Chapter five.

He smirked when she whispered her name,then slowly turned and walked into the woods.

“I need to follow him,” Raya said.

“No! No way are you doing that,I will simply send our nest soldiers to go after him.” He was about to leave but she held him on his bicep.

“Trust me,Riven,this is our only chance to catch that rouge,the antidote.”

Persuading him wasn't easy but he finally let her. Moonlight cut through the forest canopy in slanted beams, illuminating the dew-slick leaves and casting moving shadows across the underbrush. The woods were alive with the scent of pine and something darker,earth stirred by movement, the lingering burn of wolf musk, and him.

Raya stepped forward, barefoot on the forest floor, the hem of her dark cloak brushing the ferns.

She had shifted back into her human form at the edge of the woods, ignoring Riven’s stiff warning: “Be careful. Something about him is… off. Feral.”

She knew.

And she didn’t care.

The connection between her and the rogue pulled tighter with every breath she took. He was close. She could feel it in her bones,more primal than memory, more binding than fate. It was like a game, but not one she played with cubs around fire circles.

This was hide and seek with death pacing just beyond her vision,and desire licking up her spine like flame.

She closed her eyes.

There.

A whisper of movement…left!.

Then behind her.

She spun, but saw nothing. Just trees. Just wind.

But she felt him, his presence like pressure against her skin.

“You’re watching me,” she whispered to the air, her voice half-challenge, half-invitation.

Stillness.

Then,a breath against the back of her neck.

She turned, heart hammering, but the space was empty.

He was toying with her.

And her body betrayed her by thrilling at the chase.

She pressed forward, following his scent through the trees. It was wild, untamed, unlike any wolf she had ever known. Not just animalistic,it was something older, something… corrupted and divine all at once.

She glanced around while walking backwards.

Then suddenly, the game ended.

Her back hit something solid.

Hot. Alive. Immense.

A low, guttural growl rumbled behind her.

She didn’t have to turn. She knew.

The rogue.

Her breath caught as she slowly pivoted, and there he was—in full werewolf form. Towering. Feral. His fur, a deep slate gray, streaked with black. His eyes burned with golden fire, and his fangs glinted beneath snarling lips.

But he didn’t attack.

He just… watched her.

Her chest rose and fell with labored breath, but she didn’t step back. She raised her hand slowly, palm open, offering.

He tensed. A low growl vibrated the air between them.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered, eyes never leaving him.

He backed away, inching into the trees.

She stepped forward.

“Let me touch you.”

His pupils shrank. Then it widened again.

Another step. He growled louder, trembling with some barely restrained instinct.

But Raya didn’t stop.

Another step, and his back brushed against a tree. Trapped. Cornered. Still, he didn’t lash out. His chest heaved with sharp breaths, but his growl softened.

She reached again,slow, reverent.

Her fingertips brushed the fur at his chest, and his eyes dilated.

He was… calming.

That monstrous energy that had shrouded him seemed to melt away at her touch. His massive claws relaxed, and a whimper escaped his throat,a sound not of pain, but surrender.

She could feel her wolf howling within her,it was happy at this connection which baffled her. She thought he was dead after that one-night stand,but he survived it. That alone intrigued her.

They stayed like that, frozen in a moment that felt infinite.

Until—whistle.

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

Three arrows sliced through the silence like screams made solid.

“NO!”

Luna’s voice ripped through the trees as the rogue jerked violently, struck,once in the shoulder, once in the ribs, and once just beneath the collarbone.

He stumbled, blood spurting from his side.

Men emerged from the shadows,armored, cloaked, their faces marked by war paint. Royal soldiers. Her soldiers.

“Stand down!” Raya shrieked, spinning toward them.

But it was already too late.

The rogue collapsed, his massive frame hitting the forest floor with a sickening thud.

“Get him!” one of the warriors shouted.

Chains were thrown. Netting. A dozen hands latched onto him, dragging the unconscious beast across the moss and mud.

“RAYA!”

A voice roared behind her,Riven,charging from the trees, grabbing Luna by the waist and pulling her back, shielding her with his body as spears were lowered.

“Are you mad?!” he hissed into her ear. “He could’ve killed you!”

“No—no, he wasn’t going to!” she cried, shoving at Riven’s arms. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand he’s a threat!”

She twisted in his grip, her nails digging into his wrist, but he held firm. The soldiers moved past them, dragging the rogue’s limp body, his blood trailing behind like crimson breadcrumbs.

Luna fought to free herself, one hand outstretched toward the beast who had protected her,touched her without touching, marked her with a presence that defied logic.

“Let him go!” she screamed.

They didn’t listen.

“LET HIM—”

Her voice cracked.

And then, under her breath, so quiet only the wind heard it:

“…my mate.”