~ 4

0004

✧･ﾟ: ✧ :･ﾟ✧  Marichuy ✧･ﾟ: ✧ :･ﾟ✧

Derek pulled up outside my apartment building, still fuming about the summit.

"I'll call you later," he said, not looking at me.

"Okay." I reached for the door handle.

His hand shot out and locked around my wrist.

"Marichuy. Don't forget the paperwork. This week."

"I remember." I pulled free. "I'll look at whatever you need me to sign."

That satisfied him. I climbed out and didn't look back.

…

My apartment felt different when I locked the door behind me.

In my first life, this place had been temporary — a stepping stone to the grand pack mansion. I'd barely decorated. Barely made it mine.

Now I looked at the small living room, the second-hand furniture, the bare walls, and saw something else entirely.

Mine. Bought with my inheritance. My territory. And I wasn't giving it up.

Outside the window, the sun bled orange and purple into the horizon. I felt restless. Caged.

For three years in that hospital bed, I'd dreamed of running. Wind in my fur. Earth under my paws.

Now I could.

"Aria. Want to go for a run?"

‘YES! Please, Marichuy. I've been trapped for so long. We NEED this.’

I smiled. The first real one since coming back.

"Then let's run."

…

The trailhead parking lot was empty. Most wolves ran in daylight, in groups. Running alone at dusk wasn't smart.

I didn't care. I needed this.

I walked deep into the forest, far past where any human might wander, and let the shift take me.

I'd forgotten what it felt like — the beautiful, terrible sensation of my body remaking itself. Bones lengthening. Muscles shifting. Fur rippling across my skin.

In the hospital I'd tried to shift so many times. Tried to call Aria.

Nothing had ever answered.

Now everything answered.

I landed on four paws and the world exploded into sensation. Damp earth. Moss. A rabbit's trail hours old. The rustle of leaves, an owl in the distance, my own heartbeat.

Aria's silver coat gleamed in the dying light, her blue-tipped fur catching the last of the sun as we burst through the underbrush.

"We're ALIVE!" she howled. "We're really alive!"

Even in wolf form, I wept — relief, gratitude, and rage at everything that had been stolen.

I ran until my muscles burned, until my lungs ached with cold forest air, until I felt more like myself than I had in three years. Then I slowed to a trot, tongue lolling.

‘That was amazing,’ Aria sighed.

I was about to turn back when she froze, ears snapping forward.

‘Something's wrong.’

"What?"

‘Rogues.’

Ice slid down my spine.

Rogues… packless wolves. Some were harmless loners. Others were desperate, violent, and very dangerous. Looking for another’s territory to claim.

Maybe they'll pass us by, I thought.

Three wolves melted out of the brush and surrounded me.

Mangy. Scarred. Wild-eyed. The largest, a brown wolf with a vicious scar across its muzzle, dropped its head and growled, showing teeth.

‘Run or fight?’ Aria demanded.

"We can't outrun three."

‘Then we FIGHT.’

The brown wolf lunged.

I dodged — barely. I was faster than I'd been in years, but Aria had never been trained for combat. I'd always relied on pack protection. On Derek's strength.

That was a mistake.

The gray one hit me from the side while the brown kept me busy. Teeth sank into my hind leg and I yelped, pain searing up through the bone.

‘Get OFF!’ Aria snarled, twisting and snapping until it released.

The third rogue went for my throat.

I ducked. Claws raked fire across my shoulder.

I braced for the next hit…

It never came.

A massive black shape slammed into the brown wolf and threw it ten feet across the clearing.

I stumbled back and stared.

A Lycan.

Not a wolf. Not even an alpha. A Lycan in beast form — twice the size of any wolf I'd ever seen, midnight-black fur, silver eyes glowing like twin moons.

Redford.

I knew it instantly. The power pouring off him made every instinct in my body scream submit.

But he wasn't looking at me.

He was looking at the rogues. And he was furious.

The brown wolf scrambled up. Redford was already moving. He caught it by the throat and tore it open in one savage motion, blood spraying the leaves red.

