeting metal was unmistakable. The car skidded to a halt, and the world was plunged back into a deafening silence, broken only by the ticking of the cooling engine.
Lucian killed the engine and stepped out into the night, the door of the sedan closing with a solid, heavy sound. "Don't be a person," he muttered to the darkness, his gaze fixed on the crumpled shape in his headlights. He strode forward, and then froze.
It was a woman.
He let out a sharp curse, rubbing a hand over his face. This was a nightmare. A Clearwater wolf, dead on his territory's border, was a political incident he had no time for. He was calculating his next move, his mind already on containment and damage control...
...and then the wind shifted.
It brought her scent to him, and all political thoughts evaporated. It was overwhelming. Underneath the terror and the sharp, coppery smell of blood, there was the unmistakable, intoxicating scent of a high-ranking Omega. And beneath even that, something else—the sweet, heady fragrance of an impending, powerful heat.
His entire demeanor changed. The king receded, and the Lycan surfaced. He crossed the remaining distance in two long strides and knelt beside her. Unbonded. The scent was pure, without the claim of another Alpha on it—a rarity he hadn't encountered in a century. His eyes took in her injuries—the gash on her forehead, the unnatural angle of her leg. The sight sent a low growl rumbling in his chest.
That low growl in his chest wasn't just possessiveness. It was fury. He knew the scent of Kael's pack, and he knew their backwards, barbaric ideals regarding Omegas. For years, he had tried to reason with Kael's father, and then Kael himself, to abandon their cruel traditions, to see the power and value in all designations. They had always rebuffed him.
And here was the result of their bigotry, crumpled and broken on his road. He wasn't just looking at an injured Omega; he was looking at a refugee, a victim of a system he despised.
The decision was instantaneous, justified by a cold, righteous anger. She would be better off anywhere else in the world than back with that pack. He would not allow Kael to have her back.
His movements were surprisingly gentle as he slid one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, her head lolling against his chest. He carefully placed her in the passenger seat of his car before striding back to the driver's side, his course now clear.
He slid back into the driver's seat, the scent of her already filling the enclosed space of the car—a heady mix of terror, pain, and the coming heat that called to something ancient within him.
He glanced at the woman slumped in the seat beside him. Her face, even streaked with dirt and blood, had a defiant strength to it. He already knew who she was. The so-called Luna of the Clearwater pack. Kara. Kael's folly was about to become his problem—or perhaps, his prize.
He pulled out his phone, the screen illuminating his grim features. It rang only once before it was answered by a calm, professional voice.
"Milo," Lucian said, his voice a low command. "Prepare the medical wing. I'm on my way in."
The voice on the other end was calm but laced with immediate concern. "Lucian? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"No. It's a guest," Lucian said, his eyes flicking back to the unconscious woman beside him. "Her name is Kara. And she is going to need our help."
He ended the call, tossed the phone onto the empty back seat, and pulled the car smoothly back onto the road, disappearing into the deep, protective darkness of his own territory.
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The whisper-light touch of Caius’s fingertips against mine was a ghost of a sensation, yet it anchored my spinning world. He retreated as silently as he had come, a shadow melting back into the architecture of the room, but the understanding he’d left behind was a solid, tangible thing. In the silent space where his empty eyes had met mine, a bridge had been built between two souls who had been deemed disposable. The quiet, aching loneliness that had been my constant companion for years finally, blessedly, dissolved. I was not alone in my past, and I was not alone now. The realization was a profound, healing balm.I lay back in the nest, my body languid and warm, the violent, jagged edges of my heat having been smoothed away. The pain was gone, replaced by a deep, humming peace. My fortress of soft blankets and pillows was a sanctuary, and the air itself was a prayer, thick with the scents of my protectors. I could pick them out now, my heightened senses weaving them into a t
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