The gray wolf bolted. He ran it down in three strides, massive jaws closing over its spine. The crack of bone echoed through the trees.

The third rogue dropped to its belly, whimpering, submission in every trembling line of its body.

I thought he'd spare it.

He didn't.

Sixty seconds. Three dead rogues. Redford stood over the bodies, blood dripping from his muzzle, silver eyes still burning.

I'd heard the stories — the Lycan King's brutality in the Second War, the enemies slaughtered by the dozens, the mercy he never showed.

I'd assumed they were exaggerated.

They weren't.

He turned those glowing eyes on me, and Aria went completely silent in my mind.

He shifted.

The massive form condensed and reshaped until a man stood in the clearing.

A very naked man.

I looked away fast, ears flat with embarrassment. Rustling — then his voice, rough with command:

"What are you waiting for? Shift."

My wolf obeyed before I could argue. I came up on two legs, grateful for the sports bra and shorts I'd worn underneath. My leg bled where the gray wolf had bitten and my shoulder stung.

When I looked up, in the speed of light, Redford was dressed in black — pants and a t-shirt that hid nothing of the muscle beneath. He was obviously incredibly fast and he'd stashed clothes out here. Which meant he came to this forest often.

He crossed the clearing toward me, and I braced for concern. Are you hurt? Are you okay?

Instead, he stared.

He looked at me like a starving man at a feast — like he wanted to devour me and was holding himself back with everything he had.

His silver eyes traced my face, slid down to my mouth, lingered, dragged back up.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Aria should have been going wild. This was mate behavior — the intense, possessive staring wolves reserved for destined partners.

But Aria stayed silent. Almost dormant. Like she'd fallen asleep.

"Thank you for saving me," I managed. "I didn't know rogues were…"

"What were you thinking?" His voice came out rough, furious. "Running alone in neutral territory at night. Do you have a death wish?"

"I just wanted to run. I needed…"

"You needed to be reckless? Stupid?" He stepped closer, and his scent hit me — pine and snow and something wild that flipped my stomach over. "You could have died."

"But I didn't. Because you…"

"I won't always be here to save you, Marichuy."

The way he said my name prickled across my skin.

I reached for his thoughts, concentrating hard.

Nothing. That same impossible silence.  Redford was a locked door.

"How did you even know I was here?" I asked.

His jaw tightened. "I didn't. I run here sometimes. I heard the fight."

"Well… thank you. I appreciate…"

"Go home." He cut me off, sharp. "Now. It isn't safe for you out here."

"I can take care of myself…"

"Clearly you can't." He jerked his chin at my bleeding leg. "You almost died. GO. HOME."

His tone left no room for argument, and despite the anger flaring in my chest, I found myself nodding.

"Fine." I knotted my jacket around my waist to hide the worst of the blood and turned to leave, emotions snarled into a mess I refused to untangle.

I took three steps, then I heard a sharp, ragged breath.

I looked back.

Redford stood frozen, one hand gripping a tree trunk so hard the wood was splintering under his fingers. His whole body trembled with barely leashed restraint.

"Redford?"

"Go." He wouldn't look at me. "Now. Before I do something we'll both regret."

"What are you…"

He shifted between one blink and the next — man to massive black Lycan — and ran, vanishing into the trees so fast I barely saw him move.

I stood alone in the clearing with three dead rogues and a hundred questions.

…

I drove home in silence, glancing now and then at my leg. Already knitting closed — one gift of having my wolf back — but it would scar.

A souvenir of the night the Lycan King saved my life. Looked at me like I was the only person in the world.

And then ran from me.

Back home, I cleaned my wounds and collapsed on the couch. My phone buzzed.

Derek: Dinner tomorrow night? We need to discuss the wedding arrangements.

My stomach turned.

Me: Sure. What time?

Derek: 7. I'll pick you up.

I set the phone down and closed my eyes.

Weeks until a wedding I would never attend.

And a Lycan King my wolf went silent for, who couldn't be read, couldn't be predicted — and who'd fled into the dark before he could "do something we'd both regret."

"What are you playing at, Moon Goddess?" I whispered to the empty room.